#I'm not saying we need to make out in front of your family but fuck at least hold my hand 😮‍💨

[rafecameronsversion]

between comfort & chaos || j.m

part 2 to baby, no attachment

your feet hurriedly moved away from the scene, breathing heavily as your head continued to repeat at how "cool" he had pretended to be in front of his friends. that was not the jj you have become so familiar with, not the one you've held, certainly not the one you shared intimacy with.

not getting so far, you hear his voice behind you. it was desperate and it cracks through the noise of this bonfire. "y/n! please, wait!" jj yelled, attempting to reach you.

you didn't turn around, continued to walk away as you couldn't trust yourself to stop. you didn't trust yourself enough to look at him, to hear what reason he throws your way now.

"y/n!" his footsteps now pounded against the sand, faster of pace and is inching closer towards you. jj's calloused hands brushed against your arm, shrugging him off as you forced yourself to keep moving

"leave me alone, jj." you spoke, cold and steady, even though your chest found it hard to breathe.

"just- please, let me explain!" he pleads, cutting in front of your path as he stepped toward you. his face was flushed, his blond hair messy from the salt air, and his blue eyes were now filled with something similar to regret.

you crossed your arms, scoffing at him as you refused to meet his gaze. "explain what, jj? how i'm just a girl you talk to 'sometimes?' you said it perfectly clear there is nothing between us." you shook your head, your tone sharp. "i don't need to hear it, jj."

he winced at your words like they hurt him physically, and for a moment, he stood there as his gaze flitted from you and across the ocean as he figured out how to fix something he didn't know how to fix.

"i-i didn't mean that, y/n." he said quietly, his voice rough.

"sure sounded like you did," you scoffed, finally meeting his gaze. "you didn't even hesitate, jj. you said it like... it was the easiest thing in the world!"

his hands came up to run through his hair, a telltale sign of his frustration. "i'm a coward, okay?" he blurts out. "i...i panicked. i didn't know what to say and u screwed up. but, y/n, i didn't mean it. i never meant it."

you stood there, arms cross and unmoving.

"you think you don't mean anything to me? i care about you so much. i can't... i can't stop thinking about you. can't stop wanting you. but i'm terrified! i have nothing, y/n. you deserve more than this, more than me." he spoke, his voice cracked and he was desperate.

the raw honesty in his voice made your anger falter, you stared at him. caught between the chaos of wanting to believe him, or to protect yourself from more heartbreak

"then why would you say that?" you spoke quietly, afraid how your voice could betray you if you spoke a little louder.

"i'm scared, y/n." he admitted, his blue eyes piercing into yours. "we... we come from different families, i'm afraid that you'll realize that i have nothing, and that i screw everything up and you'll leave me for good."

your heart clenched, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

"you think i care about that, jj!" you cried out, your voice cracking. "if this—" you gestured between the two of you, "—was real, you would know i don't care about what 'you have' or 'don't have'."

"it is real!" he said, his voice breaking. "i'm sorry, but you have to understand. i can't give you anything half as good as the life you live right now."

you sigh, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose.

"you know i don't give a fuck. all i wanted was you, jj. and to hear you act like we were nothing, it hurts." you admit, a frown on your face. the tears you'd been holding back has spilled over.

his eyes look guilty as he noticed your tears, he immediately closes the distance and pulls you into a into his arms, a comforting hug as he rubbed along your back.

"please... i'll make it up to you, just don't leave."

you stayed in his arms for a moment, before pulling away. "jj..." you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. you pulled back, just enough to see his face. his eyes were red-rimmed, his lips trembling slightly. "you can't keep doing this—pushing me away, then you ask me to stay. it's confusing, and it hurts."

"i know" he said, his voice thick with guilt. "i don't want to hurt you, princess. it's just... i've never had something this real, and i'm so damn scared of losing it i didn't stop to think that i might have."

"then stop." you spoke softly, looking into his eyes and searching for the raw truth. "if you care about me as much as you say you do, then let me in. stop letting your fears win."

he nods adamantly, "i will, i swear. i won't push you away, i'm trying."

you sighed, your heart aching but hopeful. you took his hand in your own. "but if we're doing this, it's all in. no half-measures—that is what i don't deserve."

he squeezes your hand, nodding as he whispers a soft yes.

"i'm all in, i promise."

── .✦ ᝰ.ᐟ

tag req! @voidangxls

[anaalnathrakhs]

"i thought you said you'd make an effort" MOTHERFUCKER THIS IS ONLY COMPLAINT #1 OUT OF A VERY LONG LIST JUST BE GRATEFUL I CAN WAIT UNTIL THE GUESTS ARE GONE TO SNAP

[cinnabread]

If dating is gonna be like this, maybe I'm better off single. I'm so tired of being disappointed

[writingouthere]

singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader-Sukuna and Yuuji really want you to join their family! role reversal from my other series, think this will just be a one-shot though. Yuuji is Sukuna's brother but he's raised him since he was a baby and Yuuji calls him dad.

cw: Sukuna is manipulative and also a murderer but everyone's happy and you're both aware so it's okay. this is really just fluff.

"I....want you to be my mommy?"

Sukuna scowled as Yuuji looked more confused than ever.

"No, no that is not what you're saying kid. You're just going to tell her about how the other kids' mommies on the playground make you feel left out."

"But they don't, Megumi's mommy always gives me a snack when I'm hungry!"

"That's not his mommy, that's Megumi's daddy," Sukuna corrected, wondering if this was just a hopeless endeavor. He could have easily followed a plan this simple when he was four, but Yuuji was too soft. This was what happened when you raised a kid in a stable, loving environment. They lost the ability to go for the jugular when needed.

"But Megumi's daddy calls him mommy?" Sukuna didn't hold back his groan. You were going to be coming back from your morning walk any minute. He didn't have time for Yuuji to not get basic directions or to explain the dynamics of that Gojo family.

"Look when we go out there, just look sad and I'll handle the rest."

"But I'm not sad, I'm happy. We're going to the park and Megumi's mommy is bringing mochi today!"

"Shit kid, do you want a mom or not?" Sukuna asked, trying not to roll his eyes as be bent down to snap on the velcro straps on Yuuji's light up sneakers.

"I don't need a mom, I have you," Yuuji said. He looked uncharacteristically defiant and Sukuna couldn't help feeling proud of his little brother.

It had been touch and go when Yuuji was a baby. Sukuna had still been a kid himself and they didn't have any money and Yuuji's mom was even crazier than Sukuna's. Their father nowhere to be seen. Since Sukuna and Uraume had spread the pieces of his corpse around the city.

Sukuna pushed these memories aside and ruffled Yuuji's hair. "I know you don't need one, we only need each other." Yuuji nodded, his little head moving with all his conviction. "But it might be nice, right?"

Yuuji seemed thoughtful before finally biting his lip and looking down at his sneakers. He tapped them, making the red and black lights flash.

"She's really nice, I like her."

"I like her too," Sukuna said and he heard the sound of your sneakers slapping against the tiled hallway. "So let's go and look sad, okay?" Yuuji nodded, determined now and Sukuna grabbed his backpack before the two brothers went out into the hall.

You were just taking your keys out of your bag and you turned to the brothers, a smile on your face. "Good morning gentlemen, it's nice to see you. Heading out?"

That was when you noticed Yuuji's downturned expression. Sukuna saw your face shift into one of concern and he resisted a smirk.

Sukuna cleared his throat and squeezed Yuuji's hand. Good boy. "We're heading out to the park, you know the one by the high school."

"Oooh, that's nice. You like that park, right Yuuji? You said it was the biggest one in the whole city," you crouched down so you could look Yuuji in the eye and Yuuji seemed to forget he was supposed to be sad for a minute because he jumped up and down, the lights of his shoes flashing in the dim hallway.

"Yeah, it has the best swings too!" You ooohed and aawed appropriately while Sukuna tried not to smack his head against the wall. Maybe he and this kid weren't related after all, fuck.

Yuuji seemed to notice his expression because he stopped jumping to look down at feet. He put out his lower lip and used the tip of one of shoes to mess with a scuff mark on the linoleum. It would have made a more pathetic visage if his shoes weren't still lit up.

"Yuuji," you said, coming closer so you could kneel on the ground in front of the boy. The sight of you on your knees did something to Sukuna, but he pushed it aside to see what the brat had in mind. So far, he wasn't impressed with the performance. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just," Yuuji let out a sad sigh that wouldn't get him a gig in a car commercial. "Megumi and his mommy will be there and it makes me feel sad because all the other kids have mommies and I don't." God, there was no way you could be buying this, Sukuna looked at you and saw that your eyes looked a little watery.

Huh, look at that. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick the kid out, after all.

"I'm sorry Yuuji, that must be hard," you said and you reached out and swiped out where Yuuji had even managed to shed a tear. Sukuna felt so proud. "But I know that your dad is really excited to take you and the two of you are going to have so much fun!"

"Could you come too?" Yuuji asked and you bit your lip. Yuuji looked up and batted his little doe eyes at you. "It would make me really happy if you came with us. We could all have fun together."

"I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"It wouldn't be intruding," Sukuna cut in. "If you're busy though no worries, I know we'll have fun just the two of us. Right, Yuuji?"

Yuuji bit his lip and Sukuna could tell he was torn between showing how excited he was to spend time with his dad and being 'sad' so you would join them.

You looked between the two before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If you don't mind waiting while I change, I'd be happy to join you two. Should I bring anything?"

"I think we're all set. We'll wait outside for you," Sukuna said and Yuuji went up and gave you a big hug that you returned.

Sukuna took Yuuji outside to wait for you, the kid occupying himself with a mostly washed away hopscotch chalk sketch. Sukuna alternated between watching him and texting Uraume who was claiming to be over him and his nonsense. Sukuna would take it more seriously if Uraume hadn't been saying that for going on twenty years. He knew they loved him, fucking sap.

Soon, but not soon enough, you came bounding down the stairs. A scarf tied around your neck, your turtleneck exposed by the open top button of your coat. He couldn't keep letting you be single, looking all pretty like that. He was too greedy for that.

Besides, looking the way you did and knowing your big heart, it was just a matter of time before some nice loser tricked you into settling with them and he just couldn't have that. The idea of you taking someone else home to your warm apartment with it's million throw blankets and a cookie jar, an actual cookie jar, he was convinced you kept stocked up just for Yuuji, made him want to commit another murder.

"Ready?" you asked and Sukuna nodded while Yuuji took your hand in his right and Sukuna's in his left.

"Let's go!"

Yuuji's enthusiasm was contagious and the two of you chatted all the way to the park. Sukuna saw some people shoot you all looks as you walked. Sukuna was used to people viewing him with suspicion, even fear. His tattoos, dyed hair and general demeanor making people cross the street to avoid him. Something about you and Yuuji seemed to balance him out though and people reacted as if they were just looking at a cute family going out on a Saturday.

You didn't seem to notice either way and just continued talking to Yuuji about some new anime for kids Sukuna had probably had to suffer through but hadn't retained any memory of.

As soon as you all got to the park, Yuuji took off with barely a good-bye. You seemed concerned and Sukuna bumped your shoulder with his. "Don't stress, he just sees the Fushiguro kid over there. See, they're already fucking around."

He pointed to where Yuuji was chasing around a scowling dark haired boy the same age as him. Sukuna didn't buy the scowl for a second.

He had once run into the kid and his weird dads at the grocery store and the kid had scolded him when he figured out Yuuji wasn't with him. Sukuna would have knocked the kid down a peg if he wasn't actually four years old and if his 'mommy' didn't low key give him the creeps. Sukuna was pretty sure he wasn't the only person guilty of homicide currently at this playground.

"That's so cute," you cooed and Sukuna nodded along while he took you over to some picnic tables. Unfortunately one of them was already occupied.

"Aww if it isn't Sukuna. How nice it is to see your lovely face on a Saturday morning!"

"Gojo."

Sukuna was ready to leave it there but then the bastard got up and walked over. His partner continued sipping on a large cup of boba, watching from his seat although he gave you a little wave.

"Who is this, new girlfriend?" Gojo asked tilting down his sunglasses to look you up and down.

You laughed and introduced yourself while Megumi's parents did the same. Gojo grabbed your hand when you held it out and kissed the back of it, his lips curved into a smile even as he lingered, his fingers clearly holding onto where your pulse would be. Sukuna moved closer to you and put a hand around your waist, the gesture a clear sign for the other man to back off which Sukuna knew Gojo understood because the bitch fucking smiled at him.

Sukuna didn't necessarily take any of Gojo's flirtations seriously. He flirted with every mom and dad on the playground, including him when they first met. He'd even seen him flirt with the guy who worked the ice cream truck so egregiously the kid had looked on the verge of passing out. His partner never seemed bothered and Sukuna wondered if he was just that secure in the relationship or if he hoped someone would finally come along and get the annoying man away from him.

As usual though, Gojo lost interest quickly and went back to his husband who didn't say anything as Gojo lay across his lap like some kind of housecat.

"There are children here," Sukuna said. Mostly out of spite and not jealousy that the two of you weren't curled up like that.

"Don't be homophobic," Gojo said and you snorted before looking innocent when Sukuna shot you a look.

"Alright, let's go see what Yuuji's up to." Sukuna went along with your excuse, mostly just because he liked the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you wandered closer to the playground where Megumi and Yuuji were currently engaged in a game with some other kids that Sukuna couldn't have possibly guessed the subject of.

The kids alternated running around the large structure, disappearing into tunnels, jumping down to hide underneath slides and behind climbing walls. Every time Yuuji popped back up to view he would wave and call out to you both. Sukuna still felt a little warm whenever the kid called him dad and the look you gave him after made him feel caught.

"So, I can see why Yuuji was so sad those morning. Megumi's parents are just vicious monsters," you said and Sukuna was so taken aback he knew his expression didn't hide it well. You smiled and swung your hand that was still in his, turning so you could look at him.

"I don't think that's what the issue was," Sukuna managed and you nodded.

"Right, it must have been because he's so lonely," you said before the two of you were interrupted by the sound of children's ecstatic laughter. You both looked to where Yuuji was now being chased by an entire horde of children.

"I'm the curse, you have to catch me," he yelled out and the other children screamed and laughed as they tried to grab him. Yuuji had never had a hard time making friends and that was very evident in the way he got kids of all ages, even the quiet ones to join in on his game.

"You can have friends and still be lonely," Sukuna argued and you gave him just the softest look. It wasn't fair for you to see through his schemes and still look at him like that.

"Are you lonely, Sukuna?" You got closer to him, your hand still got in his and you were so warm. "Maybe I should come home with you, then?"

Sukuna couldn't have stopped himself from kissing you even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face in both of his palms. You moaned your approval into his mouth and he responded by nipping your upper lip, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned down to kiss you. Sukuna was about to risk another arrest by taking you right here in the park before a familiar voice called out to the both of you.

"Hey now, there's children here."

Sukuna turned to give the infuriating dumbfuck a piece of his mind when you distracted him by pulling him back to you and giving him a quick peck on the lips. He could leave the fight with Gojo for another day, he supposed. He knew he'd win anyway.

You're smiling and you look so happy and Sukuna doesn't feel the least amount of guilt in getting you here. Even if you knew it was a trick.

Although.

Did this mean you knew that all those times he was "stuck at work" and needed someone to watch Yuuji were a lie too? Or that he actually could cook and the one time he set the building fire alarm off had been because he started an actual fire and not just him burning dinner and two of them didn't actually need you to invite them to dinner so much? Did you also know that your radiator hadn't just stopped working randomly but he had broke it, knowing you would call him because your super never answered, and when he said a part was still missing and you would just have to stay the night at his and Yuuji's place-

Sukuna looked at you more closely and you just kept smiling.

As Yuuji called for the two of you to come help him and Megumi on the swings, Sukuna wondered if he had ever trapped you, even once. Or if you had just let him catch you.

Watching you push Yuuji as the boy screamed for you to go "higher, higher!" he decided he didn't care. Fuck, it might just be better. Knowing you were maybe as crazy as he was.

shout out to the dad at the park today who had the audacity to play with his toddler and have a cute dog at the same time.

also I liked the end of this so much I may just write a prequel of Sukuna and reader taking turns gaslighting the other into a relationship, we'll see.

Edit: wrote the prequel, here!

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[ebodebo]

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—you meet jason at one of bruce’s charity galas and you fuck

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"Honey, cross your legs."

"Honey, sit up straighter."

"Honey, we're at a gala, not a summer blowout in the Maldives."

These were just a few of the many phrases your mother chirped at you since you arrived at this stupid gala. You didn't even want to go, but your mother preached something about how, "we needed to be a united front since your father was going for reelection as a New York senator" or something like that.

It was stupid. Nobody gives a shit about familial ties; they care about your values, goals, and accolades. But there's no arguing with your mother; she's as stubborn as they come.

So, you'd sit pretty, legs crossed, with a pristine posture, biting your tongue when she says you could be sitting straighter or you could smile more. Granted, it was only a couple of hours, and if it kept your mother from turning the world around you into hell personified, you'd gladly plaster a rictus smile to appease her.

"Oh, there's Bruce!" Your mother quietly says between you and your father. "Let's go say hello," she says, gripping your hand and pulling you out of your chair, gesturing for your father to follow along.

Somewhere along the way, your parents move in front of you, sequestering you behind them. So once you all reach Bruce, he only takes notice of them, issuing a polite welcome and thanks for their attendance. Your mother swivels her head to see you tucked away behind her, bringing her hand out, gesturing for you to come in front.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," you politely say, sticking your hand out, before introducing yourself. He grasps your hand with only a slight hesitation.

"Pardon my shock. I just haven't seen you since you were two," he confesses. You smile, pulling your hand back before your mother steps next to you and places her hand on your shoulder.

"She's grown quite a lot since then, Bruce. Still a little air-heady, but I'm hopeful the more she ages, the more my personality will rub off on her," she laughs, carefully wiping a piece of loose hair away from your face. You should feel offended, but the way her joke landed so poorly, making Bruce lightly cough the awkwardness away, made you feel pity.

"You know Selina," he says, filling in the silence, gently placing his hand on her waist as she delicately sticks her hand out for your father to shake.

Who wouldn't know Selina Kyle? She was drop-dead gorgeous but as sharp as they came. She was dressed to the nines in a designer black floor-length dress. It must have been Celine or Givenchy, so it was definitely over five thousand dollars, which is just pocket change to a guy like Bruce Wayne.

"Pleasure," she coos, pulling her hand away. Her gaze shifts to your mother, slightly narrowing her eyes. It seems your mother is oblivious to Selina's adversary towards her because she eagerly sticks her hand out, ready for Selina to shake.

"Selina. So good to see you." But, instead of shaking your mother's hand, she crossed her arms over her chest

"Mhm. I wish I could say the same," Selina sharply replied before Bruce put his hand on her shoulder in warning. You gave Selina a small smile, smothering it with your hand. She covered her own with her champagne glass as she took a sip.

"She's joking," Bruce amends, signaling for a waiter going around with glasses of alcohol. "Champagne?" He asks, reaching for two glasses from the waiter before handing them to your parents.

Before any more conversation can occur, a man calls for Bruce. "Bruce," The man says, "When do you want to start?" The man questions. Bruce picks up his arm, turning his wrist to check his watch.

"He said he'd be here by now," Bruce sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His eyes were scanning around in search of something—rather someone. He does, however, spot Alfred, who he calls over and asks if he'd seen a guy named Jason.

"It was humorous of you to assume Master Todd would abide by your schedule, Master Wayne," Alfred remarks, his face stone-cold. Bruce checks the time on his watch again, then scans the crowd again.

"Just start the silent auction. I suppose Jason will come when he comes," Bruce suspires, clearly agitated. "See you at the auction," he chimes to you and your parents as he sticks his arm out for Selina to take.

