#My sense of everything has been fucked tonight

[pmbueckers]

— for evermore

chapter one ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift

pairing – paige bueckers x fem oc!dorothea greene

summary – they’ve been at it since highschool, this back and forth, but what happens if and when paige and thea finally realize this hometown situationship might be worth something more?

word count – 3.7k

warnings – idgaf abt punctuation, language

links – masterlist , series masterlist

authors note – find all the information abt this fic with the link above! tried my very best to line it up with the ttds lyrics but giving it my own twist/meaning. it makes sense to me but thats coming from a chronic swiftie so idk if its gonna be confusing for others or not.. pls lmk but be nice lol

dorothea greene pov, december 2023

if i wanted to know who you were hanging with while i was gone i would have asked you 

its been three years since we graduated and no matter how much i told myself the throwing of our caps in the air was it, the symbolic end, i knew myself better than that. i knew her better. i knew us better. because you never truly escape paige bueckers. shes like vines, and once youre in, youre in. bringing us to now. im going home tonight, to celebrate the holidays with my family and hometown friends, but the odds that i dont see her are slim to none. and shes all i can think about as im trying to pack. everything im throwing in my bag, a reminder of her. the shoes she got me for my birthday years ago, my favorite t shirt to sleep in that may or may not be hers. even what im wearing to the goddamn airport, a sweatsuit i bought at the mall of america with her, and a necklace she gave to me before we graduated that i cant muster the strength to give up. i know i dont mean anything to her anymore, honestly i dont know if i even meant that much to her back then, but i cant help but be conflicted myself, why is it the whole year im fine, “cured” of paige bueckers, but the second it hits december and i know snow is falling back home, i need to be back in hopkins wrapped up in her arms? she probably has someone else by now. no, she definitely has someone else by now. ugh this shouldnt be so hard. okay. just go home, dont get drawn back in. easy right?

im loading all my things into my car, this car, damn we did it in her car too didnt we? see, what did i say? constant. reminders.

its the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass but i felt it when i passed you 

fuck, “snap out of it” i murmur to myself over and over while loading my bags. its not too many bags so im just piling them into my passenger seat as im paying to keep my car parked at the airport while im gone. i head back up to my apartment to lock it up then im pulling out of my places parking ramp and am on the freeway to the airport, a peaceful car ride, that is till i get a notification that makes my heart jump and car nearly swerve off the road. and i know its abt to begin, im abt to fall back in, but i cant help it.

paige bueckers

Hey

Whats your break schedule

read 6:21 pm

dorothea greene

hi.

ive got the next four weeks of classes off but im only going to be home for abt two.

deciding to only stay home for about two weeks to minimize the amount of damage i can do involving her, but i keep that part out.

Cool

When’s your flight?

in two hours actually

im on the road rn

Don’t crash pls

I prefer you alive

i roll my eyes and let out a little snicker, thankful she cant hear, but typical paige having to sneak at least something in. im glancing up and down from my phone to the road, dont text and drive is repeating in my head in my moms voice, but its paige. the exact reason why im afraid to go home.

funny

Its the truth

So your landing in 6 hrs then?

At 12?

nice math

Alr alr chill 😂

How you getting home from the airport its gonna be late

Prolly like 1 am

yeah ik

thats what ubers are for paige

Nah uh no way

What if its a creep

I’ll come get you

no

i cant ask u to do that

u wont get home till like two

(a lie, im overestimating, but i really wasnt intenting on seeing paige this early on my tip back home.)

U aint askin im offering

Plus I want to

hm yeah right why is that paige

Aint it obvious comon

I miss you Thea.

read 6:43

theres an ache in you put there by the ache in me but if its all the same to you its the same to me 

and just like that, those three words, eight letters. that i so wish were three different ones, eight different letters, that im sure shes said to someone else, someone new in connecticut, but i cant bother to care about right now because at least i got something, something to show that maybe she still cares a little bit. a little bit about me. and i dont know if this is a mistake, even though i think i do. i know i do. even though i just told myself a couple of hours ago i wasnt going to do this. but hell, going from trying to not see her at all to her being the first person i see is almost comical. 

okay.

im going to be in terminal one

gate G20.

Damn was kinda hopin for a diff kinda rsp

Guess that’ll do…

you’re so pushy omg

i miss you too p.