"See you," your mother cheerfully says, though you know the cheeriness is just a facade because once Bruce and Selina walk away, your mother instantly drops the smile.

"Can you believe that woman? She was a criminal for God's-sake. She should be thankful that people like us even mingle with her." Your mother scoffs at your father. He hums along, paying relatively no mind to what she is saying.

While she goes on a tangent about how Selina is just using Bruce to get to his billions, you notice a dark figure heading toward the fire escape that you assume leads to the roof. You don't know why, but your brain is fluttering with the idea that you must follow it. So, you do just that.

"I have to use the bathroom," you interrupt, gently touching your mother's hand. You turn your head away from her, not bothering to turn back when she calls your name.

You walk around a corner to see the fire escape latch slightly ajar. Reaching out, you grasp the lever and push it out, quickly feeling the chilly Gotham air touch your cheeks.

Once your foot touches the stone with a 'clack' from your heels, you see the dark figure lying down, smoke clouding around him. He glances at you, taking a drag of his cigarette and huffing out a string of smoke.

"Didn't think pretty girls would come up here." This mystery guy's voice is deep, and judging by his figure, you can tell he's lanky.

"You know the latch and all."

"Are you calling me incompetent?" You cock a brow, hand on your hip with your purse in hand.

"No, I'm callin' you pretty," he says casually, taking another drag of his cigarette, not sparing you another glance. You hate to admit it, but this guy is pretty smooth, but you wouldn't tell him that.

"Who are you?" You ask, taking a few steps toward him and only turning your head to look at the night sky, which is aglow with billions of little stars. You see all the high-rise buildings, light illuminating the dark streets. It's a shame Gotham is so corrupt and unlawful.

"I should be askin' you that, seeing as you’re on my roof," he tentatively says. You can just feel the smugness in his tone, making you roll your eyes.

"You're a Wayne?" You question, arms crossed, slowly stepping closer to him.

"Somethin' like that I guess," he shrugs, which makes you let out a light laugh.

"You guess? You don't know your own family lineage?" You joke, moving to sit not completely next to him but close enough that you could feel the smoke in your nose. You could also see the outline of his face—strong jaw, pretty eyes, fluttery lashes, and nice lips.

"Why are you so curious?" He glances at you with a sly smirk on his lips. You look at him, then at the cigarette in between his fingers.

"You know smoking kills," you inform, pointing towards the cigarette. He lays his head back on the roof, his lips curving into a smirk before retaking another drag.

"You know what else kills? Poking your head around where you don't belong," he puffs out the smoke as he speaks. You turn your head away from him, trying to conceal your smile. This guy is something else, you think.

"Jason," he adds.

Your eyes widen, and your lips quirk. "Ah, you're Jason." You drag out the 'you're,' getting Jason to turn his head towards you. An inquisitive look is plastered on his face.

"So you've heard of me?" He cockily says.

"I know enough about you to know you're flakey," you raise a brow. He lets out a soft laugh.

"Mr. Wayne was looking for you, and so was everyone else," you clarify.

"Oh, please don't tell on me," he fake pleads, clearly being sarcastic. "Especially to Mr. Wayne."

You roll your eyes, though your lips threaten to smile. "I'm sensing some sarcasm."

"Well, aren't you just a modern-day Poirot.”

You widen your eyes, raising your hands. "Wait, wait. You read classic literature?" You gawk, hand coming to your chest.

"I dabble," he shrugs nonchalantly. You eye him, lip quirking.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises?" You say, holding your two fingers out, gesturing to his cigarette. "Let me take a puff," you insist.

"Ah, ah," he tuts. "What happened to 'smoking kills?'" He raises a brow, taking a puff of the cigarette himself.

"Sue me, but I'm curious," you shrug. He eyes you, wondering if you're joking. He gives you his cigarette anyway. You take a long drag, feeling the smoke cloud your lungs.

"Easy, easy," Jason warns. "Don't take too much, or you'll—" Before he can finish, you start violently coughing, feeling your eyes well up with tears. "Cough," he finishes, taking the cigarette from your hand as you go to cover your mouth.

"You like this shit?" You say through harsh coughs.

"You get used to it," he answers, not paying attention to the question. He's more concerned about you. "You okay?" His tone isn't condescending—it carries empathy.

"Ya, ya. Took too much," you shyly smile, hiccuping a little, turning your head to look directly at him. He laughs lowly. His laugh is deep and gravelly but still sounds kind. You gulp. God, were you getting turned on by a laugh?

You were facing him head-on, and even in the shitty lighting, you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down and the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes slowly drift down his face, falling on his lips. He had stuck his tongue on his lips to wet them, giving them a glistening sheen.

"Are you thinkin' about me?" His voice is dry. You sharply move your eyes to bore into his, sticking your tongue out to wet the seam of your own lips.

"And what if I am?" You challenge. Suddenly, you can feel your own heartbeat, and your hands are clammy. You can see the gears in his brain working, trying to figure you out.

"Well, are you?" He asks roughly, putting his cigarette out on the roof. You search his eyes, gently biting your lip. His eyes follow you the whole time.

"Guess," you quipped. You hadn't realized you had scooted closer to him, close enough to where he could if he wanted to touch you. This little banter you guys had was getting you wetter by the minute. It was odd. You'd never even met this guy, but you would let him kiss you, maybe even more.

His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips. "If I were to put my hand under your dress, what would I find?" He gruffly says. Your eyes drift back to his lips, and you bite your own as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

"What would I find?" He urges a little more assertively this time. You rapidly avert your eyes back to him, taking note of the blue hue in his eyes, which has seemingly grown darker.

"Maybe you should find out, Jason," you encourage. Once you give him the go, he's quick to move closer, crushing his lips to yours roughly. It was unlike anything you've ever felt before—like a ton of dynamite just erupted in you, leaving you feeling a buzz on your skin.

You reached up to grab the back of his neck, pushing him further on your lips. He groans as you sink one of your hands into his hair, gripping your waist in his hands and pulling you so you straddle his lap.

"Do you hook up with every girl you just meet?" You murmur into his lips, slipping your tongue between the seam of his moist lips.

"You hook up with every guy you just meet?" He imitates, in between breaths, gripping your waist tighter as you tug on the roots of his hair harder.

"Touché," you whisper, breathing labored as he presses deep kisses down your neck. He works his way down until he is kissing the top of your breast. Slowly, he brings his hands up to slip the strap of your dress down, exposing your breasts.

He kisses a straight line down the top of your breast to your sensitive nipple. His mouth is hot on your skin, especially in a place so sensitive. You moan as his mouth fully encompasses your nipple, lightly sucking, sending goosebumps down your skin.

You reach for his tie, grab it with your hand, hurriedly untie it, and throw it to the side before carefully undoing the few buttons on his jacket.

"It's a shame no one got to see your suit," you murmur as Jason returns his lips to yours, pressing feverish kisses into them before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

"Ya? Why's that?" He mumbles against your lips, as his hands fumble with his zipper trying to pull it down. You slid the jacket off of Jason's shoulder.

"Because you look fucking hot," you say, looking into his eyes, noticing the way his pupils dilate, hunger written all over his face. He quickly slips his slacks down, along with his boxers. Fumbling with the pocket of his jacket, he grabs a condom.

"Really?" You scowl, as he rips open the gold packaging with his teeth, slipping it on himself.

"What? Don't give me that look," he urges, pooling your dress up around your waist, sliding your panties to the side, as he guides the head of his cock inside your glistening cunt.

"Don't act like it didn't come in handy," he appeals as his cock slips inside you easily. You both groan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck, you were wet. Just slipped right in," he grits as you rock yourself against him, desperate for more friction. His hand is in your hair, pushing your face towards his to share messy, hot kisses as his other hand helps you set a pleasurable pace.

You throw your head back as he thrusts into you, eliciting a moan from you. "Fuck, Jason," you mewl as you feel his lips back on your breast, sucking and nipping with his teeth. Your hands grip tighter in his hair, hoping this will give you some kind of stability.

"Feels so good. So fuckin' good," Jason groans as he feels you clamp around him. You press your lips back to his, aching to feel the vibrations of his groans against your face. He grips the sides of your face to deepen the kiss, his teeth clashing with your own.

You continue going up and down on his cock, occasionally he thrusts himself into you to satisfy his urges and lets you grind against him to chase your own high. He takes your nipple into his mouth one last time before you moan so loud you're surprised the Gotham City Police isn't called, and Jason is spewing curses and groans as you both come.

Your bodies are both buzzing and twitching. Chests heaving so heavily you're suprised your hearts didn't just bust straight out of your chests. Jason pulls out once you aren't panting as hard, guiding you off his cock as you fix your dress. He slips the condom off, groaning at the touch, before tying it at the end. Then, he slips his jacket back on along with his slacks.

You haphazardly stand, holding onto Jason's shoulder to keep your balance. Once you gain stability, you awkwardly cough out a bye, unsure on how to make this any less weird and head back towards the fire escape. You only turn when you hear him say something. Turning on your heels, you look back at him, still in the same spot.

"I, uh, never caught your name?" He yells, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

"Didn't throw it, Jason," you shout back, making a lopsided smile grow on his face. Then, turning to go back through the fire escape, you catch a smile spread across your face as well.

Maybe being forced to attend one of Bruce Wayne's galas wasn't so bad.

a/n: jason todd = thought daughter

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[prael]

Day 6: Revenge Or Fate

IOI/Gugudan Sejeong x male reader smut

words: 5,611 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

"What's that look for?" you ask with all the whimsy you can muster. "I only said that I bought your favourite popcorn. Why are you staring at me as if I just got down on one knee and proposed?"

"You did say you'd marry me someday," Sejeong jokes. Then she does that thing she always does when she's nervous—tugging at the lobe of her ear.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah. I mean when we are both in our sixties. When you have become the crazy cat lady and I the bachelor with a penchant for wine and cigarettes. It's not even close to that time yet."

"Why would you be smoking?" Sejeong wrinkles her nose. She knows you can't stand the smell.

"Because I'll be an ageing bachelor, duh," you answer with a dismissive wave of a hand as you sit by her on the couch. She's got her legs curled up against her chest, the way she always does when it's cold outside. You'd know—she's been sitting like that on your couch every winter since the beginning of time.

She lets out the softest of laughs before it quickly dissipates into silence. She's staring across the room, but not really looking at anything. Her face is painted in melancholy. You know her well enough to know that look, and you hate it. Hate everything it represents. You sigh. The first time you saw her like this was back as teenagers, after the dog she grew up with had been hit by a car. It still hurts your chest.

"You've got that look again," you tell her. "Like there's a million and one things in your mind and none of them particularly good."

"I'm okay. Just tired." Sejeong's smile doesn't quite convince you.

"I wasn't going to say anything. I thought you'd tell me if you wanted me to know, but it's been months since you asked me to come over on a Friday night, so something has happened. I haven't seen this much annoyance behind your eyes since the end of Game Of Thrones. What is it?"

"I'm just feeling overwhelmed, that's all. I wish you weren't so observant."

"You should be used to it by now."

Sejeong flashes a half-hearted smile and takes hold of your hand as she used to do when you were kids. You feel guilty for the way your stomach flutters.

"I guess we have always known each other better than anyone else," she admits, her hand still clasped around yours. It's warm and familiar. You feel the urge to push away, but how can you? It would give far too much away. She has always had this effect on you—you could never distance yourself from her warmth. "He's an asshole."

"You don't need to tell me twice," you chuckle. Then: "Tell me what happened."

"I think he might be cheating."

The air escapes from you at once. The way Sejeong said it is so casual, almost as if she'd resigned herself to this fate a long time ago. And here you are, trying your best to keep your anger under control, like always. But not for her sake—rather, for yours. You know where your feelings belong, and they have no place in the situation at hand. Not today, and definitely not ever. You take a deep breath and look her square in the eye.

"What did he do?"

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," she laughs nervously. She doesn't want to put any more weight on your shoulders than she already has, because that's who she is, you suppose. But how can she expect you to ignore it when she looks like a sad dog staring into the rain on someone's front porch?

"We're best friends. I want to hear everything," you insist.

"He's been acting differently lately." Sejeong pauses. "Distant. Like there's something he isn't telling me."

"Do you think there might be?" you ask carefully.

"It's always something with work. Or a friend that really needs him. Or a family member or—fuck. I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

Sejeong sighs and runs a hand through her hair. There are unshed tears in her eyes. This bastard is making her cry. You want to smash something, preferably his head.

"I don't wanna bother you with this shit," she whispers. She sounds exhausted.

"Don't say that," you retort softly, squeezing her hand in yours. It's clammy. "Don't ever say that again."

She gives a curt nod.

"God knows I've told you enough about my romantic misadventures over the years," you joke. Your chest tightens when Sejeong lets out the tiniest of laughs. Maybe you can still make this right, whatever this is. "Misery loves company."

"You know," she begins, pausing to look at you properly. There is something unreadable in her gaze, something that you've never seen before. It makes you hold your breath in anticipation of whatever is to come. "If there's one person I could choose to be miserable with, it would be you."

For a brief second, you forget that time exists.

"Well, I'm very honoured," you reply eventually. There's another pause where you ponder what to say next. Then, simply, because that seems like the easiest answer: "Do you want me to go beat him up?"

Sejeong laughs and punches you in the arm.

"I thought you were a pacifist?"

"Yeah, but exceptions must be made sometimes."

She raises an eyebrow at you. You can't tell what she's thinking. "For me?"

"Yes."

It feels like standing on a cliff. You want nothing more than to jump, to feel freefall in your whole body. The only problem is that you'll most certainly die. The ground below is made of jagged rocks and bad ideas. Yet, here you stand, willing to do anything in the world for the beautiful girl next to you. Even if it means lying broken beyond repair.

Sejeong breaks your trance when she explains, "There's this girl he works with. We had dinner together with some people from their office two weeks ago, and... I don't know. They just seemed off. She kept looking at him. You know that look? The one where they linger on someone just a bit too long."

"So that's what gave it away?"

"Well, that and the rumour. They had a thing before he met me. It's over now, or it was." A single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, seemingly irritated at herself. You frown. Sejeong has no reason to be ashamed of being hurt. She should be allowed to shed tears, even buckets full if necessary. You wouldn't judge. "At least that's what he said. He promised me it was over. But... God."

You reach forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her lips tremble, so you quickly move your eyes back up. Staring at her lips is dangerous territory.

"You don't deserve this shit," you say resolutely.

Sejeong chuckles sarcastically. "Then why do I keep ending up here?"

That question stings. Not because it's directed at you—it isn't—but rather because you know the answer. Sejeong has been in this kind of position too many times to count. She attracts guys like honey does flies; every single time, with no exceptions. Only the worst seem to make it past the rest. Sejeong gets caught in their deceitful net time and time again, only to inevitably break her heart after months and months of manipulation disguised as devotion.

"Want my honest answer?"

"Yes."

"I think it's because you're the sort of person that believes the best in everyone. And that is a beautiful trait. I love that you do that. I really do. But sometimes..." you trail off, not quite sure how to continue without sounding accusatory.

"Sometimes I get screwed over," Sejeong finishes. You nod in response. "You're right. I guess it's my fault for trusting too easily."

"No," you shake your head. "It's not your fault. That part is absolutely wonderful. It's just..." You're suddenly hesitant. What if Sejeong takes this the wrong way and shuts you out?

"What?" she probes.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'you can't see the tree for the woods'?"

"Sounds stupid."

"It means you can't see what's right in front of your nose," you explain.

Sejeong stares at you for a long time. You think she understands, but it's impossible to know. It would probably be better that way—if she understood and did nothing about it. You aren't supposed to feel this way about her. How many times haven't you imagined what it would be like if things were different? If circumstances were perfect, if her current guy hadn't appeared out of anywhere and swept her off her feet before you'd even realised what was happening.

But that's just your luck.

"Thank you," Sejeong whispers. "Can we, um, watch something? I don't wanna think about this right now."

You let out an awkward cough. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Do you remember when you forced me to watch Twilight, and I spent the entirety of the movie complaining about how terrible it was?"

"You still watched all of them with me." A tiny grin appears on her face. Thank God.

"That was truly the highest form of torture," you joke. "I hope you brought something better today. Please don't tell me you downloaded another movie about sparkly vampires."

Sejeong punches your arm. "I'll have you know I am extremely cultured nowadays."

"Yeah? Show me then."

A couple of hours pass and everything feels decidedly normal. You rest against the arm of the couch and Sejeong rests against you. You make jokes at the expense of the film as you always do and she laughs that soft, carefree laugh of hers. The credits roll and Sejeong sits up, stretching her limbs like a cat after a nap. You smile at the familiarity of it all. For a moment it doesn't matter what she has—or hasn't—been crying over.

"I'm tired," she says. She blinks slowly as if to prove it to herself. It's quite endearing, actually.

"Yeah?" you ask nonchalantly.

"Will you let me stay here tonight?" Her voice is small, unsure. But why? It's not the first time she has stayed here. This place is practically a second home to her.

"Like you need to ask," you retort lightly as you stand up and look down at her.

She opens her mouth to speak, but that's when her phone rings. When she sees his name flashing across the screen, she visibly freezes. Annoyance seeps into you like acid rain. His nerve—to call at such an hour, and expect her to pick up. Sejeong just watches, almost paralyzed, until eventually, she does pick up.

"Hey," is all she says. The reply is much longer. You can't make out the words he's saying but the tone tells you all you need to know.

"I was going to," Sejeong replies tersely. Silence. Then: "I told you already, I went over to—" Pause. She swallows thickly. "You didn't tell me you were going out." A longer stretch of silence, during which his voice gradually increases in volume. Suddenly Sejeong sits bolt upright. Her eyes grow wide with confusion and disbelief.

"Me!?" She shouts. "He's my best friend! I wouldn't—" Another pause. She takes a deep breath. "No. No, that isn't fair. You can't—"

It sounds like he hangs up. Sejeong doesn't move. Her hands are shaking violently.

"Do I even wanna know?"

"I should go home," she murmurs flatly.

"To him? To the guy who's probably just fucked his co-worker?"

Sejeong turns to glare at you, eyes cold as ice. You immediately regret your words.

"I'm sorry," you quickly amend. "That was uncalled for. It's none of my business. I shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" she asks bluntly. Your heartbeat picks up in a hurry. There's anger in her eyes. Anger that could turn against you so quickly.

"Why what?" you reply defensively.

"Why don't you wanna be with anyone? You've rejected every single person who's tried to get close to you since we were sixteen. There's got to be a reason."

The world grinds to a halt. Time, space, and life itself stop existing for a minute while you consider your options. On the one hand, you could lie; come up with a suitable excuse and maybe she won't push for more. On the other hand, you could simply admit to the truth that's haunted you for years.

You open your mouth. Close it. Fuck.

Sejeong stands up, wading in the silence towards you. You can't help but take a step backwards. In that split second, you're sure she knows—and yet you cannot tell.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" Sejeong demands to know.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears. "I don't understand why you're asking me this," you choke out. A part of you wishes you were back there on the cliff. At least then you could've jumped off of your own accord, with a little dignity left intact.

"I need to know," is all Sejeong says. Her gaze is relentless. You hate it. It makes you want to claw your own skin off—and there are truths under there that you plan to take to the grave.

"Why?"

"Because I need to know if what I'm going to do next is the right thing."

She stands beside you now. On the edge of that cliff, though it's starting to feel more like you're on the roof of your car. Staring up at the stars on some forgotten summer night. The jump seems more like a flight.

"I have," you admit. Somehow it seems easier than to try and fight whatever force is controlling the both of you. It feels strangely liberating.

"But you won't allow yourself to do anything about it." You know her well enough to discern a question from a statement, no matter how carefully she might try to veil them as the latter.

"It's complicated," you say quietly. She's so close to you now that you can hear the hitch in her breath. Why is she pushing this? "Why are you doing this?"

Her eyes flit from yours to your lips, then back again. So quickly. One, two. But you saw it. And your entire body tingles in anticipation. You'll dare move away—not now, not when the leap of faith feels more like a hop.

She doesn't say anything else. One more small step and her body collides with yours. Lips press against lips and suddenly, all thought scatters. Sejeong tangles her fingers through your hair and pulls. A gasp escapes you before you regain control and kiss her properly. It's frantic, rushed. Years of pining bleed out with every touch. You grab her, pull her as close to your body as possible, and lose yourself completely. Something is swelling inside you. A feeling so large and uncontainable that you think your chest is going to explode any second.

It is indescribable.

All of it—the sensation of kissing her, holding her—surpasses description. You're falling from that cliff, but she's holding you, and before you can hit the rocks she's dragging you to the couch and climbing on top of you.

It feels unreal. The entire world disappears as your lips find hers again and again and again. You don't care to question what happens after. This moment is yours, forever branded in your memories, and nothing can take that away from you. Even if it ends here—even if she were to walk away now—it would've been worth it. Completely and irrevocably.

When you finally part to catch your breath, you can't help but stare at her in awe. She's so beautiful. A masterpiece. Your hand moves to her cheek almost automatically. Sejeong lets her head fall against it with a soft sigh.

"Wow," she whispers.

"Yeah," you croak.

"Please don't regret this in the morning." Her voice is so quiet, filled with so much pain, that it breaks your heart. Your own fears are secondary.

"I never could," you breathe. Then you lean in to kiss her again, slower this time, savouring every sensation as if it might be the last. By some miracle she responds eagerly, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt as she holds you steady. You have no idea where this leaves the two of you, but you want her closer—now. You reach around and slide your hands under her thighs, pulling gently upwards. She follows your lead, settling against your lap in a way that makes the situation undeniably real.

As you kiss, her hips start moving back and forth. Soft, shallow movements. Little whimpers escape her throat and fall directly into your mouth. Fuck. She moans—actually moans—into the kiss and a violent shiver travels through your whole body. You break away momentarily to look at her face, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes staring back at you.

"Do that again," you whisper against her lips.

"Make me," she pants.

The next kiss is searing, open-mouthed, and accompanied by Sejeong grinding her hips against you. Harder now. Unrelenting. Your hands travel up her waist, slipping beneath her blouse to feel warm skin underneath. You feel every tremble of her body when your fingernails drag lightly across her flesh. A gasp—then she leans backwards, with her arms outstretched and clinging behind your neck, to look you dead in the eye as she continues moving her hips against you.

"Sejeong... What are we—"

"Shh."

Your hands snake further up her shirt. Her back arches in response as she grinds down hard, moaning loudly. Your eyes flutter shut briefly to enjoy the sensations—the sounds—coming from her. You force them open once more because you can't miss this show for anything. You push the shirt up and over her chest. Her hands slip from behind your neck momentarily so that you can get the garment over her head. And then she is there before you, bra and sweatpants-clad, panting softly and waiting.

"Sejeong—"

"Fuck me." It is barely more than a whimper, but it rattles the very core of your being.

"What?"

She lunges forward and kisses you forcefully. There are tears in her eyes—tears you didn't notice until now. Her desperation bleeds through.

"Please," she whispers into your mouth, her voice breaking slightly. "Please."

You can't deny her. How could you? You're unfastening the clasp of her bra and your hands are everywhere on her. Pulling her closer, exploring every inch of bare skin you can get your hands on. Her fingers start unbuttoning your shirt—clumsily, but getting the job done. Once open, her nails dig into your bare shoulders, as if testing out whether you're really here, tangible and real. As if you could disappear at any moment and leave her stranded. A loud groan escapes her when your fingers brush against her nipples.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you murmur into her ear. She whines at the words, nails digging deeper into your skin.

The friction between your legs is driving you mad. You've got the burning urge to pick her up and slam her into the nearest wall, but you savour what you have. First, you kiss her neck, then it's a trail down her collarbones. Your teeth nibble playfully at the skin until she moans, begging you to do something. You obey, leaning in to flick your tongue across a nipple before swirling it around the bud. Her fingers fly into your hair and hold you against her breast.

"Holy shit."

Your mouth latches on tighter. Sucking. Biting. The heat pooling between you grows more intense. Eventually, you detach and move on to the next, eliciting more delicious sounds from the girl above you. All those nights spent fantasising about exactly this don't come close to the real experience. You're supporting her, around the waist and the small of her back, while she leans back in your lap, presenting herself to you.

You appreciate every inch of her slender figure. By eye and then by tongue. You draw constellations along her skin, your touch is feather-light. Across her toned stomach to her hips, then right up the side of her body. She throws an arm above her head and giggles lightly as you lick all the way up underneath it. You follow a path to her armpit. Sejeong giggles more when you begin to nibble there too. When you raise your eyes to meet hers she blushes fiercely.

"Weirdo."

"Just appreciating you," you murmur, pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and up to her neck.

"Mm. I like it," she replies hoarsely.

So you spend some time like this. Appreciating her bare body and making her squirm. Kissing, licking, and biting everything that you can possibly reach until her writhing becomes borderline violent. Then she grabs a hold of your jaw, looks you deep in the eyes, and utters the most sinful words you've ever heard her say.

"Enough teasing. I want to ride your cock now."

Every inch of you lights on fire. From your forehead to the tips of your toes, you feel flames lick at your insides. Sejeong climbs off you without another word and starts pushing her sweats from her hips. You watch, spellbound, as she wiggles out of them. Her panties follow suit.

Then she turns to face you. Standing fully nude, absolutely breathtaking in every sense of the word. A goddess. Every bit as perfect as you had imagined. Even your fantasies weren't this good; nowhere near as intoxicating as this moment right now.

"You have ten seconds before I sit on your face instead," she deadpans, you both laugh. At least she hasn't lost her humour.

You unbuckle your belt and shuffle them down as best you can while still seated. Enough that she can reach down and pull your cock free from its confines. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when she wraps her slim fingers around it. Pumping up and down. You're hard already, unbelievably so, and when she drags her thumb across the head of your dick it actually twitches. You suck in a deep breath, willing yourself to focus.

And then she sits on your lap, sliding along the length of your cock. Fuck. She repeats it a few times. Back and forth, slicking your cock with her wetness.

"I always pictured this," she admits.

"Really?" you croak.

"God yeah, I remember back in college. I must have rubbed one out to you more times than I can count." She smirks at you then—a wicked smirk that makes your entire body shiver. A filthy admission to you and you only. She does it again, drags her wetness along you. How on earth are you supposed to remain composed when she says things like that and does things like this? You wrap an arm around her back and pull her closer, staring at her as if seeing her for the very first time.

"You can't say things like that, I'm gonna—"

She cuts you off with her tongue in your mouth. Kissing you like it's the last thing she'll ever do, and your lips the only form of sustenance she'll ever need. It gives way to her frantic little moan, desperate and unrestrained. For the life of you you can't comprehend what is happening, only react, and fuck if it isn't the most incredible experience you've ever had. Her skin is burning against yours, hungry and yielding to your every touch.

Sejeong shifts slightly and grabs a hold of you properly. Your eyes widen when the tip of your dick brushes against something wet, warm, and soft. The very centre of her. She repositions herself, now holding you carefully against her, and then... slides down the length of your cock, pausing halfway down. The pleasure is so acute that you cannot control the way your back arches off the couch, and neither do you control the profanities that spill out from your lips.

A sinful grin spreads across her face. As her legs are pinned around your waist, you cannot move, but Sejeong certainly can. And boy, does she know how. She starts bouncing herself up and down, riding you so expertly and looking so good doing it. You've thought of this so many times—having sex with your best friend, of all people—but you did not picture it like this.

"This okay?" she murmurs in your ear. You hear the smile in her voice.

You utter the only word you can muster: "Yes."

She laughs airily, placing a kiss on your temple as she continues her rhythm. When she moans—a long, drawn-out moan, half-pained, half-pleasured—and throws her head back, you stare up at her, eyes drinking in the beauty that is in a position so incredibly vulnerable yet completely in control. How you long to capture this moment and keep it somewhere safe forever. She looks down at you now. Her heavy-lidded eyes pin you to your spot as much as the physical manifestation of her pinned against your skin. She traces her fingers down your jaw, your neck, and the top of your chest.

"I wish he could see me now," Sejeong hisses, anguish evident in her voice.

"You look so fucking good."

"He doesn't know what he had," she laughs bitterly. "Fuck him."

"Fuck him," you echo. Sejeong smirks and moves her hips more fluidly. Goddamn. Her tight little cunt feels so perfect clenched around your cock.

She watches your face closely as she keeps riding you. As you keep clutching her hips and help her along, grinding deeper. Groaning when she throws her hips forward faster and faster. Her cunt is so hot and tight. She sucks at the life seeping out of your pulsating cock and squeezes it with her inner muscles in ways that no one has ever done before. Sometimes she pulls completely off you, her breath shuddering as you twitch, only to take you deep inside her again.

Your hands have a mind of their own, sneaking upwards to grip her neck. You give it a gentle squeeze, just enough to get her attention. All the while you're staring intensely into her eyes. They've become glassy, intoxicated, more than just wanting but longing for it. Her voice is hoarse, strained, as she says, "How have I been so stupid? All this time—you're right here, and I never—"

"It doesn't matter. None of that matters."

"You're so—fuck."

Her body trembles and she falls forward onto you. She's gripping your arms, nails sinking into your flesh. Sejeong's breath grows increasingly laboured. After a long string of expletives, she lets her head rest on your shoulder as you snake an arm around her back and support her. Her whole body is rigid, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

"Never felt this good," she forces the words out amid moans as you buck your hips up into her, picking up the slack as she begins to falter. The rhythm is quick now, urgent, filled with unbridled passion and everything left unspoken for too long.

When Sejeong cums, you feel it all around you—her pussy quivering, leaking her arousal around you, dripping down your thighs and saturating you, almost drowning in the intensity. It makes her moan into the crook of your neck and rock her hips, fucking herself while trying desperately to quiet the sounds of her ecstasy against your body. But that is unthinkable, to silence someone like that, and you tell her so. Whispering the filthiest things in her ear as she throbs around your cock, dragging out the last tremors of pleasure of her orgasm as much as you possibly can. She spills everything out into your shoulder, every word, every whimper. Until at last, you can feel her sagging in your lap, breathing heavily and spent.

"Keep going," she pants, tightening her grip on your arm. "Don't stop."

She throws herself to the side, pulling you with her, and somehow lands flat on her back with your body on top of her. You wince at the sudden shift. But not for long. Because Sejeong opens her legs wide, hooks her calves around your hips, and tells you again not to stop.

You smirk and lean forward, trapping her beneath your body and capturing her lips in a sensual kiss. It is deliberate, lingering. Her arms fly up and tangle themselves through your hair, locking you together. When your tongues meet, you sigh deeply against her. There is a warmth settling over you. Languid, dream-like. Like you're both floating through clouds, carried away by the sweetest of breezes.

There is nowhere else in the world that you would rather be than right here, between her legs.

You rock into her, once, then twice, each time more intense than the last. The angle is entirely different. You grab a hold of one of her legs and hitch it up a bit, allowing yourself to thrust deeper inside her.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm. Move slower. Nice and slow," she instructs.

And you do. Eventually, a hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck. Sejeong stares into your eyes and your breath catches. Then you're kissing, again and again, but there is not so much desperation and anger anymore, but something else. It is the feel of her hips meeting yours, the way you press your bodies together, the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth. Her breaths rush from her lips to yours, from hers into you.

Sweat starts to bead at your temples as you rock into her. Slow, deep, patient strokes. It is not desperate fucking anymore, or an attempt to pour all of your heartbreak into some meaningless action. It's almost reverential—the way you're holding each other, soft and sure. A sweet torture, a sublime suffering, for as long as time allows.

You don't talk. Your mouths say nothing, at least. With your bodies, however, your fingertips whisper praise against her skin. Spirits float free and serenade each other. Sounds escape her that you haven't even dreamed of. Broken, wanton, as if wrenched out of her. They rise above and meet in a higher plane of reality, where two minds are one.

It takes time. A slow build to the crescendo. You know when you've struck the final note by the way she cries out, over and over again, her pretty little hole convulsing, spasming around your cock. She wants to squirm away but has nowhere to go. You refuse to let her. You smile against her neck and sink your teeth into the skin there.

Soon you follow, groaning her name into the warm flesh. It's a flood—your insides are melting, pouring out from your loins and into her heat, her insides contracting, trapping every ounce inside. Hot, sticky, yours. This feeling. It is as if your heart has grown wings, a phoenix born anew from the ashes of who you used to be. You don't have to be lost anymore. She will carry you, always, her fingernails tracing patterns in your damp skin. There is nothing to fear.

Sejeong whines and moans softly as you fill her. One more careful thrust and you still, collapsing on top of her as the waves subside. All the while she is there, stroking the back of your neck and quietly reciting every piece of filth that she can think of.

You wonder whether this will last longer than the night.

God. Would you be okay with that?

When you eventually move back to look at her, to make sure she's okay, there are tears in her eyes. Uncertainty overwhelms you. Before you can react, before you can ask what is wrong, Sejeong cups your cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. This girl. All these years. All the wasted time. It feels right being with her; everything is finally where it should have been all along.

"You were worth the wait," you breathe. You place a kiss against her brow before rolling off and settling next to her.

"Do you..." Her voice fades. She runs a finger along your collarbone, eyes anywhere but yours. "Do you want this to be a one-time thing?

"No," you answer without hesitation. You catch her hand in yours, entangling your fingers, willing her to understand everything that you're unable to tell her.

Sejeong smiles. Genuine, unapologetic. For the first time in months, she looks happy. Fuck him, indeed. "Good," she says with a soft laugh that evaporates any of her lingering doubts. Her eyes flick to your lips and she whispers, "So, uh, we've got some lost time to make up for."

"Yeah?" you whisper while rolling her back over and climbing over her. "If there's a debt to be paid..." You start trailing kisses down her neck, down her sternum, grinning at the tiny shivers it elicits. "What better time than now?"

Your kisses lead you over her toned stomach. Once you reach the juncture between her thighs, you pick up her leg and set it over your shoulder. Sejeong is already squirming, anticipating what is to come. You take a look at her—mussed hair and flushed cheeks, mouth slightly open, beautiful, tempting. It feels almost gratuitous—that you're able to see her like this. It makes you pull her even closer, and stick your tongue into her center. Her upper body lifts almost immediately and her eyes fly open. A shaky whimper leaves her lips.

She's right. There is a lot of catching up to do. Luckily for her, there's still the whole night ahead of you and a lot more you'd like to show her.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #4 BELIEVE IN YOURSELF

「 Listen to me. YOU are in full control of your destiny. No one else. Not your parents, not your friends, not your circumstances. YOU . The moment you take full responsibility for your life is the moment everything changes. 」

✒️..Too many people say, “I can’t do it because my family didn’t support me,” or “I wasn’t given the same opportunities as others.” Let me tell you something: success doesn’t care about your excuses. It doesn’t care about your setbacks. Success is about what you do with what you have.You can’t change where you started, but you can change where you’re going. Life isn’t about waiting for things to happen; it’s about making them happen. And that starts with one simple belief: YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKE

1 Why You Need to Believe in Yourself

Think about it—every single person who has achieved something great didn’t start out with all the answers. They didn’t wake up one day and suddenly OMG BRO I'M RICH OR OMG BRO I'M A CEO . No, they struggled. They failed. They doubted themselves. But the difference? They didn’t quit.They believed in their ability to learn, to grow, and to figure it out along the way. And so can you !!! you’re going to face challenges. THAT'S LIFE . There will be days when you feel like giving up, when the pain seems too much, and the road ahead feels impossible. But those are the moments that define you. Those are the moments where you choose—do you give in to doubt, or do you rise above it?

2 Take Full Responsibility

Stop blaming your situation. Stop waiting for someone to save you. Nobody’s coming to rescue you. This is your life, and you have to own it. Look in the mirror and ask yourself, “Am I giving my all? Am I showing up for my dreams?” If the answer is no, then it’s time to make a change.You owe it to yourself to show up every day. Not for anyone else IT'S YOUR LIFE. Not for approval but because you believe in your potential. Because you know deep down that you’re capable of more.

3 One Step at a Time

I’m not asking you to figure it all out today. Success isn’t about giant leaps it’s about consistent steps. Focus on the next 24 hours. What can you do today to get closer to your goals? Forget about next month, next year—handle today.SET DAILY GOALS - WEEKLY GOALS - MONTHLY GOALS .. When you start taking it one day at a time, everything becomes manageable. You’ll realize that the mountain you’re climbing isn’t as impossible as it seems. But you have to start. You have to put one foot in front of the other.

4 Struggle Is Part of the Process

Don’t shy away from struggle. Embrace it. Without struggle, there’s no progress THERE IS NO FUCKING PERSON THAT DON'T MAKE MISTAKES WE ARE HUMAN AFTER ALL Without setbacks, there’s no growth. Every obstacle you face is an opportunity to become stronger, to become better, to become the person you’re meant to be.And when it gets hard—and trust me, it will—remember this: the future you is counting on you. The version of you that’s thriving, that’s living the life you dream about? They’re waiting for you to make the tough choices now.

5 Stay Focused

What do you want YOU ! Not what someone else wants for you. What do you want YOU NOT THE SOCIETY NOT UR FRIENDS NOT UR TEACHERS ! Once you know the answer, block out everything else. Block out the negativity. Block out the doubts. Block out the people who say you can’t. Stay locked in. Keep your eyes on the prize. if it were easy, everyone would do it. But it’s not easy. It’s hard. It’s painful. It requires sacrifice. But it’s worth it. Every single tear, every single late night, every single failure—it’s all worth it when you finally achieve what you set out to do.

So, believe in yourself. Not just today, but every single day. Even when it feels impossible. Even when the world seems to be against you. Because the only thing standing between you and the life you want is your belief in your ability to create it.This is your time. This is your moment. The question is: will you step up and take it?Stop making excuses. Start making progress. Believe in yourself, and watch how your life transforms. I'm proud of u !

@bloomzone 📇

[marvelfilth]

Family dinner

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova, platonic!Kate Bishop x f!reader

Warnings: a very poor attempt at humour

Summary: your best friend Kate needs backup after a mishap with Yelena's family

Masterlist

“I need you here yesterday!”

“What?” You whisper-shout, looking around the office to make sure no one noticed you ducking away to take a call from your best friend.

“Please, I'm desperate! I can't do this alone, they're like sharks and I just spilled blood!”

“Kate, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Yelena's family! They're scary as shit on a good day, but now we messed up real bad, and I think they're gonna decapitate me,” she whines.

“Okay, let's backtrack. What did you do?”

“...”

“Kate?”

There's shuffling on the other side, a deep sigh and then, “Melina found the handcuffs. With the fur. They were still attached to the bed.”

You snort, loud enough to attract annoyed looks from your coworkers. “Happens to the best of-”

“And the whip. It was on the bed too.”

You chortle, this time not caring about your surroundings, and swiftly move further down the hall. “She knows Yelena's a big girl, she can ha-”

“Natasha was there too!”

You stop in your tracks. Now that's interesting.

“She'll never let you forget it,” you say with all the confidence you have, even though you've never met the woman before. You know just enough from what Kate and Yelena told you to be sure of that.

“She's not letting me forget it now! She got all sneaky and secretive, whispering with Melina and looking at me, and now I'm on my way to a family dinner. A family dinner with my girlfriend's family, while said girlfriend got called away on some emergency mission,” she huffs angrily.

“There's no emergency mission, is there?”

“There better be!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. It's never a boring day with Kate Bishop.