That’s more like it 😊

i hate you sm

Nah

You dont.

read 6:49

paige is right, which she knows, and i hate that. that i dont hate her, i never could, and i dont think i ever will. that is what hurts the most. no matter how much i have to remind myself of the routine and how much this will never go anywhere, how her words are empty, only sounding full and meaningful for the week or two we are in the same city, i dont know how to stop. bc its her. its paige. my paige.

the rest of my travel night goes by in a blur, i paid for my car to be parked in the garage, i checked my bags, went through security, waited at the gate, and am now on the plane where i would normally get a nice four hour nap in so the ride would go by quicker, i dont, because i dont know if im prepared to land, to see whos waiting for me once this plane lands in minnesota. but just like that it does, it lands.

thankfully im seated near the back of the aircraft so i have a little bit more time wasting im able to do, i find myself walking to baggage claim extremely slow its almost comical, praying my bag isnt one of the first ones out, but of course it is. curse you universe. im plotting on how im gonna look lost outside, how i purposefully cant find her car like i have no idea what it looks like, like i dont have her licscene plate number memorized. like we havent done unspeakable shit in that car, unable to wait a ten minute drive home from a random bar. that is until i look up from my phone, suspicious because she hasnt texted me about her whereabouts outside yet, and i spot a little ways down the strip of the airport, a strikingly bright blonde head of hair that i would recognize anywhere. my pace, unbeknownst to me, picks up, and as i get closer i can make out that shes holding up a sign. not huge and flashy, but modest, smaller, she begins to walk towards me as well with what i can make out so far as the biggest grin on her face i have ever seen. that im sure my own face is reflecting. the closer she gets the more clear her sign becomes, that reads, ‘welcome home thea’ as she flips it to back that says ‘ive missed you most’. at this point ive completely ditched my bags and have just jumped in her arms, a giggling mess. god im a child. my arms are wrapped around her neck, hers around my waist, lifting me up off the floor slightly, breathing into my neck, a couple of hours ago i said i wasnt going to get drawn back in, now im in the middle of the airport looking like a lovesick idiot. 

so we could call it even you could call me babe for the weekend 'tis the damn season 

“hi baby” she mumbled against my skin and heart just about burst. i missed her so much. i pull back to look at her face, i just want to look at her face, i could forever. with my hands cupping her face. her rosy cheeks from being outside in the minnesota weather all cold, trying to warm her up. and as shes setting me down shes wiping hair out of my face, off of my forehead, looking deep into my eyes with her ocean blue ones, “god i missed you.” she whispered, quiet enough to be heard by just us, like a secret she didnt want anyone around us to hear in fear of it breaking. “so ive heard” i say back to her, moving my face closer to hers, with a smug but playful grin on my lips. and my arms are right back around her neck as im saying into her ear “i missed you too p.” scattering small kisses across the side of her head. on her ear, hairline, neck, temple. i know better. but at this point, theres no going back. and its not on her lips, so what damage is it really doing? i back away and intertwine my hand with hers while looking into her eyes, “lets go home, k?” i say while nodding my head in encouragement, “okay” she mumbles, while squeezing my hand, and grabbing my bags for me off of the floor. shes perfect, for these next two weeks shes going to be perfect. 

write this down, im stayin at my parents house and the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you in my hometown 

im in her passenger seat, like ive been in drastically different situations many times before, as we’ve finally made it out of the god awful airport pickup zone. ive been day dreaming out this window for who knows how long about her of course. because when im with her as happy as it makes me, it only confuses me more. and it drives me insane. thats when i feel her right hand creep up on my thigh from the drivers side in soothing circles, “thea? hey did you hear what i said?” my eyes jerk down to her hand and then towards her eyes. “sorry p, whats up?” because i genuinely did miss her question, but theres some look etched on her face one i havent seen before, and it makes me take a big gulp of water thats been sitting in her car for possibly ages, as im all of a sudden afraid of what shes gonna say. her hand continues to rub soothing circles on my thigh while her eyes i swear are staring into the deepest parts of my soul, i should be worried considering shes currently driving on the highway but i cant seem to care, the way she looks at me makes me feel like im the only person in the world. “hey are you okay?” she says sincerely, “what?” i say almost too loudly, “sorry, yeah no im good p”, safe to say that wasnt what i was expecting her to ask. i dont know what i was, but it wasnt that. not something that made her seem like she cares deeper than the surface level. actually able to tell when somethings going on with me. whatever, its probably nothing. “alright thea,” as her goddamn hand is almost territorially sitting on my thigh now, like shes trying to protect me from the heat coming out of the ac in the car, “you never told me where im takin you.” she states, looking at me with her cute but smuggish at the same time grin. “yeah right, sorry, uh im staying with my parents. i’ll send you the address.” i ramble, trying to get this car ride to go by quicker. i swear shes driving slower on purpose. just to see me squirm. i see out of the corner of my eye as im going to send her the address her hand coming up to my phone, shes setting my hands down in my lap, and then turning my chin to face her, “thea. enough with the sorries. and i know were your parents live baby you dont need to send me the address.” she lets out a chuckle, but not one making fun, a light hearted one, as her hand moves to find mine and intertwines our fingers in my lap. but i know paige better than anyone, before we were whatever this is, we were friends, bestfriends. so of course she lets no teasing opportunity pass her by. “damn,” she says, looking down at my phone, that has our messages open, “my full legal name as the contact name is lethal” she says, looking up at me with a smirk, i shove her shoulder trying not to give her the satisfaction of a laugh and am then playing with the rings on her fingers. “alright p i would like a better suggestion. your name as your name in my phone makes complete sense to me. now i dont even wanna know what you got me as in yours,” i say with a chuckle, but also leaving it on a hint, i do wanna know. its probably nothing special, but paige is right, anything other than my full name would be special. “oh really?” shes looking at me with that smirk, god it kills me. shes pulled out her phone and opened it up to my contact, 'thea 💚'. it really seems like nothing special to the blind eye, but it is to me. not even my full first name, my nickname, with a heart that just about makes my own heart burst. and not just any heart, one of my favorite color, that ironically is the same as my last name. no words are exchanged just two pairs of eyes looking deeply into one another, faces with the biggest grins on them, while the rest of the car ride was silent. the center console of her car jabbing into the left side of my rib cage so my head was able to lean on her shoulder with her hand in my lap the whole way home. our hearts beating almost too romantically in sync the whole way to my parents house.