“So,” she starts, aiming for a nonchalant tone, “I'm downstairs.”

“What?”

“Yep. Waiting for you at the front. Better hurry, parking is expensive as hell.”

“Kate.”

“I'm your bestie. And my girlfriend's mom found the handcuffs. I need you.”

You check the time, noting that the workday is nowhere near it's end. With a sigh, you head for the elevator, not even bothering to come back for your bag.

“I love you.”

“I haven't agreed to-”

“I know what that sigh means!”

You groan. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me.”

×××

Turns out, Yelena's family is even scarier then you imagined.

“So, Y/n,” Melina starts, looking at you like you're one of her lab rats, “Do you usually leave your… sexual… stuff after you're done?”

You turn red, choking on the wine. Kate sends you a look of pity.

Natasha smirks.

“I don't… I'm not sure- Um. Well, no.”

Melina hums, nodding to herself. “Good.”

She digs into her food, and you exhale in relief, feeling like the worst part is over.

“So where do you keep your stuff, Y/n?” Natasha asks over the rim of her glass, her eyes full of mischief.

Kate slides lower in her seat, boring holes into her fork.

Melina perks up, once again regarding you like one of her subjects. “I would also like to know. To pass the advice to my daughter and her girlfriend.”

You gulp.

“Well?” Natasha prompts.

You shudder from the intensity of the look she's giving you.

“Can we move on?” Kate whispers, looking around nervously.

“Yes, of course,” Melina nods, her eyes lighting up like she was waiting for a subject change.

Natasha sends Kate an amused smile, and you relax slightly. Now the worst part is over, you're sure.

“So, Y/n-”

Fuck.

“-are you single?”

You nod, shoving a forkful of some meat salad - which mostly consists of mayonnaise - to avoid talking.

“And you're gay, correct?” Melina asks, peering into your very soul.

You nod again, chewing fast.

“Why are you gay?”

You choke on a piece of potato, wheezing and reaching for a glass of water. Kate almost falls of her chair in haste to smack you on the back. Natasha just looks at her mother, unimpressed. “Really?”

“What?” Melina shrugs. “I'm a scientist, I'm conducting research.”

The redhead groans, rubbing her eyes. “Of course.”

You feel a little better now that Natasha is annoyed.

Melina still looks at you, expecting an answer.

You sigh, “Are you gay?”

She blinks, looking like an owl. Natasha chokes on a laugh, sending you a look of appreciation. Kate mutters something about bathroom and darts out of the room, hopefully to call Yelena and fix all this mess.

“Well,” Melina starts, deep in thought. “I suppose I've never given it much of a thought.”

You nod, feeling accomplished in swaying attention from yourself.

“Natasha.” The older woman turns abruptly. “You are gay.”

The redhead groans, sliding down in her seat. “Mother, please.”

“She's gay, and you're gay. You're both miserably single.”

“Huh?” You frown, affronted.

“Fuck my life,” Natasha mumbles into the table, her face pressed tight against it in a feeble effort of disappearing.

“Yelena's on her way!” Kate walks back into the room, triumphant.

“Finally,” you sigh, pointedly looking at the ceiling to avoid Melina's penetrative gaze. “Where's she, by the way?”

“Hiding, probably,” Natasha snorts, shaking her head. “Escaped the scene of crime and left her girlfriend to pick up the mess.” She raises her glass in Kate's general direction, “You're doing good so far, Bishop. Even brought reinforcement - good thinking.”

“Yes-yes,” Melina nods, her eyes darting between you three. “Yelena's a bit of a coward in that regard, but we have an important matter to discuss.”

Natasha glares at her mother. “No, we don-”

“Natasha can cook. Well, she can microwave.”

“What did I miss?” Kate frowns, settling back into her seat. “Actually, no. I don't want to know.”

“As I was saying,” Melina clears her throat, paying no mind to the murderous look Natasha sends her. You'd feel gleeful at that - Natasha's plan came back to bite her in the ass - if you weren't the other victim in this scenario. “Natasha can cook. She's excellent with knives. She's an excellent shot. She can dismantle a bomb in a matter of seconds. She's a… a catch.”

You smile at the miserable expression on Natasha's face, her cheeks dusted with pink.

“Oh…” Kate whispers, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “Well, actually, Y/n is-” she yelps loudly when your heel connects with her toes, and turns bright red at the shooting pain. “-a bitch. She's a bitch.”

The look in Melina's eyes turns gleeful. “That was excellent.”

Fucking hell, no matter what you do, your grave turns deeper and deeper.

Natasha snorts, chugging her wine like it's water. Melina's mouth opens again, and you say a stupid thing to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“Can we go back to Kate's handcuffs, please,” you mutter with a sigh.

The look of betrayal your friend sends you doesn't work the way she intended, because you don't feel guilty at all.

Melina's mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening. The sight alone tells you you said the wrong thing.

“Have you and Kate ever-”

“No!” you both shout, before the older woman can finish the question.

“Sounds defensive,” Natasha chuckles, reaching for the bottle of vodka.

“Wha- What?” You hiss, glaring at the spy.

“She's- Y/n’s not even my type! And I'm not her type either!” Kate splutters.

“Mhm,” Natasha hums, “that I can see.”

You gape, not sure if you're supposed to be offended. “What?”

Natasha smirks, planting her chin on her fist. “You need a firm hand. Your best friend is anything, but firm.”

Her eyes trail down your body, pupils darkening ever so slightly. Your cheeks burn and, suddenly, it's hard to breathe. You clear your throat and gulp down the last of your wine, carefully avoiding her gaze.

“O-okay. That's- okay, yep,” Kate mutters to herself. “Fuck my life.”

“Am I wrong?” Natasha husks, reaching across the table to play with the golden bracelet on your wrist.

Really, right in front of her mother?

The front door opens with a loud bang, and you jump up, relieved to see Yelena. The feeling doesn't last long, because a second later you notice the bleeding wound on her torso.

“So that was an actual mission,” you mumble, missing the way Natasha snorts in your haste to get Yelena to the couch.

Kate looks pale, but swiftly starts helping Yelena undress. Melina's ready with the first aid kid by the time they finally tear off the shirt.

“So?” Natasha whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Am I wrong?”

Apparently, not even her bleeding sister can stop her.

“No,” you reply, “you're not wrong.”

She hums, satisfied. “I am miserably single, you know?"

You let out a loud laugh, not even bothering to quiet down when Yelena sends you a murderous look.

“I am miserably single, too.”

She smiles, nodding to herself.

“Want to fix that?” She asks after a bit, her eyes glinting in the soft evening light.

“They'll never shut up about it,” you groan, stepping closer to her.

“Yeah,” she hums, her grin stretching wider. “So?”

"A little help?" Yelena wheezes, glaring daggers at the two of you. "Hello? Your sister is dying."

“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes away from her green pools.

“Perfect,” she breathes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

"Fucking unbelievable," Yelena mutters and yelps when Melina shushes her with a pinch and a hissed "don't ruin my hard work".

Kate just looks like she's about to faint.

You grin. "I can't wait."

[archangeldyke-all]

Wait I was just thinking about this

What if jinx went out to run errands and took isha along with and and they come back looking VERY suspicious.

Untill you were about to interrogate them and they admit too finding a kitten on the street and taking it in. But you are not mad at them at all and you guys all collectively try to find a way to tell sevika. And when she finds out she doesn’t seem happy but she’s so freaking excited because she has a family now- something she had always dreamed for but didn’t think was achievable

-💌

i need fluff like this right now. like a million pounds of feathers.

(here's what i picture the cat looking like, btw hehe)

men and minors dni

you're in the kitchen chopping veggies for dinner, listening to the gentle jazz floating out of sevika's old office.

right now, sevika's in there rearranging furniture to turn her study into a room for jinx and isha. she's already got the bunk beds built (jinx claimed top) and now she's busy building some bookshelves and desks for the girls.

they've been living with the two of you for about a month now. and despite the fact that you and sev's sex lives have taken a massive blow, you've honestly never been happier.

the girls bring so much energy and laughter into your life. neither you or sevika ever wanted children of your own, but this feels... right. you're not their mothers and you never will be. but you are family now, and you wouldn't trade it for the fucking world.

sevika feels the same. she hasn't said it in so many words, but there's this look about her now-- she glows. she's stopped smoking because of isha's asthma. she's stopped drinking because vi's still freshly sober and comes around for dinner a few times a week. she's even started taking breaks with her prosthetic arm, letting herself walk around the house with just one arm-- a vulnerability she was never comfortable with before.

you throw your veggies on the pan, a nice sizzle sounding throughout the kitchen as you start to stir them around. the front door clicks open, and you wait for the sound of your girls thumping through the door like usual... but they don't. you turn the flame down, the sizzle lessening with it, and turn to listen closer.

jinx is whispering excitedly, and you can hear isha's excited half giggles as she listens. you grin. the girls are plotting something.

you turn the flame completely off, setting your spoon to the side and ripping off your apron, carefully tipetoeing across the kitchen to lean against the door.

"alright. sevika'll be easy to convince, all you gotta do is give her the puppy eyes... just like that, good job kiddo." jinx chuckles. isha gives a happy little chuckle, and jinx continues. "it's the missus i'm worried about. y'know what she says goes. if we don't convince her, sev'll be out too." jinx huffs.

you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at jinx's surprisingly accurate description of you and sevika's relationship.

isha makes a questioning noise, signing something you can't see to jinx. jinx hums, contemplating isha's suggestion, before speaking again. "what, y'mean like cookin' 'em both dinner or something nice? butter 'em up before we show 'em?" jinx asks. "that could work... dunno where we'd hide it until then though..."

"hide what?" you ask, pushing out of the kitchen just in time to watch isha and jinx jump and scramble to cover something up.

"heya sweetcheeks!" jinx greets, shoving a bundle of fabric into isha's hands. isha gawks at her, then turns around to hide the fabric pile from you. you chuckle, and jinx casually pushes isha behind her back. "how mucha that did you overhear?"

you giggle and tug on jinx's bangs, making her scowl a bit. "don't let sev catch you callin' me 'sweetcheeks'. she'll get jealous. show me what you two found." you say.

jinx huffs and tugs isha back out from behind her.

isha blinks up at you with her best puppy eyes, and you chuckle, flicking the rim of her miner's cap. "those only work on sevika." you say.

isha huffs and rolls her eyes in a way that she must've learnt from jinx-- then she unwraps the bundle in her hands.

"mmmew." a tiny little voice pipes up.

you gasp, and isha stops unwrapping the bundle to look up at you. "please tell me you guys didn't bring home a fucking baby." you plea. raising isha is one thing-- she knows how to use the fucking toilet already. but a newborn?! you're not sure if you and sevika could handle that...

jinx bursts into laughter and pulls the last bit of fabric away, and you sigh in relief when a scraggely, partially hairless cat blinks up at you from isha's arms. "mmmow?" it meows. you chuckle.

"where the hell'd you find this thing?"

isha grins at your positive reaction, then starts signing with both her arms full of cat. you can't make out much, but you manage to catch 'dumpster'. that explains the smell, then.

"we're callin' her chicken. 'cause her little bald belly looks like boiled chicken." jinx says, smiling just as wide as isha is.

you snort a little, and chicken reaches one of her paws out of isha's hands, like she's reaching out for you.

jinx cackles. "chicken likes you!"

you huff and shake chicken's little paw. "so what. you expect us to let you have a cat now?" you ask.

you know you're going to say yes. you just need the girls to grovel a little more-- you can't let them know you're just as soft for 'em as sevika is, otherwise there'll be no authority in your house.

"oh c'mon! we'll put the litterbox in our room so it doesn't stink up the house! i'm already comin' up with a self cleaning litter box invention-- and she can just eat our scraps! she'll be good for pest control! you know the building's been having problems with cave rats lately..." jinx trails off, pulling chicken out of isha's arms and dangling the surprisingly relaxed cat in front of you. "please sweetcheeks? i'm such a cute kitty." jinx says in a silly little voice, shaking chicken a bit as she talks.

isha sticks her lower lip out in a pout and clasps her hands under her chin in a 'please' motion.

you hold your stern glare for as long as you can before sighing and rolling your eyes. both girls burst into cheers and giggles before you can even say anything.

"fine." you huff. isha darts forward to tackle your legs in a hug, and you stumble a bit before giggling and lifting the girl up into your arms, hugging her properly. jinx and chicken join you quickly after, chicken meowing in discomfort as she's squished in the family hug. "but you two gotta talk to sev. she doesn't like animals, y'know."

"like how she doesn't like me or like how she doesn't like broccoli?" jinx asks. you giggle.

"what're you all whispering about?" sevika asks.

this time, all three of you jump and turn around to guiltily face your wife.

"mrow." chicken greets from jinx's arms. sevika's eyes widen.

"what the fuck is that?!"

isha steps forward. a cat. duh. she signs. you bite your lip to keep from laughing. jinx cackles. sevika flicks isha's cap.

"sevika, this is chicken, the newest member of our fucked up little family."

sevika blinks rapidly, and you watch in amusement as she tries to process the situation. "fuckin' ugly cat-- i don't--" suddenly, tears well up in sevika's eyes.

your stomach sinks, and you dart forward, reaching up to cup sevika's face. "what's wr--"

sevika cuts you off by collapsing against you, burying her face against your neck as she cries.

isha's big golden eyes stare up at the pair of you, shock on her face for a moment, before she just darts forward and hugs sevika's legs, nuzzling against her thigh.

jinx stands there awkwardly for a moment, chicken still in her hands. isha grunts and waves her hand for jinx to join you, and jinx sighs, rolling her eyes before moving chicken to one arm and half-heartedly wrapping her free arm around sevika's shoulders.

"fuck, fuck, sorry." sevika cries against you, sniffling and wiping her snot and tears on your shirt sleeve. you just rub her back as she collects herself. "sorry." she says again.

"'s okay." you whisper.

"...so does this mean chicken can't stay?" jinx asks. sevika lets out a shaky breath.

"why the fuck are you callin' that poor thing chicken?"

"'cause her belly looks like boiled chicken!" jinx says proudly, hauling chicken up into sevika's face. sevika just snorts.

"she's staying in your room. if i ever have to clean a single fucking cat turd, i'm puttin' it back out on the streets." sevika relents.

jinx and isha burst into squeals, both quickly darting forward to hug her, jinx even pressing a kiss to her cheek, before they dart off with chicken in tow to go check out their new bedroom set up.

you can hear the excited gasps as they enter their new place-- you haven't seen it yet but you're certain sevika went all out for her kids. you kiss her scalp, still holding her in the living room as jinx and isha start giving chicken the grand tour of their bedroom.

"you okay?" you ask.

sevika sighs and shakes her head. "these fucking kids are making me fucking soft." she groans miserably. you cackle.

"it's adorable, babe."

"it's-- it's fucking annoying! jinx called us a family and i just-- fuckin' burst into tears?! what the fuck?" she squawks. you laugh, kissing her tears up from her cheeks.

"they're happy tears, though, right?" you ask.

sevika huffs and nods. "who woulda thought i'd ever cry happy tears about being associated with jinx?" she asks.

you giggle and shrug. "i always had a feeling." you say.

sevika rolls her eyes, and then leans forward to kiss you.

[mydear-corinthian]

one more night

synopsis: the relationship was too toxic but you just cannot break up with him because..

pairing: thomas shelby x reader

warnings: SMUT +18, dubcon, p in v, oral sex (f!receiving), breeding kink, squirting, creampie toxic relationship, mentions of arguments & cheating

notes: based by maroon 5's song: "one more night", divider by cafekitsune

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

Your relationship with Thomas Shelby is indeed toxic. He often arrives home late. Even if you were only seated next to him, you flirted with women in the pub. Not even during the day was he there spending time with you. The both of you cannot end a day without an argument. "War" is the fitting word to describe your relationship.

You were starting to decide whether to end the relationship, but the question is, how?

The man gave you a big house for your family, food to eat, money, expensive clothing and jewelry, everything but affection.

The only affection you both had was sex.

Sex with Tommy was the best experience that you had. He has more experience than you, but that doesn't matter since he knows how to satisfy you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. He was home— needy, like always.

"Got a fucking long day. I need you," he whispered, locking the door immediately and grabbing your waist to kiss you.

You can never—ever— say no to having sex with this man. He was fucking brilliant.

You kissed him back, tasting the whiskey on his tongue as your tongues danced with each other. Tommy began to undress his suit, unbuttoning it one by one in a hurry, not even breaking the kiss.

He carried you and placed you on the sofa in front of your shared bed. Your hands lifted your shirt, exposing your hardened breast.

No, you've got to stop this. All he does to you is sex and nothing more. You're not his wife anymore; you're his sex toy.

"No— Tom, stop," you whined, feeling his hot breath on your neck as he marked it.

"Why? You don't want this?" Tommy asked, continuing to kiss your neck.

"Yes— no! I want to break up."

His lips are no longer on your neck. His eyes finally met yours.

"Break up?"

"All we do is sex and nothing more— I mean, we're married. We have things to do aside from sex."

"You're funny," that's all Tommy said before kissing you once again. You try to break the kiss, but your body tells you to want more. His rough palms cupped your breast and sucked it like a madman, making you moan out loud.

Tommy's fingers traced your stomach until your soaking wet cunt. You gasped at his touch as you felt his finger massage your clothed clit.

"No— stop, Tom. We can't do this any— oh God!"

"Your body tells you otherwise, sweetheart," Tommy chuckled. He removed your white underwear and tossed it on the floor. Feeling the cold breeze touch your exposed cunt, you arched your back.

"You're telling me to stop but your tight cunt keeps on clenching on my finger."

Tommy continued to pump his finger in and out of your drenched hole while eating you out. His tongue swayed figure eights on your sensitive bud, enjoying your taste. Tommy added another finger, fingering you aggressively, hitting that spongy spot again and again and again.

The wet noise made you feel embarrassed— guilty. Your eyes fully shut, grabbing a fistful of his curly hair to pull him even more closer to your cunt. Your head rolled back in pleasure,

Feeling that familiar knot on your stomach, you moaned like a whore, clenching on his mouth. "I'm so close, Tom."

"Don't stop, please— mmf!"

"Go on. Be a good girl and cum on my face, sweetheart. You're doing so well." he praised and continued to devour you.

Finally coiling up that feeling, you arched your back and moaned. You squirted, a mix of your juice and your white cum staining his mouth and face.

Out of all the men who had sex with, Thomas Shelby is the only man who made you fucking squirt.

"Fuck, baby— you always taste so good," Tommy said before standing up, ready to leave.

"Wait!"

His head turned, a smirk planted on his face.

"What is it?"

"I want.. more," you embarrassingly admitted. You bit your bottom lip, showing him your drenched hole. "Please, Tom."

"I thought you want to end this," he asked sarcastically.

"Just.. one more night," you begged.

Tommy walked towards you again, removing his boxers, freeing out his hardened cock. You bit again your lips at the sight. He really is big.

He pumped his shaft for awhile before positioning himself in front of your hole and take you whole. The feeling of his fat cock enter your tight whole made you wince. Tommy's arms embraced your shoulder as he started to move inside you. You rolled your head as soon as the pain started to become pleasuring.

"We've fucked a lot of times but you're still so tight."

Tommy's pace fastened. Your breasts swayed up and down at every harsh thrusts he makes. Your moans and groans filled the entire room. You felt his balls slap below your whole, letting out skin slapping noises which makes you even more turned on.

"Tom— oh God— yes, yes yes!" you moaned, interlocking your legs together on his lips, allowing himself to sink and pound it further.

Make it stop, you thought.

But it your body says to continue.

Tommy's tip hit the sensitive spots all over and over again, allowing you to moan even more loudly and clenched all over his fat cock.

"I thought you don't want this anymore, huh?" he teasingly asked, listening to the pornographic moans that you're letting out.

"We shouldn't be doing this anym— aah!" you tried to speak but the pleasure won't allow you to even complete your sentence.

Tommy knew you were close with the way your pussy was clenching on his dick too much. His middle finger found its way to your clit, rubbing it aggressively as he wants you to cum.

"Tom, stop— I'm gonna—shit— cum.. oh God, oh God!"

Tommy's erratic thrusts finally made you cum. His shaft still pumping inside your walls covered with your cum, allowing himself to finish.

"No matter how—Christ—rough I go, you're still tight, woman," he groaned as continued his pace while his head was resting on your shoulder. Your nails scratched his back as you felt overstimulated, cumming again.

After a few more pound, Tommy came, pouring all of him inside you, not wasting a single cum. He pulled out slowly, your shared juices slipping out of your drenched hole. There, the guilt panged you. Your mind said stop but your body said yes.

"Give me one more night, just like you said."

——

The morning the next day hits you the hardest. The first thing you saw beside you was no one. Tommy's side of the bed was cold and empty now. He left again. 

"One more night, (y/n)," you muttered to yourself.

And now the cycle continues.

[s-awturn]

Out Of The Plans || F1 Grid

cw: angst, pain, crying, lack of communication, breakup, fight, They are idiots, no exceptions..

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1

a/n: just angst and a feeling of heartbreak. Appreciate me because I wrote this in the middle of a horrible migraine

LEWIS HAMILTON:

It had been like a shock to your brain, this couldn't be happening, not at that moment. You held the pregnancy test in your shaking hands and checked the label again to make sure of the result.

A little line: negative.

Two little lines: positive.

And on your test there were two bright red lines, telling you in your face that you were pregnant. Oh God, you were pregnant and unfortunately there was no more inopportune time for a pregnancy. Okay, everything would be fine when you told Lewis, he always wanted a family, everything would be fine.

“This shouldn’t be happening, Y/N!” he paced back and forth in the huge living room of the apartment you shared. "Should not!"

Your stomach churned in fear, this wasn't exactly the conversation you were expecting to have when he got back from Singapore.

“Well, that happens when two partners have crazy sex and forget the condom!” you said as energetically as he did.

“You said your birth control was up to date!” he paused, looking at you with nothing but rebuke.

“Of course they were! But they don't work miracles, Lewis! Especially for the two of us who have sex almost every day without a condom!" you stood up and stood in front of him. "Now there is no point in pointing fingers and saying who was wrong, we have a baby on the way and we need to think about everything.”

Something strange flickered in Lewis's dark eyes and his heart sank.

“I can’t,” he hissed, pulling away from you. “I can’t deal with this right now, my life is a mess, I can’t deal with a baby right now.”

You felt your heart stop beating, what the hell was he saying? How come he couldn't deal when you were the one who would have to change everything?! Because abortion didn't even cross your mind.

“What is it like?”

Lewis licked his lips nervously, tearing his eyes away from yours, the tension in the room was raw and thick as fog, which made you even more apprehensive. He couldn't be saying what he wanted to say. Not Lewis.

“I can’t compromise the rest of the season, my performance with a baby now, especially since I’m almost at Ferrari,” he said it all quickly, in one breath. And you froze in place, blinking slowly as it sunk in that your boyfriend was saying he didn't want the baby.

You took a deep breath, you wouldn't let yourself cry in front of him, not anymore.

“Are you serious, Lewis? Are you really serious?”

He continued to look out the window, staring at the Monte Carlo marina, not having the courage to look at you.

“You, who always wanted a family, who made plans with me, are you saying you don't want the baby? That you can't handle it when I'm the one who's going to have my whole life changed to bring him into the world?!” It was his turn to walk around the room.

“But you didn’t even want a child now! You just got promoted at work! You can’t be judging me for that!”

That fell like a bucket of cold water on you, really, having a baby at that moment wasn't the best thing that could happen, but it was already there, it happened and the baby was already there.

“Alright Hamilton, the baby and I won’t hold up your championship, if you have any chance of overtaking McLaren, but either way, don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with that.” You said pointing to yourself, your hand supporting your still flat belly.

“Y/N, we can solve this another way-” he started, but you held up your hand to silence him.

“For the love of God, shut up, don’t make me hate you, Hamilton” you said and turned away, going to the bedroom. It was obvious that it was over, because there was no way you were going to abandon the baby too. Fuck Lewis and his problems.

He went after you, but was met with the suite door slammed in his face. You packed your things, only what you bought or took from your own apartment, you didn't want anything from him besides the little resident who rented your uterus on a nine-month contract .

“Everything is fine, baby, it’s going to be okay, I promise,” you said, standing in front of the mirror, imagining what your belly would look like as the months went by. “I will take care of everything”

You left the suite with a suitcase and two handbags, you had no idea where you were going at that moment, but anywhere was better than there with Lewis.

“Why are you going? We can work this out, honey—”

“Oh my God, Lewis!” you exclaimed, calling the elevator, “we can’t work anything out! You don’t want the baby, you don’t want us, so obviously this is over and I’m leaving! A great championship for you!”

When the elevator doors closed, you allowed yourself to cry, you never imagined Lewis would do that, never! You sniffed, wiping your nose on the sleeve of the only sweatshirt you stole from him. You wouldn't take anything else from him.

“We don’t need him, baby,” you whispered, as if the baby could hear. You took one last look at the apartment that had been your home for four beautiful years and with a heavy heart said, “Goodbye Lew.”

CARLOS SAINZ:

The doctor's words echoed inside your head.

Pregnant, you were twelve weeks pregnant, or three months. That was unexpected, very unexpected because you and Carlos didn't discuss starting a family, this discussion never reached you even after years of a stable relationship.

“Miss?” the doctor’s voice sounded distant to your ears, you were still focused on the blood test results.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Your mind fell into limbo and the last thing you saw was the doctor running towards you, calling your name.

The smell of antiseptic and alcohol made you wake up slowly, your head felt like it weighed a ton and your eyes were still blurry, you struggled to remember what had happened and like a bomb exploding, the word ‘pregnant’ popped into your mind.

“Calm down, calm down, you can’t exert yourself too much right now, Y/N.” You recognized the voice of Andie, your best friend from college. “Here, drink some water, the doctor said it would help you.” She handed you the glass, expecting you to drink all of the contents. “How are you feeling? You were unconscious for almost all day long, I almost died when they called me.”

“I’m fine, I guess... What did they tell you?” you handed the cup back to her.

“Nothing, the doctor said you felt unwell... What are you-” she was interrupted by Carlos’ abrupt entry into the room. He was a mess, still in his Ferrari training gear and with his hair a mess.

“¿Estás bien, vida mía?” (Are you okay, my love?).

“Yes, yes I’m fine... I just felt sick” you twisted the bed sheets between your fingers, how would you tell Carlos that you were expecting a baby, that you would be parents in six months or less? You looked at Andie, silently asking her to leave, the girl nodded and left you two alone. “It was just a scare,” she muttered, swallowing hard. “I got the test results back, remember how I was feeling really sick last week?”

“Yes, yes, I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to eat that steak tartare...”

“It wasn’t because of the steak tartare, Carlos.” You looked at him, feeling your nervousness tighten in your stomach. “I’ve been sick all week because I’m pregnant, I’m three months pregnant.” you said abruptly, watching Carlos lose color in his face and stagger away from the stretcher.

“Pregnant? B-But we were being careful!” he said, you couldn’t understand the emotions that showed on his face.

“Accidents happen, Carlos... Not that getting pregnant is an accident, especially when you have sex without a condom...” you said, waiting for him to calm down.

“This shouldn’t have happened! I don’t want children now!” he said exasperatedly. “I don’t!”

Something inside you broke when you heard him, you weren't ready to take on motherhood yet, your internet work was finally bearing fruit, your relationship with Carlos was going well, you never thought you'd include a child in that equation, but there she was. But none of that was as scary as the idea that her boyfriend didn't want the baby he helped conceive.

“You don’t want to?” you repeated his words slowly.

“No! Of course not! A baby now would get in the way of my career!”

And suddenly, it all came crashing down on his head like an anvil. Tears stung your eyes and the words came out before you could filter them.

“Go away, Carlos,” you were surprised to notice how firm your voice was. “Get out of here, get out of my sight.”

"But amor... We never talked about children, you never told me you wanted them!” The Spaniard tried to touch you, but you backed away, avoiding him as if he were burning you.

“It’s not about what I want or don’t want, Carlos,” you snapped. “I really didn’t want a baby, but I’ll have one in six months, with or without you! So decide whether you’re with me or leaving!”

“I-I can’t... I-I don’t want kids, I need to dedicate myself to the fullest and a baby will get in my way” he stammered, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Go away Carlos, I’ve heard enough” you turned your face away so you wouldn’t see him, ignoring his attempts. It was only when the door closed with a dull thud that you could let your strong facade fall and allowed yourself to cry to the point where you didn't notice when Andie came in and wrapped you in a protective hug.

“What happened? Carlos left as if he was being chased by the devil” she rubbed your back, trying to make you stop crying. Between sobs, you explained what had happened, feeling her embrace tighten. “Oh love, I’m so sorry this happened, I didn't think Carlos was a son of a bitch... What do you intend to do?”

“I-I don’t know... Maybe I should give the baby up for adoption, I don’t have the courage to have an abortion...”

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you, sis.”

You snuggled into her loving embrace, unsure of what your life would be like in the coming months.

CHARLES LECLERC:

“When are you going to tell him, dear?” Your mother asked you as the two of you set the lunch table, it was Sunday and once a month, religiously his family gathered at his grandparents' house. Charles had already attended so many lunches that when he didn't show up, his grandparents and uncles would ask. You loved knowing that your family loved your boyfriend. “I'm sure he'll be happy, Charles loves children.”

You nodded and a small smile appeared, confident that he would love the news. You discovered you were pregnant a few days ago and had already noticed the signs. You had decided to tell her about the pregnancy after lunch, even bought a pair of children's shoes with a Ferrari design on them. Who could judge you? You were so anxious!

Soon, the family gathered around the table, talking loudly and laughing nonstop, preventing any thoughts beyond the conversations and laughter. The conversation you were having with one of your cousins was interrupted by your grandmother, questioning when you and Charles would finally have children.

Charles choked on his wine and cleared his throat. “Mhmm well... I thought Y/N mentioned that I don’t want kids.”

“You never told me that, Charl...” you said just for him to hear “I never knew that”

“No?” he looked surprised. “Really?”

Silence fell uncomfortably over the table, you gripped the handle of the cutlery you were holding, feeling your anxiety grow in a negative way.

“You’re great with kids, dear, you’d be a great dad.” your grandmother said, surprised. After all, the Monegasque was adored by the children in the family and got along very well with them all, hearing that he didn't want children was a surprise.

“I’m a good uncle,” he gave a modest smile. “I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.”

Maybe it was your fault, you and Charles didn't have that conversation, so you couldn't know he didn't want children. But it was painful anyway, mainly because you were already pregnant.

Hours later, as you drove home, you couldn't stop thinking about his words.

I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.

“You are very quiet, mon cher” He said, resting his hand on your thigh. You jumped, caught up in your thoughts, you didn't even notice his presence until he touched you. “Did something happen?”

“I was thinking about the lunch conversation...”

“It was a strange atmosphere, wasn’t it?” he gave a weak laugh, giving her leg a gentle squeeze “with so many children there, do your grandparents still want more?” his laugh sounded strange to your ears, just like that conversation.

“I’m pregnant, Charles,” you said suddenly and screamed when he slammed the car on the brakes. “CHARLES?!”

He guided the car to the side of the road and looked at you, he was as scared as you were.

“You are what?!”

“Pregnant, Charles! I was planning to tell you today, but I found out you don’t want kids!” you exasperated, loosening your belt.

“That can’t be true, you’re joking,” he said nervously. “Y/N I don’t-”

“I know! I know that, Charles! You don’t have to repeat yourself.”

You saw pure terror in his eyes and braced yourself for whatever he would say.

“I don’t want this baby, Y/N, I don’t want to be a father, not today, not ever” he said.

You took a deep breath, feeling your head throb with the headache that would soon come.

“Well then I guess we can’t go through with this, Charles,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will not give up my son for you or anyone else.”

“Mon cher, a child would disrupt our lives forever, we would no longer be able to travel, we would lose our peace and tranquility”

“You won’t lose anything, Charles, you don’t need to worry… Now, if it’s not too much to ask, can you continue? I intend to move out of your apartment today.”

“Beau, (beautiful) It doesn't have to be like this... This child-”

“Don’t say anything else Charles, don’t turn the love I feel for you into resentment” you begged, avoiding his eyes.

The rest of the way was done in complete silence, despite the grief that broke your heart, you would not let it consume you. A life outside of that would be born in a few months and you couldn't let bitterness stop you from living the good moments that the future would bring you.

Charles still tried to stop you from leaving, saying he would leave you with the apartment, but you didn't listen to him or give him a chance to convince you.

“I hope you’re happy, Charles,” was the last thing you said before you left. From then on, it was just you and the baby.

LANDO NORRIS:

There were at least five tests done on the bathroom counter and you were in a panic, pure panic. It wasn't the time to have a baby, no way. You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as you thought about the situation, there was so much at stake.

You had to decide what you were going to do, whether to have that baby, how you were going to tell Lando... Oh God, there was still Lando. You couldn't even think about what his reaction would be. There were mentions of a son, perhaps after he had won a championship or two and had achieved everything he wanted, but not at that moment, in which both were still building their lives, their careers.

“I’m here, honey!” he shouted from the living room and you threw the tests in the trash without thinking. You checked your appearance in the mirror, trying to dispel the look of astonishment that covered your face.

You put on a fake smile and ran into the living room, finding your boyfriend stretching his body. It was clear that he was exhausted, but he was glowing, winning made him feel very good and you admired the Briton's bright eyes.

“Congrats on your victory, Lan!” you jumped into his arms, kissing Lando all over his face as he laughed.

“I wish you were there, honey, but you’d hate the weather… Anyway, how about we have dinner to celebrate?”

“That’s a great idea! Why don’t you take a shower while I get ready?” You gave him a peck on the lips. “I took a shower just before you arrived and I’m already moving our time forward... You know I take a long time to get ready.”

“Ok ok, will it be sad to take a shower without you? Yes, but if it means we won’t be long in getting out, great!” he said playfully and you responded with a light slap on his arm.

“You’re ridiculous, Lando Norris! Go take a shower, you clown!”

He laughed, grabbed his carry-on bag and went to the bathroom. You let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding and went to the closet to get ready. Despite being happy for your boyfriend's victory, you didn't have the slightest desire to go out and celebrate anything, but denying dinner would make Lando suspicious. You would take the time of dinner to think about what you would say, the panic gradually subsided, allowing you to think clearly.

You were finishing putting on your makeup when Lando came out of the shower, he still had the towel wrapped around his waist. From the position you were in, you could only hear his footsteps approaching the closet.

“Y/N, what does this mean?” he appeared in your field of vision, holding up one of the pregnancy tests. “Are you pregnant?”

You felt like the ground was disappearing beneath your feet and the earth was swallowing you up. From the look on Lando's face, you wanted the earth to actually swallow you. You'd never been claustrophobic, but that closet looked terrifyingly small.

“Answer me!” he exclaimed, making you jump. “Are you pregnant?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m pregnant!” You shouted back. “I found out today.”

He laughed, there was no humor in his voice, just sarcasm and disbelief. “I should have guessed.”

“W-What are you talking about?” you stuttered, dropping your makeup on the vanity and taking a tentative step towards Lando.

“This whole shit, I should have known that at some point you would do this, who doesn’t want to get pregnant by a Formula One driver, right?” he said furiously and threw the test at your feet.

Reality hit you like a punch. Lando was claiming that you got pregnant on purpose. He thought you were a gold digger.

“Are you suggesting that I wanted to get pregnant on purpose?! Lando, I just graduated! I don’t even work yet, why the hell would I want a child now?” You yelled at him.

“Work?” he laughed wryly, running his hands through his hair. “As if you would think of that, not being supported by my money!”

His every word felt like a stab to your chest.

“I never wanted a penny from you, Lando! I always refused any thing or privilege from you!” you answered him, sitting down. Your body felt heavy, full of tiredness. “I never wanted anything from you but yourself!”

“You’re a fake, a liar like all the others!” he accused you, pointing his finger in your direction. “Get your things and get out of my house, I don't want to know anything about you anymore” he took a deep breath and for you, the rejection was nothing compared to the pain of being called a gold digger, a dowry hunter. That was a hard blow to his dignity.

You threw your clothes on the floor, only the ones you had taken to his house. After dropping all the clothes on the floor, you grabbed some bags to put all your belongings in. At that moment, Lando had already dressed and was standing in the middle of the suite.

“Tell me where you will be staying so I know where to send the child support check.” He demanded and you glared at him, you were just as angry as he was.

“You and your fucking money can rot in hell, Lando. My son and I don’t need you at all, you're dead to me, Norris, completely dead and buried.” you left the room and ignoring his screams.

Lando and his money could go fuck themselves, you never wanted to see him again!

OSCAR PIASTRI:

Sorry, I can't see Pastry in this scenario 🫣

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

That saying “in the blacksmith’s house, the spit is made of wood” made a lot of sense to you, being a doctor you knew when people were unwell just by looking at them, it was a joke not to have noticed the signs of pregnancy. So imagine how surprised you were to find that not only was your period late, but you were also experiencing frequent nausea and episodes of dizziness.

Even though getting pregnant wasn't one of your dreams, you were happy, after all, everything in your life was going well: you had a stable job, your finances were going well and your fiancé was great. Even though it wasn't planned, you were already more than excited for the baby's arrival.

You decided to tell Max during his week off, where he would be more relaxed, without the stress of work. Until his week off arrived and you were jumping up and down with anticipation to tell him, you waited for Max to relax enough. You knew he would like it, Max loved kids.

“Honey, I have something to tell you” you took advantage of the fact that he wasn’t playing and sat on his lap.

“Sure, mijn liefje (my love), I’m all ears” he took off his headphones and turned off the monitors, it was always like that when you talked to him, nothing else mattered to Max other than what you said.

“Straight to the point, I’m six weeks pregnant—”

“What do you mean you’re pregnant? That’s not possible, still more than six weeks”

An alert sounded in your mind, was Max really suggesting that you might have cheated on him?

“I was in the middle of a series of races, we barely saw each other during that month” he argued, making the doubts he had even more obvious.

“Max, you can’t be suggesting that!”

“In that case, explain to me how you are pregnant if we weren’t together!”

“Is your memory so bad that you don’t remember that we were together in Spielberg?!” you threw at him, irritated by his distrust. “I spent the entire Austrian GP weekend with you!”

“We had sex once that week, there’s no way that it was that sex that was rewarded with a child!” Max looked increasingly distraught.

“Are you kidding me, Max? I never cheated on you, I barely have time for you, let alone another man!” You were nervous to the point of shaking, you sat back down, trying to keep calm.

“I don’t believe you, Y/N, I’m sure this child’s father is that pediatrician at the hospital!”

“I’m not going to listen to anything else, you’re delusional,” you mumbled, tears blurring your vision.

“You better go away, I don’t want to know anything about you or that child!”

You wiped away your tears, feeling humiliated, hurt and offended.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make a point of letting you know anything about us,” you assured. “I'll send someone to get my things, or leave them at the reception and I'll pick them up later, I don't know!" you put on your shoes and grabbed your bag.

“Be grateful if I don’t throw it away.”

“Whatever Max, do whatever you want, I don’t care” and with that, you slammed the apartment door hard enough to knock the picture of the two of you off the wall.

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | one.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—WORD COUNT: 6.7k

—CHAPTER WARNINGS: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, mentions of a small car accident due to texting & driving (pls do not ever do this), lots of sibling bickering (i promise they love each other ok), alcohol consumption and intoxication, mentions of toxic relationships (not oc), mentions of sickness and death in immediate family

"Are you actually fucking kidding me?!" Jiwoo yells as she heads outside to meet her brother. "Wooyoung, you had one job!"

"And I got the job done, didn't I?" Wooyoung holds the grocery bag up. "Just got into a little accident, that's all." He points to the dent on the front of her car. 

"A little?! It's a huge dent! What did you do?! Mom!" Jiwoo yells as she heads back into the house. "I told you I didn't want Wooyoung driving my car!"

"Your car was already out in the driveway." Wooyoung adds, rolling his eyes as he leaves the grocery bag on the counter.

"Yeah, so ask me to move next time!"

"Stop yelling, your voice is giving me a headache. It's annoying."

"Mom! Dad!"

"Jiwoo, stop yelling." Their mom comes from out of the room, followed by their father. "You don't need to yell—"

"I do, because Wooyoung took my car and dented it!"

"What happened?" Their father asks, his hands on his hips.

"It was an accident—"

"You haven't even said sorry!"

"And I won't if you keep cutting me off and yelling." Wooyoung glares at her. "Yeah, fucking keep it up—"

"Hey!" Their father chimes in, cutting Wooyoung off. "The both of you, be quiet! I'm not going to ask again. What happened to your sister's car?"

"It was an accident." Jiwoo crosses her arms as Wooyoung repeats. "I just didn't brake in time so I gave the car in front of me a 'lil love tap."

"You were texting and driving, weren't you?"

"For the record, I responded to one text."

"Ugh." Jiwoo groans loudly. "I literally just got the car, Wooyoung!"

"Say sorry to your sister."

"Now, is that necessary? Cause I'll—"

"Jung Wooyoung." Their mother sternly calls for him, making Wooyoung let out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry." He looks at Jiwoo.

"You make sure that car gets fixed, Wooyoung. And take care of the costs. Your sister needs her car."

"What am I supposed to drive in the meantime?! Wooyoung's car?" Jiwoo smirks at him.

"Hell no!" Wooyoung spits. "You'll probably try and crash it into a tree the first chance you get."

"You can drive our SUV until it gets fixed."

"No!" Jiwoo looks at Wooyoung. "Wooyoung can just drive me around."

"I have shit to do that isn't on your time. Take the SUV." Jiwoo groans and rolls her eyes, brushing past her brother to get ready for the party.

"You're unbelievable. Seriously, what kind of brother are you?"

"Enough! Can we finally get ready for the bbq, please? People are going to be over soon. Can't get one moment of peace in this house when you two are home." Their mom checks the time, walking off to the kitchen with a loud sigh. "I hope you got everything from the list, Wooyoung." She yells just as she's about to dig into the bag.

"Wooyoung."

"What?"

"Be a little nicer to your sister."

"She's the one always jumping to conclusions and getting all mad. I didn't purposely try to get her car wrecked. At least I'm fine and not hurt, right?" Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

"I know, and yes, thank god. But, still. All you two do is butt heads, jeez. Can't you both try and get along sometimes?" 

"Whatever." Wooyoung heads up to his room, already annoyed by the fact that he has to be here with his family all up on his case about the accident. He can admit, maybe he should've paid better attention on the road. But, it's the way none of them even asked if he was okay— Jiwoo constantly whining and yelling at him, his parents getting on his ass and backing her up. His little sister was definitely the favorite, being the top student and all. Golden child. Was in band and the church choir, never really rebelled. While Wooyoung skipped a class [or the whole day], talked back to his parents, stayed out late and just.. enjoyed having fun. He had his good days, but he also had his bad days. He wasn't necessarily cold, but he wasn't going to sugarcoat shit either.

He's a stark contrast to his little sister.

So, he shouldn't be surprised that his parents are taking her side. He shouldn't be surprised they'd come to her rescue first. He shouldn't be surprised at all. He can't wait to get the fuck up outta here when the bbq is over. He'll be out as soon as the morning hits, before any of them can wake up and pester him about anything else.

You gather your hair back and secure it with a claw clip, running your cherry-flavored chapstick across your lips before pressing them together to spread it out. You check yourself in the mirror once more, not entirely crazy about your outfit for Jiwoo's family bbq today.

But, it'll do.

You had known Jiwoo since elementary school, meeting her in the 2nd grade when you sat for lunch alone and the boisterous girl joined you. She was the new girl, but she surely didn't act like it and you admired that about her. Since then, she never left your side despite your shy nature— not engaging in much in the conversation, only humming a few words or sounds in response when she ran through list of never-ending questions. 

Even though her and Wooyoung were 2 years apart and very different, you felt like they were alike in many ways [which they'd deny until the very end].

That's how Jiwoo became your bestfriend. Because throughout all of life's changes, through your losses, she was your constant. She stayed, never wavered. Was your biggest support system alongside of your grandpa. Without her, you're not sure where you'd be. You owe alot of the push you've done in life to her.

yeosang: i'm downstairs!

you: cooooool, be down in a sec

*yeosang liked your message*

You check your outfit in the mirror once more, smoothing down the fabric before spraying a bit of perfume on your wrists. You press them together and rub it down your neck, down your clothes— a simple yellow floral tube top, white distressed jeans and your tore up chucks. It seemed fitting for a summer bbq; not one to wear dresses, shorts or mini skirts like that.

"Yo." Yeosang quickly scans your outfit just as you plop into the passenger seat and greet him. "You look nice."

"Thank you." You smile. "And thanks for picking me up." He reciprocates the smile, waiting for you to buckle up before driving off to Jiwoo's parents' house. From your tiny studio, it's about 25 minutes of a drive. Yeosang doesn't have to take the highway or anything, but he does have to navigate through the busy streets of the city before reaching their neighborhood. Jiwoo's parents celebrate their birthdays a day apart from each other, but it fell during the work week this year. So, they decided to throw a bbq with family and close friends on the weekend in order to be with everyone.

"What'd you do today?"

"I just went to get some groceries and bought a little gift for Jiwoo's parents. What about you?"

"Uh yeah, I just got their gift right before I picked you up." Yeosang chuckles. "Otherwise, I slept in a bit too much and by the time I knew it, half of my day was gone." You laugh.

"Yeo." You laugh. "You should really try waking up early. It's nice to get the most out of your day."

"It is, but you know what's also nice? Being under my covers." You laugh and shake your head, eyes fixed on the view through your window. The rest of the ride is comfortably silent with Yeosang's music playing in the background, especially since it isn't much of a drive. He does chime in here and there when he's reminded of random things he has to do or thinks about. Besides that, Yeosang is good at leaving you to your peace. When he pulls up to the street, he's having to park across from the house— Jiwoo's family and their close family friends already filling the spaces nearby.

"Oh! Y/N, Yeosang!" Jiwoo's mom sees you first, pulling you both into a hug before gesturing towards the kitchen. "Jiwoo is in here!" You both greet her happy birthday before following her into the chaotic scene that is the kitchen, Wooyoung quickly brushing past with a huge bowl of marinated beef in his hands and almost bumping into Jiwoo as she holds a huge pitcher filled with juice in her own.

"Wooyoung, move!" Jiwoo nudges him away and he glares at her.

"Stop! You'll make me drop this."

"What about me, butterfingers?"

"What about me, butterfingers?" He mocks her with a look before rolling his eyes and heading out to the backyard to meet his dad by the grill.

"I swear to God." She groans, before finally shifting her attention to you and Yeosang.

"Hi." You smile at her and you expect her mood to be lifted, but she continues to pout.

"Y/N, Yeo. Finally. Get me out of here. Please, let's just slip through the front door, no one will notice."

"Where's Joong? He has to come on our escape plan, too." You playfully go along with it.

"He's not here yet." She sighs.

"What's wrong?" Yeosang asks with a small chuckle. You look at Jiwoo with a slight head tilt, reading into the frustration in her eyes.

"Today is just so messy." She whines a bit, setting the pitcher down onto the main dining table. "Wooyoung's dumbass used my car and got into a little accident earlier."

"Oh, is he okay?"

"Yeah, look at him! He's the fucking same. But, you know what isn't? My car! The bumper is all dented and everything. You didn't see it walking into the house?" She lets out another frustrated groan and shakes her head. "Whatever, anyway, he's gonna make sure it gets fixed. He better."

"Was it his fault?"

"Yes." She sighs. "Texting and driving. Like an idiot."

"It'll be fine, Jiwoo. It's unfortunate, but I'm glad he's okay. I'm sure your brother will make sure it gets fixed in time." You add.

"He's so frustrating sometimes. Can't trust him with anything." You both follow her out to the backyard that is already filled with familiar faces. 

"It's okay, it'll get fixed." You give her a small smile and squeeze her arm. "Let's just enjoy today, okay?" She gives you a small smile and throws her arm around you, bringing you over to one of the free couches near the back corner of the yard. Some of her family members are playing badminton on the other side of the backyard, while another cousin is playing music and has Wooyoung and his friends hovering around, conveniently close to the grill.

"Oh, Y/N. I wish I could be like you, sometimes. So much patience and grace. Things I need to be successfully related to Wooyoung."

"You have it. Just.. needs more practice." Yeosang responds, making you chuckle. You finally find her dad and greet him happy birthday before greeting the rest of her family members. You, Jiwoo and Yeosang hang around the backyard for a bit, talking about work and the upcoming summer party. You don't chime in much, nor do you want to being that it'll be your third year not attending. Luckily, at this point, Jiwoo's boyfriend, Hongjoong, walks into the backyard and starts greeting everyone before he plops himself right next to Jiwoo.

"Yo! Sorry I'm a little late." He looks at you and Yeosang. "Friends! I missed you, guys. It's nice to see your faces." You laugh.

"Hi Joong."

"Where were you? I was texting and calling you!" She pouts. "We had an escape plan ready."

"Escape plan?" Joong cocks a brow up.

"Yes, so I can get away from this mess named Wooyoung and cry to myself in peace." 

"Baby, I'm sorry. I was caught up with my dad, he needed help with a few errands. The car will get fixed, okay? Glad no one was badly hurt." You smile to yourself as he kisses her on the temple. Hongjoong is a really good guy. He's perfect for Jiwoo and has a lot of patience for her. He cares for her a lot, and it's so clear you wouldn't ever second guess his feelings for her. He's selfless and would do anything for his lady without question.

You wonder what it'd be like to experience genuine true love like that. You've been in a relationship before but you couldn't exactly say it was love. Not a genuine, raw form of love, not a deep connection. Just a relationship where you learned about your partner and they learned about you, but that was far as it went. You don't remember feeling like the relationship was special, or like it was meant for you. It was more so another experience, another lesson in your book.

How does it feel to be completely, utterly, disgustingly in love and smitten with someone?

"I'll be back, I'm gonna get a drink." You mutter mid-conversation, getting up from the seat to head back into the kitchen. To your surprise, Wooyoung is there, sorting through some of the drinks set out.

"Oh, hey." Wooyoung gives you a small smile while you silently wait for him to move away from the counter where all the drinks are sitting— soda, juice and hard alcohol bottles spread across the surface. "Want me to make you something to drink?"

"Um." You softly respond. "It's alright, I was just gonna grab some juice." You point at the pitcher.

"You sure? You aren't driving anyway, right?" He points to Yeosang who is now talking to one of their cousins near the wading pool. 

"Mmyeah, I came here with Yeo."

"Alright then." He smirks. "I'll make it pretty light, hm?"

"Okay." You smile sweetly at him. You've always had the sweetest smile and Wooyoung does enjoy seeing it, he won't lie. "Thank you, Wooyoung."

"Course." You twiddle with your fingers as you watch Wooyoung make a pretty concoction in a cocktail shaker, pouring in peach schnapps and cranberry juice with a dash of vodka. He transfers the drink into a fresh cup, handing it over with a smile on his face. "Wanna taste it before you go?" You sip on the drink, eyes lighting up at how good it tasted. You weren't exactly a fan of cocktails [or alcohol in general], though you wouldn't turn down a drink or two on some occasions.

"Mm, it's good!" He chuckles.

"Yeah? Kinda pulled the measurements out of my ass but I didn't put too much vodka."

"What're you doing?" Jiwoo walks into the kitchen.

"Listening to Y/N tell me how good my drink is." She looks at you with a brow cocked up.

"You don't have to lie to him." You giggle.

"It's actually good." You hand her your cup to taste the drink. She takes a good sip and nods in approval, shifting her attention to her brother.

"She wouldn't lie to me." Wooyoung winks at you.

"Can you make me one?"

"Nah. Bar's closed now. See what all that doubting does?" Wooyoung puts the lid back onto the vodka bottle before turning on his heel to walk away.

"You're a dick."

"Love you too." He says as he walks outside and returns to his bestfriend, San.

"You okay?" You ask her as she pours some juice into her cup.

"Yeah, I just came in here wondering why it was taking you so long to get juice." You laugh as you follow her back out into the backyard and to Yeosang and Hongjoong.

"Caught your bartending brother before he closed."

"Bartending brother?" Yeosang and Hongjoong both ask.

"Mm, Wooyoung made Y/N a drink and didn't even make me one." They laugh.

"Of course."

"Anyway, do you guys wanna sit at the wading pool? Dip our feet in and watch my family act a fool?"

"Sure. That sounds fun." Yeosang shrugs.

Throughout the rest of the bbq, you, Jiwoo, Hongjoong and Yeosang engage in a few other activities with her cousins besides hanging around the wading pool with her baby cousins— karaoke, some rounds of badminton, watching Jiwoo go head to head with her brother and older cousins in beer pong. From time to time, you catch Wooyoung looking over at you, giving off tiny smiles to be friendly. It isn't entirely uncommon, Wooyoung was always nice to you despite the distance. You don't talk much, but he doesn't necessarily treat you like a stranger especially after all these years.

It's a nice thing about him, their family— they're there for you.

They're there for you so much that Jiwoo comes up with the most incredible [in her terms] idea while she catches you cheering for Wooyoung during the very last round of beer pong against their cousins. It gets rowdier and rowdier, Wooyoung and his cousins yelling back and forth; their voices echoing into the sky. You try to sink behind Yeosang, jumping at the sudden cheers and random banging.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just a little loud." You scrunch your nose, Yeosang throwing his arm around you to provide some kind of comfort during the round. When evening officially hits, the partying doesn't stop. If anything, it gets a little more rowdy with alcohol running through everyone's system. 

"Oh, fuck!" Wooyoung says, the beer tipping out of his cup when his cousin rams into him and spilling onto your jeans. 

"Jung Wooyoung!" You hear his mom yell while his dad laughs alongside of her, nudging her to let it go.

"Oh shit, Y/N. I'm so sorry." He looks at you before glaring at his cousin. "You dipshit, look at what you did!"

"Wooyoung!" Jiwoo yells, dabbing a napkin to the wet spot on your jeans.

"It's okay, Jiwoo—" You try to chime in, but your response gets drowned within the ruckus.

"It's Sebeom's fault, not mine! Why is everyone calling my name!"

"You both are idiots!" She groans, taking another napkin to your leg.

"The hell is the napkin gonna do, Jiwoo?" Wooyoung sets his cup down before gently grabbing your wrist. "Let's go dab some water on that." You silently follow behind, letting Wooyoung politely drag you into the kitchen. He's clearly drunk, fighting with the paper towel roll before he successfully peels off a few sheets and runs it under the water.

"Wooyoung, it's okay. I can always throw it in the wash."

"Still, it'll get sticky and smell like beer in the meantime." He says, crouching down and dabbing the wet towel to the spilled beer on your jeans. "I'm sorry, Y/N. You know how my family gets."

"It's alright." You watch as he pinches the edge of your jeans and tugs it outwards, widening the surface area as he continues to wipe away. 

"It might look worse at first, but the water will help." He clicks his teeth. "Did it get anywhere else on you?" 

"Just my left arm but it's fine—" He stands, albeit a bit wobbly at first, taking another end of the napkin to dab away at the small wet spots on your arm.

"Okay." He says, tossing the tissue away. "Better." He gives you a toothless smile. "Won't do it again."

"Thank you, Wooyoung. It's fine, it's not a big deal. Really."

"As long as I did a better job than Jiwoo." He says, leading you back out to the backyard.

"You made it worse!" Jiwoo yells.

"It gets worse before it gets better! Plus, the beer smell won't be lingering." Wooyoung scoffs. "At least Y/N is grateful for it." As soon as you've settled next to your friends, everyone begins to sing happy birthday to Wooyoung and Jiwoo's parents before digging in for more food and sharing the ginormous cake Jiwoo ordered from a mutual friend. Wooyoung brushes Jiwoo off to the side, determining that he has the best cake-cutting skills between the both of them.

"Here, Y/N. For you." Wooyoung hands you a hefty slice of cake, eyes still glazed over from the alcohol he had been drinking. You watch as he licks the icing from his thumb, shaking his head in ironic approval. "The cake is so good. Thank god Jiwoo got it right for once—"

"Wooyoung, shut up!" 

"Don't start again!" Their mom yells from the other end of the table, yet the two continue to bicker. You, Hongjoong and Yeosang stay out of it and eat away at the cake, continuing to mingle with their family members for the rest of the night until Yeosang feels his social battery dying.

"You ready? We could stay if you want, though." You shake your head.

"I'm good. Let's go say bye to Jiwoo and her parents." He nods. You find Jiwoo first, talking to one of her aunts off to the side. You squeeze her wrist as a signal that you and Yeo are getting ready to leave, her eyes widening. Bottom lip poking out. Whines ready to leave her lips.

"Nooo, you're leaving me? Please take me with you." You laugh and rub her back as you pull away from the hug.

"You'll see me tomorrow. I'll be expecting you to come over."

"First thing in the morning. Leave some room in your bed." Yeosang shakes his head and turns to Hongjoong to bid him farewell.

"Make sure you bring her girlfriend home safely." Hongjoong says seriously, patting Yeosang on the back. 

"Will do." He nods. You follow Yeosang out towards the front door, clinging onto his sleeve as you navigate the busy house. You almost slip out successfully until Wooyoung pauses in his steps, doing a double-take when he catches you on his way back to the backyard.

"You're leaving?" You nod, chuckling to yourself when you see him drunk-whining just like his sister. "It's early!" He whines a bit. "Were you not gonna say bye to me? I thought we were cool, Y/N."

"Bye Wooyoung." You wrap your arms around his waist as he pulls you into a rough, but tight bear hug. "Bye San." You wave at San, in which he responds with a tiny smile and wave.

"Drive safely!" He calls out before leaving. You finally get out of the house, Yeosang waiting for you by the front door. You're not even gonna lie, you are pretty exhausted already, and you're excited to get washed up to lay in bed and pick up your current read. Jiwoo's family was always fun, so lively and full of energy. They fit so well together, like they were all perfectly molded and crafted as one. They've become like your second family, and you wished you had your own you could be the same with. But, that also goes to say, their parties always leave you exhausted.

When Yeosang gets you home, you thank him for the ride and give him a hug once he's dropped you off at the door. You slowly waddle into the studio, a smile on your face when you see your bed, your nightlight— the smell of incense still lingering in the room. You quickly hop in the shower and get ready for bed, looking at the big, bright 10:27pm in white on your nightstand clock. You slip into bed, getting cozy under your sheets before grabbing your book. Jiwoo is texting you and Yeosang pictures from today, including ones of her cousins getting crazy during beer pong.

Today was fun. It's over, and it was fun.

Today is not over for Jiwoo, though.

A few of their family members linger around while Jiwoo and her mom continue to clean around the house. She orders her lazy ass brother to haul out the bags of trash to the garbage can and to clean up the remaining mess from the beer pong game out in the backyard. Once all of the cleaning as finished, Jiwoo rushes to the bathroom to beat her brother for a shower. She feels like she can finally relax, finally settle down, finally set her plan in motion—

"I need you to do me a favor." Jiwoo leans against the doorframe of Wooyoung's old room as he folds his clothes neatly into his duffle bag, grabbing a new pair of clothes to change into once he's showered.

"Depends." He mutters, not taking his eyes off of his bag.

"No, you at least owe me this." He scoffs.

"Nevermind, I need to shower. Come back to me in 3-5 business days—"

"You didn't even make me a drink earlier!

"Not my fault you doubted my bartending skills." He furrows his brows. "Plus, I already told you I was getting your car fixed."

"Great, then you can do one more favor for me." Wooyoung sighs as he turns to look at her.

"What, Jiwoo?"

"Can you be Y/N's date to our company's summer party?"

"What?" Wooyoung furrows his brows and lets out a pathetic chuckle. "You're kidding, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean? She's my bestfriend."

"Yeah, clearly. Why can't she find someone else to go with her? Like that guy you two are close with, Yeosang?"

"Um, that's weird." She furrows her brows. "That won't do. If she wanted to go with him, she would've done it a long time ago. You know her. She hasn't gone the past two years, I'm not gonna let her pass up on this one."

"So then go ask your man if he has a friend he can spare?"

"She's not gonna wanna go with any of his friends!"

"Too damn bad."

"You cleaned up her jeans like a saint earlier!" 

"Because it was the right thing to do! What does that even have to do with this?!"

"Wooyoung." She whines, almost stomping her foot. Wooyoung pauses to look back up at her.

"Even if I agreed, you do know how awkward this might be, right? Not only for me, but for her, too." Wooyoung shrugs. "I know she's been your bestfriend for years but we aren't exactly close like that. We're two very different people. We can't exactly spend a whole evening together. Alone."

"I'll be there with Hongjoong."

"That's what I said. We'd be alone." Jiwoo groans.

"She'd definitely be more comfortable with you than someone else!"

"Doubt that. She's quiet and shy. Very much the opposite of me?"

"Yeah, big ass mouth."

"That can be useful." He smirks, making Jiwoo wince in disgust.

"You're so disgusting, Wooyoung. Maybe I should take this back."

"You really think she'd play along with this?"

"Yes!" Wooyoung squints his eyes.

"You didn't even tell her about this plan, did you?"

"She'll go along with it. Please. I just want her to go and have fun for once."

"Hm." He hums, deep in thought. "Nah."

"Just one night!" Wooyoung sighs.

"No."

"Wooyoung!" She pouts.

"Jiwoo, seriously. Quit."

"You owe me! I've had your back so many times, and I've never asked you for anything else out of the ordinary." He looks at Jiwoo and he actually feels a bit bad about the car situation. And it's true, even though they don't always get along, Jiwoo has always had his back and covered for him when she didn't entirely need to. She's always had his back even when he didn't really deserve it. He subtly nibbles on the inside of his cheek, letting out a deep sigh before shaking his head.

"Whatever. Tell me the details." She squeals and he quickly turns. "And by the way, this is your idea. Not mine. I'm only doing you a favor so you can stop hounding me about the car. It's one night and that's it. If she gets mad, that's all on you."

"Fine. Consider your debt paid." She gives him a small smile. "Thank you."

"What are you talking about, Jiwoo?"

"I want you to go to the party and have fun." She pouts a bit, brushing your hair away from your face. You furrow your brows at her, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

"But, parties aren't really my thing." You shrug. "And besides, I don't really have anyone to go with. I hate to say it, but I don't wanna show up alone. Everyone has dates they can bring. You have Hongjoong." You look over Jiwoo's shoulder and catch Yeosang talking to his team members at the far end of the room. He catches you looking over, flashing you a small smile before returning his attention to his coworker.

Yeosang was great, no lie. He was a good guy, everyone could see that from miles away. He was smart, diligent, kind, and the biggest team player. He started at the same time as your cohort of new hires, Jiwoo starting a couple of months beforehand. When you saw him in person, you did find him attractive. He was at a good height and well-built, black flowy hair framing his chiseled face. At first, you thought Yeosang was just being nice to you. But, slowly, he'd accompany you to the break room for coffee breaks. Bring you coffee and pastries from another shop on random mornings. Occasional outings to lunch. Until finally, he'd accompany you to casual dinners where it felt a little too serious to be considered casual— you just didn't wanna dwell on it. Too shy to say anything or bring it up because your brain goes on overdrive and makes you think you're reading into this more than you should.

He was just your friend, being your friend. So you'd like to think.

You weren't really sure what you wanted out of this, but at this moment in time, you felt like Yeosang was good enough as that. If people found out you weren't entirely into him, they'd probably think you're crazy. And you probably are, but as much as you appreciate Yeosang's company and his kindness, you fear you'd be forcing yourself into something with him.

That's not what you think Yeosang deserves.

If anything were to develop, you'd like it to develop naturally. It hasn't yet, so maybe this was a sign that you two were actually better off as friends? You're not good at this whole dating thing, reading into signs and signals.

"I know you don't really wanna go with him either."

"It's not that. I just feel like it'd be awkward and I'd ruin our friendship. It'd feel way too forced for me."

"Y/N, you're gonna have to tell him sooner or later." You shake your head. "Then?"

"Then, I don't know. I just don't know about him. That's why I'm perfectly fine staying home and being away from all of that."

"What if my brother goes with you?" Your eyes widen.

"W-Wooyoung?" She nods. "No, Jiwoo. Is this what this is all about?"

"Look, don't get mad, okay? Just hear me out." You cross your arms as she lets out a breath. "I asked my brother to accompany you to the party and he agreed to go."

"What?!" You say a bit louder than expected. "Is it because he feels bad for me?"

"No! Shh!" Jiwoo furrows her brows at you. "I mean, he also owes me, but—" 

"Jiwoo, I'm not a charity case!" You harshly whisper.

"I know, I know! You aren't. I just really want you to go." Truthfully, if this were any other person or circumstance, you'd probably feel a little hurt [even with good intentions]. You'd certainly feel like a charity case, and you'd feel sorry for yourself; especially for having to be set up in this way.

But, you're surprisingly not all that hurt by it.

Again, you know Jiwoo has good intentions and she would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. She does have a point— you haven't really gone to any of the big summer parties. You didn't mind it, but now that you think about it, you feel like you can't hide forever. The feeling of missing out settles in the pit of your stomach, and it's awful.

You're probably the only person who ducks out on these things. You're the one to blame for choosing not to be involved and for shielding yourself away from people, any inconvenience, etc. Shielding yourself away from fun, happiness. Life doing its thing.

"Mm yeah." You look at her. "I'm not close to your bother like that, though." It's true despite how he can be in person. Although you and Jiwoo were glued to the hip growing up, Wooyoung had his own group of friends and didn't pay much attention to you and his little sister. You both knew the basics about each other, have gone on trips together, tagged along with Wooyoung when he was the only means of transportation for you and Jiwoo. Why would he be worried about you, anyway? You two were busy fangirling over B2K, young Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You and Sean Patrick Thomas in Save the Last Dance, screaming at the top of your lungs whenever your favorite songs came on and shopping for hours at the same mall almost every weekend.

Not exactly Wooyoung's cup of tea.

Wooyoung was always rough-housing with his friends or going on casual 'dates' with different girls, blasting his 90s music in his room [like Vivrant Thing by Q-Tip, it's his fave] that'd shake Jiwoo's walls and drive her crazy. He had a few relationships that always ended up crazy toxic and you've seen the girls crying over him on their doorstep or throwing shit at his window to grab his attention after days of no communication. Despite that, he's not entirely a bad brother. He did his best to support Jiwoo throughout all her milestones in life, never missing an important event or being there for her when she needed her brother more than anyone else. They bicker and fight. A lot. But, they'd be there for each other in a heartbeat if needed. No question.

"You are, enough! You know he's full of himself and gross." You give her a look.

"Okay, really? That's supposed to make this better?"

"Sorry, kidding. Just my defense mechanism as his sister." She crosses her arms and sighs. "But, Wooyoung isn't exactly a stranger. And knowing my brother, he'd lead the entire time. Just let him accompany you to the party and call it a night! At least you'll be there with me and we can have fun together."

"You're gonna be busy with Hongjoong." You slowly walk back to your desk.

"I'm not. At least not entirely." 

"Jiwoo." You look at her.

"I won't be too busy with him! I promise." Jiwoo looks at the date on your computer. "It's up to you, Wooyoung already agreed. But, today's the last day to RSVP."

"I feel bad, I told Yeosang I wasn't going."

"This isn't entirely how I'd go about things but hey, he'll see you with my brother. Maybe that'll initiate a talk, and you can tell him you don't want to ruin your friendship."

"Mm." You hum and pull up the email with the RSVP button, not really trying to think about the whole thing too deeply. "I don't have anything to wear."

"It's fine, we'll go shopping soon! We have some time before the party." She softly squeals as she watches you type away and send off your RSVP.

"Jiwoo, I don't know how to get ready for these things. I can't even do my hair and makeup properly."

"Babe. I will help you get this sorted out. Don't even worry. We're gonna have fun! It'll be good. I'm just happy you're finally coming." You give her a small smile.

"I hope it'll be good." Your bottom lip slightly pokes out. "Am I supposed to text your brother and thank him?"

"No. Don't worry about him."

"He's accompanying me to the party, of course—"

"Seriously, don't. It'll be fine. I promise."

"Papa?" You gently open the door and walk in, setting your shoes aside.

"Is that my girl?" Your grandfather comes from around the kitchen, holding two small bowls of rice in his hand. "You made it in time for dinner!"

"I can never miss dinner with you." You giggle, stepping out of your shoes and placing your things down before taking your place at the table. "How was your day today, papa?"

"Good." He sits in front of you with a smile.

"Did you exercise like you promised?"

"Yes." He gives you a look, making you chuckle. Your grandfather was 77 years old and still active, still healthy as can be. When you moved out, you made him promise he'd continue his exercise regimen and that he'd continue to keep himself healthy with wholesome foods. Reading. Going out and exploring the town. After all these years, he's the only one who has taken care of you well— having lost your mom and dad at an early age due to illnesses, same thing with your grandma. Despite the adversity, your grandpa made sure to put you first even if he was hurting, if he was tired, if he was stressed. He never took that out on you. He never made you feel like you were a burden, or like there was love lacking under his roof.

It was time for you to do the same.

"Good." 

"How was the bbq?"

"Good! It was fun. Loud. Chaotic. Per usual at the Jung household." He laughs.

"Sounds like you had a good time." You nod. "How about work?"

"It was okay. It was pretty busy at first, but eventually settled." You avoid contact, digging into your rice when you grab a piece of samgyeopsal sitting in front of you. He watches you closely, seeing how you've gotten quieter in the last few minutes, signaling you were hiding something.

"Did else happen today that's making you watch the rice in your bowl?" You give off a tiny laugh and shake your head.

"Mm, well. Jiwoo convinced me to go to the summer party."

"You're going?" He smiles from ear to ear, happy to hear that you're finally going to enjoy yourself at the summer party you always avoided. He never forced you to do things outside of your comfort zone, but he did wish you'd go and enjoy yourself from time to time. Be happy. Have fun. "Good, I'm happy you're going! Is Jiwoo going with Hongjoong?"

"Mhm!"

"Then.." Papa looks at you with a small smirk. "Are you going with Yeosang?" You shake your head.

"N-no."

"No?" He looks at you, surprised. You've definitely talked to your grandfather about Yeosang and how you were feeling about everything. Even then, he was still surprised you weren't going together as friends.

"I'm going with Wooyoung."

"Jiwoo's brother?" You nod.

"Papa, it's kinda stupid. The way everything happened and how I ended up going."

"Nothing is stupid. Try me. How did you end up with Wooyoung as your date?"

"Well, now I'm gonna sound like a charity case."

"You are not." You give your grandpa a look before stuffing your face with more rice and pork.

"Wooyoung got into a little accident while using Jiwoo's car."

"Is he alright?" You nod.

"Yes, he's okay. Jiwoo is having him cover the car.. but also slipped in another favor." You shyly look up as you continue to nibble on your food, and your grandpa laughs.

"Ah, and that favor is the party, I'm assuming."

"Yeah. It's silly."

"It's not. She's coming from a good place and just wants you there. The whole car thing is unfortunate but for her, seems to be the right stroke of luck to get her bestfriend at the summer party." You giggle.

"I guess you could say that." You sigh. "I'm just worried about Yeosang. I told him I wasn't going and I'm not sure I will."

"You'll just show up with Wooyoung?" You shrug.

"I don't know how to do these things, Papa. I don't wanna hurt him, but I really can't see myself being his date or taking this further. I don't know what to say or how to say it yet."

"Eventually, you're gonna have to, you know that, right? For the sake of your friendship. He seems like a great guy, and I'm sure he'll understand whatever the case is, Y/N."

"I know." You shake your head. "I will. But, not now." Papa nods quietly before eating another spoonful.

"It'll turn out fine, okay? Don't worry about it too much."

"Thank you." You softly smile.

"Anyways, back to Wooyoung—" He pauses to eat some more. "It's not the most common way to find a date. But, weirdly, I'm glad it happened this way. I want you to go and have fun." You silently look at him. "Life doesn't slow down, you don't get any younger. Take the opportunities no matter how silly it may sound at first. Make more memories."

"I know. I'm just.. I feel awful that Wooyoung even has to go with me. He's probably going to have the worst time."

"Don't say that. He's going with you and the both of you will have fun. Let yourself have fun. Plus, it's Wooyoung. You know him. I'm sure he'll do what he can to make sure you are comfortable."

"I guess so."

"Enjoy, and have fun. Don't worry about anything, promise me that?"

"I'll try."

"That's all I can ask for." Because all he wanted was to see you happy. Genuinely happy in your own skin. Enjoying yourself. Having fun. 

All he wanted was to see you smile over life again.

—PERMANENT TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid

[mickyschumacher]

[APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES! PT.1]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, he learns he should really read the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift comes into use. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), protected sex (for the 1st time ever here) childhood lovers (bc oscar IS this trope), face sitting/riding + consent, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs, mentions of spiders :(

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the majority who thought aphrodisiacs and oscar sounded good... hope you like it! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Summer cleaning. You did it every January with Oscar when he came back home to Australia. The reasons you did it? Well, it gave you some peace and the pure free time you had with Oscar was limited. It didn't sound that fun but every year, you managed to make the most of it by reminiscing all the old memories you made, the past year or long ago. The bonus side: you kept things clean!

Last January you had both found an old scrapbook of Oscar and you that you had poorly made with the glue sticks that bare stuck no matter how much you slathered onto the paper, various croppings of coloured paper, loose glitter that hung on by a thread, and the cheapest driest markers you had found (you both thought you took them from primary school).

As horrifically it was made, it was sweet, sending you back down memory lane. The part that made the best was the secret confession in the back of it Oscar had written down with his god-awful six-year-old handwriting. Upon seeing 'really' spelt 'rallllly' and 'pretty' as 'pritty', it was safe to say, Oscar rushed to put the book back as quickly as you found it.

"Babe... what happen to cleaning?" Oscar queried, hand resting on the top of step ladder with raised brows as he looked down at you on the floor. He was moving around the books you stored at the top shelf of

You were sprawled on the floor, relishing the cool breeze the fan brought you. "It's 30 degrees, bro. What do you want me to do? I'm tired. The air outside is warm. It's gross," You complained, feeling your skin stick to the floorboards.

Oscar narrowed his eyes at your words, taking careful steps down the ladder now. "First of all, don't ever call me 'bro' again. Because that's fucking gross," He told you, taking your hand and pulling you up from the floor. "Secondly, you are sugar crashing. We probably should've had lunch an hour or so ago."

You pouted at the sound of sugar, slumping against Oscar's shoulder. "Why are we doing this?" You groaned.

Oscar chuckled, holding you tighter against him. "We're doing this so you don't call me in a few weeks and scream about spiders popping up everywhere."

You curled your lip in annoyance, pushing yourself off of him. "You suck," You retorted, walking over to your fridge. You took a moment to savour the cold air radiating from it as you opened the door before searching for something cold to eat. Your heart deflated at the mostly empty fridge. You hadn't been able to go shopping because everyone was either closed or had close early. You didn't even have any ice cream! The sheer audacity...

Your eyes flickered over your options before a red box caught your eye. You gasped, taking out the container and dangling it in front of Oscar. "We still need to finish these!"

Oscar turned his head towards you, recognising the red box quickly. It was part of the pack of sweets Daniel had given him for Secret Santa last year. To be honest, Oscar didn't have that much of sweet tooth. At least, he had nothing on you. He knew the moment he got it, it was going into his suitcase with prayers that it didn't melt in the Oceanic heat during transit.

While spending Christmas with your families, you, his sisters, and Oscar (mostly you) had taken the liberty to consume most of the candy. By the time you had eaten all the candy canes and small bits, the sight of the mere red box of chocolates made all of you feel sick. So you put it inside your fridge, saving it for some other desperate time. And said desperate time had soon come around in early January during your summer cleaning.

While Oscar would've preferred actual food to eat, he too was at his wits ends. When he nodded, he watched you excitedly come towards him as if you were preparing for your sugar rush.

You sat next to him, knee-to-knee. Opening the box without thinking too much, you both began eating the variety of chocolates. They were in various shades of brown and white, topped of with edible glitter or other candy. You were more than halfway through the box before you wondered what the different flavours were. You popped another into your mouth before closing the box to turn to it's back.

Raspberry... hazelnut... cinnamon.... maca root... epimedium?

Wait what?

"Oh fuck." You heard Oscar whisper.

You raised a brow, lowering the box, still finishing the piece in your mouth. "What's wrong?"

Oscar winced, sucking in a sharp breath before turning the front of the box to you, index finger pointing at the fine print underneath the brand's name.

APHRODISIAC CHOCOLATES.

Effects dependent on the amount eaten and the person. Eat at your own risk.

Your eyes widened, hand almost dropping the box. "Oscar... there's like three left."

Oscar's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. He pondered the gift. No wonder Daniel was smiling so weirdly at him after he received his gift. That plus his incessant texting, asking whether he had finished all the candy. Shit...

A nervous laugh fell from Oscar's lips as his ears turned red. "I mean... it won't work, right? Surely... this is a scam... a gimmick?"

Your mouth was dry. "Let's check online, hmm?" You told him, taking out your phone. Oscar shuffled closer next you, eyeing the screen cautiously. Typing the product name into the search bar, you felt your cheeks become hot once the results came pouring in.

The best chocolates for sex in 2023!

Horny chocolates for horny lovers. See our favourites!

Viral aphrodisiac chocolates reviewed to be really good.

You pressed your lips, clicking on the last link. Your eyes skimmed the page. You could hear Oscar read the reviews, voice getting louder with every passing second. "Was unsure but no regrets... Bedroom was on fire.. more than... t-three rounds?! Be careful how many you consume... effects stronger with more consumption.... lasts up to three hours?!"

You laughed awkwardly. "S-Surely not. I'm mean not that it's terrible but we still have cleaning to do. I'm sure these are fake reviews... you know like to disguise drop shipping." It was a poor excuse slipping from the likes of your mouth but it was an excuse nonetheless.

Oscar nodded slowly. "Right... cleaning! Yes, that's... that's it! We should probably do that," He told you taking the box out of your hands and putting it to the side.

You and Oscar weren't necessarily awkward or shy about sex. You communicated perfectly well. But the concept of eating aphrodisiac chocolates that were given by his co-worker much less a fellow Australian definitely sent the both of you down the lane of uncertainty.

To be honest, you weren't feeling anything anyways... yet.

Together, the both of you had managed to get all the cleaning done. The thought of the chocolates were long gone after you had multiple Daddy Long Legs come out of the attic, half scaring you to death and sending Oscar into a fit of laughter (although he wouldn't admit he was terrified for a brief second).

Having enough and thrilled you were finished, you were both down to take a nap in your bedroom with all the doors closed and the aircon on blast.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Your nap was going great. It was so good you were sure the red lines of your sheets were embedded into your skin. You were dreaming... it was hot and sticky, it was in the shower for a second and the beach the next and Oscar's hands were all over you.

But all goods things must come to an end.

Especially if it means waking up in Oscar's arms, ass pressed against his hard cock and his hips rutting against you.

With sleepy eyes, you tilted your head to capture a glimpse of Oscar who looked wide awake with a sheen of sweat covering his face. His arms around you tightened when he met your eyes. You furrowed your brows. "Os.. did you not sleep?"

A strained sigh fell from his lips, releasing his hot breath onto your shoulder. "How could I? You were moaning my name and these fucking chocolates are killing me here. God, you sounded so good, baby," Oscar whispered, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

Your eyes closed naturally at his touch. You were sure you were already wet from the dream but the tingling between your thighs was intensifying. "Oscar," You softly whined.

His hips jerked against you, making you both moan quietly. "I need you, sweetheart. Let me eat you out... please," He pleaded, feeling his cock impossibly tighten.

Clenching your thighs together, you nodded frantically. At your notion, you watched Oscar peel himself away from you. You couldn't hide the shock on your face when you discovered he had already removed his pants long ago. He had been grinding into your ass naked. His cock stood straight, skimming the surface of his lower stomach. It looked different. Angrier... harder... not necessarily bigger but it stood as if it was ready to ruin you.

Oscar eagerly spread your legs with both of his hands, cursing when he saw the patch of wet darkness on your shorts. Carefully, he took away your short, leaving in your panties which were fully damp and clinging to every possible fold of yours. "Shit," He muttered, fingers gingerly pulling the front of your underwear so it was tightly pressed against your pussy.

In his peripheral, he could see your legs squirm, getting antsy for his touch. If he was being honest, Oscar could barely think straight. All this aphrodisiac in his system had sent him overdrive. He couldn't tell what he wanted to do first. Whether he should rub his cock against you so the both of you came like two virgin teenagers going at it for the first time... if he should just fuck you to oblivion or whether he should eat you and find every crevice till you were shaking against him and begging for more..

"Ride my face," Oscar simply stated, peeling away your underwear to reveal your bare pussy. He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from taking you right then and there.

You gasped at the intrusion of cold air on your hot folds. Oscar had said something... what was it again? "R...Ride your face?" You shakily whispered. "A-Are you sure? I... don't you need to breathe?"

In any other moment, Oscar would've laughed lightly. But his need for you was far too strong. He nodded, moving to the side so he laid on his back. "Baby, I've never been so sure of something in my life. Trust me. I've got you," He assured, lust thick with his promise.

You sucked in a sharp breath, unable to mull over the proposition because your answer was already clear by the way your pussy was clenching around nothing and your arousal had increased ten-fold. You moved over Oscar's body, hovering over his face. His hot breath sent a shudder up your spine while his hands naturally placed themselves on your hips, slowly pulling you down, legs on either side of his face.

A groan slipped out of his lips. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating Oscar. He could've sworn that he was fucking pussy-drunk.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling his nose against your clit and his warm tongue flat against your folds. "Oh, fuck," You moaned, thighs tensing around Oscar's face.

Oscar lapped at your juices, slurping all he could while he explored every crevice of your folds. His head jutted against your legs, nose sloppily knocking against your throbbing clit.

Your hands flew to his brown locks, tugging at the sheer pleasure running through your body right now. Any tension or worries you had about suffocating Oscar had melted away, hips already leaning in to put as much of your weight on his face as one could humanely allow, rocking your hips to get even more friction.

His tongue dragged up your folds, finding your swollen bundle of nerves as he came up for air. Oscar just couldn't help it. The urge to get a taste of you shuddering against him was overwhelming. But as he sucked your clit gently, his brown eyes of his flickered up to your face and what a sight it was.

You had completely lost yourself.

Eyes clamped shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, sweat littering the surface of your skin, nipples hard against your shirt... fuck. If he knew you would feel and look this good, he would've made you ride his face ages ago.

Despite losing your senses, your body still was restraining from putting your full weight on him. Oscar could feel it as you tried to lift yourself in the attempt of self-control, making him chase for your pussy. But the rise of your hips came one too many times and Oscar had enough, fingers tightening around your thighs with an ironclad grip, holding you close to him.

You squirmed against his hold. All those chocolates... you had both eaten them because you were hungry. But Oscar had only become more starved and thirsty as he drank you as though he was dehydrated. You were so wet that his tongue was practically swimming between each fold.

Hips rutting against his face, your head fell back as his lips moved back to your clit, suctioning the bundle of nerves while stars began to invade your vision. You had barely said anything, so lost in the pleasure, forgetting to praise his art. It was like your brain was so dazed that it wouldn't sync up to your mouth, only allowing for your whimpers and moans to join the lewd slurping of Oscar's.

You couldn't care anymore. The stars were so close... you let your full weight rest on Oscar, making him grin against your heated cunt. Your grip on his hair tightened, the coil in your stomach snapping as his movements became sloppy, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Your body is trembling against his face, convulsing around his tongue while the only thing you can manage to let out is a series of broken moans and obscenities under your breath.

Oscar feels you fall limp, muscles tired from tensing and exerting more energy than usual. He slowly lifted you off of him, shifting you next to him as both of your chests heaved with deep breaths. His head fell against the pillow. "I could do that till I die."

You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth, nestling into the pillow. You let out a soft laugh but it slowly died down once the seriousness of Oscar's tone finally registered. Your eyes travelled down his cock, standing angrier than ever, leaking with pre-cum. From what you were seeing, Oscar must've been in pain.

You shifted closer to Oscar, sweaty skin sticking to his own. You peeled off your shirt, sighing at the cold air skimming your breasts. Without a second thought, Oscar's hands were on them, groping and fondling them. Back arching, you fell closer to his touch, pushing yourself into him.

He was distracting you.

"Oscar," You whimpered at the squeeze of your nipple in response. "Fuck me."

Oscar's hands paused, eyes flickering to you. His breathing had gotten quiet all of a sudden while his eyes darkened. "How?" He asked. "H-How do you want me to fuck you?" His voice cracked slightly with the heavy strain of lust–well, partly the aphrodisiacs-weighing it down.

You pulled yourself away from him, sprawling yourself comfortably on the bed. "However you want."

"Fuck," Oscar groaned, eyes closing at your words before pushing himself up to remove his shirt. He moved to hover his body over you. His hooded eyes flickered over you, full with admiration. You looked like a hot mess. His mess... that he made. You were going to kill him.

His brain must of been short circuiting, however. He blinked blankly at you. "Shit, I don't have a–"

You interrupted him by reaching under your pillow, dangling the foil-wrapped packet in his face. Oscar slowly took what he was looking for from your hands, eyeing you with furrowed brows. "You just keep condoms under your pillow now?"

The sudden comment made you break into laughter, making Oscar's struggling to keep his heart at bay. You nodded your head, quietening down. "Yes, specifically for this occasion."

"When a friend gives me sex chocolates?" Oscar raised a brow, voice full of ridicule.

"Yep! Precisely."

Oscar rolled his eyes, shaking his head. You were bad at joking but to him, you were the world's best comedian. He tore the wrapping, hissing at the sudden contact as he rolled the condom onto his shaft. He blew a deep breath from his lips, sweat-ridden hair doing little to move out of his face.

His eyes fell to your still swollen pussy... so enticing... "I don't think I'll last long," Oscar admitted with a grave mumble, a flush of red scattering across his neck.

You smiled softly. "It's okay. You already gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life... you can fuck me till you can't cum anymore."

Oscar's cock twitched against his stomach. He sure liked the sound of that.

His hands darted out to roam your body, embracing the feel of every curve or bump he could get his hands on. He heard your sharp inhale as his fingers danced around your v-line. Me too, he thought to himself.

Oscar couldn't take it anymore. He was practically blue-balling himself at this point. He lowered himself over you, feeling your hot breath envelope him. His cock slowly pressed against your folds, making both of you pause at the warm feeling tingling up your spines. "Shit," he groaned, watching your engorged folds try to grip any bit of his cock. "You're seriously going to kill me."

"A girl's gotta try," You teased, breaking into a small whimper as Oscar dragged the tip of his throbbing cock to your hole, skimming your clit along the way.

Your mouth fell open upon feeling Oscar pushing his hips into you. His cock entered your warm folds, stretching the tight walls of your soaked cunt. Your head lolled back into the softness of the pillows while a high-pitched whimper slipped past your lips.

Oscar grunted as he fully unsheathed his cock, bottoming out as much as he could. The feel of your pussy clenching around him with a vice-like grip was sending over him already. He could feel every part of you, hips flushed with yours while the tip of his cock nudged your cervix.

He began with shallow thrusts, rocking his hips against yours. "Fuck, you feel so good, baby," Oscar swore, eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

You moaned in response, savouring every inch of his cock that came in and out of you. "You fill up so well," You praised, hand travelling to his own to give him an affirming squeeze.

Oscar missed your lips. It felt like he hadn't touched them in a long time even though he had probably spent over half the morning with them today. Sloppily, his lips travelled across your jaw and met your soft pillowy ones. He could hear your muffled moans in the kiss as he rutted into you. Shit...

"Oscar," You whispered with a high mewl upon feeling his fingers roll your nipple in between them. You were going to kill him? More like he was going to kill you.

But you weren't lying. His cock was indeed filling you so well, having you clench around him like there was no tomorrow. You felt so... full... those fucking chocolates...

Speaking of which... Oscar was over these 'aphrodisiac chocolates' or whatever the hell they were. They were making him insane. Every moment he ever spent with you, whether it was on a date or in bed, he always felt like he was being driven insane (in the nicest possible way, of course). But these chocolates... it felt like he was aware of everything. Every reaction... every part of him was on fire... everything was amplified... ten-fold, no, a hundred.

You were both on the crest of your climaxes. Oscar could tell by the way you were gripping him, the sudden reduction of your words, and the dazed look in your eyes. And you could tell by the stutter of his hips and the twitch of his cock.

Oscar bent his head down towards your legs, spitting directly onto your bundle of nerves. Fuck, now your hips were stuttering as well, the familiar feeling of the coil in your lower abdomen unravelling. "Oscar, fuck, I'm going to–"

Oscar doesn't even have the decency to let you finish your sentence, hand rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, hips increasing it's pace, sending you flying into your second orgasm.

"Oh, shit, shit, that's it, baby," Oscar encouraged, fighting to keep his eyes open as the waves of pleasure began drowning him. You were just squeezing his cock so much. Your mouth is wide open as Oscar's hips faltered against yours. He rushed to take his cock out, hand jerking off the engorged shaft to spill every single drop of his hot white cum onto your stomach.

For a moment, it felt like the effects of the chocolates had worn off as Oscar collapsed on top of you without a single thought going through his mind. His chest heavily rose up and down, your chin nuzzling into his collarbone while he soothingly patted your head.

You both laid like that for over ten minutes, saying nothing, just revelling in each other's presence, naked.

"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," You joked, finally regaining your words.

"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.

"Oh..."

𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[chaostudee]

you belong with me, lando norris.

summary : after another failed date you rely on lando to comfort you to which he confesses something to you. warnings : none a/n : literally all i've been doing is smau but written works will forever have my heart :)

a sigh escaped you lips just as your eyes flicked to your phone to take a glimpse at the time. the past two hours had been torture, and although you hadn't had much faith that this one would get well you hadn't pictured it to be this grim. this man wouldn't shut up about himself, not once letting you get a word in edge ways.

a few minutes ago he said that he needed to pop to the bathroom just as you had both finished dessert. partially you were glad to be rid of him but were now suspicious that he had been gone for so long. in instinct your eyes flutter around the restaurant at the various couples and families dining. in doing so you spot your blind date darting hie eyes around the restuarant briefly before fleeing out the front door.

your eyes widen at the scene and you tutt to yourself. so typical. at that moment the waiter walks over to hand you the check.

"um can you give me a second?" you ask knwoing damn well your purse is full of nothing but makeup products.

"sure" the waiter replies with a nod before departing.

you quickly scour your purse for your phone and dial the one person you know that would be able to help you out.

"hey what's up??"

the sound of his voice makes you smile.

"well um i need your help...."

lando pauses. "that doesn't sound good...."

you laugh sarcastically. "yeah well it's not um so basically just before the check came the guy just upped and left and um since he said he was going to pay i left my purse at home. so i guess what i'm asking is for some money and i promise i'll pay you-"

"wait wait wait" lando cuts you off "he just left you?! what the actual fuck?!"

"i know i mean i should've known"

"what no no baby it's not your fault, here i'll send you the money real quick"

your stomach flips at the pet name, it always does but you would never admit that to him.

"thank you lando" you whisper.

"no problem angel, you know i'll always look out for you.

"okay um one last favour"

"hit me"

"can you pick me up it's kinda late and you know"

"ofc i will just send me your location"

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

lando hands you a cup of tea just as he joins you on the couch.

"thanks" you look up at him as you speak and he replies with a nod before taking a sip of his coffee.

lando shakes his head. " i actually still can't believe that son of a bitch did that to you"

you look down into the cup, the steam rising and hitting your cheeks. "i mean i guess i always choose the wrong ones"

"don't you dare say that sweetheart it is not your fault at all".

"lando-"

"no i'm serious ever time you come back from a date you tell me another crazy story and sweetheart it's nothing got to do with you"

"but what if it is me"

lando looks at you smypathetically.

"trust me it's not you, anyone would be lucky to have you"

"thanks lando but we both know that's not true"

lando sets down his cup and runs his hands through his hair. before putting his head in his hands and letting out a groan.

"what's wrong?"

"you are so oblivious"

"what wdym?"

lando smiles and begins to move closer to you. you watch as his eyes latch onto yours and then down to your lips. your heart begins to beat rapidly.

"as i said anyone would be lucky to have you"

you gulp. lando takes his hand and uses it to rest under your chin so you are forced to look at him.

"you are the most important person in my life"

"lando don't"

"don't what?"

"you're just saying that to make me feel better"

lando chuckles. "trust me i'm not you are and will forever be the most important person in my life, you're my best friend."

you smile shyly at him, there was no one that made you feel as loved as him.

"there were times i wanted it to be more".

your eyes widen at his confession and you open your mouth but just as you were about to speak you were stopped.

lando pulled his you into him placing his lips on yours. you didn't pull back but instead sunk deep into the kiss and as his smiled into your lips you couldn't help the heat that rised to your cheeks.

after a few moments you pull back and smile at him as you run a hand through his hair.

"was that okay?" he asks unsure if he had made you uncomfortable.

"more than okay" you admit.

and with that he pulled you in to his lap making you squeal before pressing his lips against yours once again.

in that moment you had never been happier and annoyed with yourself that you hadn't noticed the good in front of you all this time.

taglist ⭑.ᐟ

@lottalove4evelyn

@llando4norris

@hadidsworld

@mxryxmfooty

[room-surprise]

New Ryoko Kui Interview from Anime Expo 2024 (Summary/Commentary)

This interview is unintentionally hilarious. It's much shorter than the other interview, and every question was met with either a polite non-answer or a flat-out "No." Kui embodied this elf lady she drew for the entire thing:

Kui really wasn't having any of it. Every time the interviewer tried to ask a leading question about things the fandom thinks are extremely central to the manga, Kui basically answered no/I don't care/You're overthinking it/I wasn't suggesting what you're assuming I was suggesting.

My summary/commentary of the interview under the cut.

Please keep in mind these are my opinions, based on my knowledge of Japanese social conventions, and how I personally read the interview!

Q: Dungeon Meshi is about the power of eating in groups/family, do you have any food memories or recipes you can share with us that are important to you? A: No. (In other interviews Kui has stated that she doesn't like eating, other people seeing her eat, or watching others eat, and that she used to eat her meals in the toilet to avoid being around other people during meals. This is a common thing people who are shy, bullied, or socially avoidant do in Japan.)

Q: What meal in DM do you want to eat? A: None of them, I'm a picky eater.

Q: You obviously love TTRPGs. A: Uh...Not really... I've never played one, I just read about them for research purposes. (In other interviews Kui has stated she's never played a TTRPG because she doesn't have friends she can do it with. The fact that so many people in the world do have that many friends they are that close to was very shocking to her. She was amazed that people would actually role-play in front of other people. This, plus other things Kui has said in the past ("I'm not good at human relationships"), suggests that she's not very socially active.)

Q: Your fantasy ecosystem is so complex, how did you build it? A: I though about it, and then I used my imagination. (This is kind of an ice-cold burn. Like a writer saying "I wrote one word, and then another, and then I kept adding words until the book was done.")

Q: Do you love monsters as much as Laios? A: No. But I do like them a lot, and I've loved them since I was a kid.

Q: How'd you design Laios' ultimate monster? A: I used the childhood memory of wanting to design the coolest, strongest monster.

Q: A lot of fans think Laios is autistic, especially because of his fight with Toshiro. A: I wrote him to be a normal guy that anyone can relate to. I don't think he's special or unusual. Both he and Toshiro have problems and they both need to work on communicating better. (Kui saying she didn't write Laios as autistic doesn't mean you should shit on other fans who read him as autistic. All it means is that he's not canonically autistic, and you can't say "Laios being autistic is the foundation of the entire manga." Kui saying that she didn't intentionally write Laios as autistic doesn't invalidate the interpretation, it just means saying Laios is autistic is an interpretation, and not a concrete fact. Also worth noting that labeling Laios as autistic might come across as very rude for a Japanese person. Kui may not want to call Laios autistic due to social stigma.)

Q: Tell us about the Senshi fanservice. A: Calling it "fanservice" feels wrong to me. He's just an older man who doesn't care if people see his underwear, something I've experienced in real life. It might make some people uncomfortable but Senshi's just living his life, I thought that was funny. Laios is a bit uncomfortable seeing people in their underwear. (Holy shit. This answer is the equivalent of Kui firing a shotgun directly in the interviewer's face and screaming "it's not fucking fanservice." She's being VERY direct for a Japanese person, and implying that she doesn't like people calling the Senshi pantyshots fanservice, that she sees them as comedy.)

Q: But Senshi's handsome isn't he? A: All dwarves are handsome :) (This is a complete non-answer, and after that previous answer, it's very likely Kui is trying to brush the interviewer off. This is most likely Kui saying "Please stop this line of questioning/I don't want to talk about this anymore.")

Q: What inspired Marcille's dungeon lord dress? Her friends all make fun of her but I thought it looked nice. A: There's no specific reference. I made it up to look like her mom's dress and added a childish head covering. The dress is totally normal, her friends making fun of Marcille is a joke. They're just not used to seeing Marcille in that kind of clothing, so it seems weird to them. They don't actually think the dress is that strange or uncool.

Q: Did you expect the strong fan reaction to Marcille and Falin's relationship? A: I don't think about how the fans will react when I'm writing. (Another complete non-answer. She doesn't want to discuss the topic of Farcille and avoids it like a landmine. Honestly, good for her. She wants fans to feel free to think what they want and have their own interpretations.)

Q: Will you write a spin-off about Izutsumi getting revenge on the person who made her? A: Maybe, maybe not. Probably not. I think Izutsumi's pretty happy as she is and just wants to live her life.

In short, Kui's reaction to a lot of the fandom opinion questions was:

EDIT: Also, looking at the headline/page summary for the article, it's uh...insanely misleading.

"We sat down with Kui-sensei at Anime Expo 2024 to discuss the community of food, why Senshi is so sexy, seeing neurodivergence in Laios, and more." Kui literally said no in response to all of those questions, this summary of their own interview implies that there was anything discussed, and not just Kui telling them "no" to each question.