paige, despite what i knew she wanted to do, dropped me off at home. she pulled into my parents driveway with her headlights off, sure to not wake them, and though the door wasnt even twenty feet away, “im still walking you to it” she insisted, while grabbing my bags from the backseat. i unlocked the door, placed my bags inside and turned to the tall blonde, looking up into her icy blue eyes. “thank you for getting me p. and bringing me home,” i whispered the last part as i reach up to place my arms around her neck, as her arms find their familar home around my waist. i couldnt tell you how long we stood there for, swaying lightly, not wanting to let one another go, with my front door wide open letting all the cold minnesota air in but i finally pulled away looking into her eyes, mumbling “but i cant let you in. i want to, but i cant, p.” paige sighs, looking down at our feet, then back at me, “i know baby, its okay.” she spoke while wiping baby hairs away from my face and once again scooping me up in a hug. her breath warm agaisnt the left crevice where my neck and shoulder meet. i want to let her in so bad, but i cant because i know myself. i know her. i know us. and she knows it too. one thing will lead to another. and i need to try to hold out for as long as possible, as much as its killing me. as paige pulls away she leaves a kiss on my cheek and mumbles, “i’ll see you soon. get some sleep okay?” looking at me with questioning eyes and a raised eyebrow. god shes so cute. “okay.” i breathe out, reaching down to grab both of her hands. till she starts to back away, i find myself trying to hold onto the tips of her fingers for as long as possible as shes whispering goodbye and just like that her car is backing out of the driveway, and im standing under the porch light. alone. i know this scene all too well. we arent in highschool anymore, i have to remind myself, so i turn around and head inside before i overthink, again.

i parkеd my car right between the methodist and thе school that used to be ours

with playlists blasting in my ears, im unpacking my bags in my childhood room, tidying it up because my mom has turned it into her own personal closet while ive been gone, finding little knickknacks that meant everything to me as a kid. i stumble upon a hopkins basketball sweatshirt on my closet floor, i wonder who that belongs to? a cross on my wall from our communities church event. from the same church i went to every sunday that i would always find myself sitting next to paige at. and cleaning my bathroom i so luckily have attached to my bedroom, putting away my toiletries, opening a drawer that still has some of her things in it from when she would stay over almost every night, as im about to get in the shower before i finally try and get some sleep. thats when my music pauses to signify a ding of a notification. its paige. of course.

paige bueckers

U up?

read 2:13 am

thea 💚

nope

Alr 1 ur mean 2 I thought I told u to sleep

one you love me

two shouldnt u not be textin me then?

Damn u right on both tbh

But nah yk I cant leave u alone

read 2:17am

overthinking is my speciality, but am i doing that right now? because in all of our years of even just being friends we expressed our gratitude for one another, but since we’ve been whatever the fuck this is, flirt, hookup, ghost, paige has never even said the words “i like you” to me. we both know we care so deeply for one another, possibly more, but its complicated, our lives never worked out together that way, never overlapped, so we accepted the mutual heartbreak but kept pushing forward with this toxic cycle anyways because neither of us could bare not having the other in our life anymore. did she just admit that she loves me? nah. no fucking way. we say shit in playful tones like that all time. oh you love me this you love me that. but shes never admitted it back, not like that. what is going on. god its late, get out of your head thea. play it cool.

yeah ur lowkey annoying

highkey actually

Alr get out

U love me back dw ik

mm debatable 

Ouch

Wyd tmr

i dont know actually

my parents arent awake to make any plans with lol

Oh so I get u first

ok who said that??

You basically 😊

paige madison omg

Hey that reminds me

You change that contact name yet??

that rlly buggin you huh

Maybe

then i might just keep it

Thea istg

alr alr chill i will change it 😂

dorothea greene changed paige bueckers contact to 'paige 💜'

And I will pick u up at noon?

where tf did i agree to that?

Would you rather meet somewhere?

i dont see where i agreed to do anything with you

I want to see you

paige.

you just saw me not even an hour ago

I miss you

you cant possibly

How do you know that

You dont know I feel

I miss you

I miss you

okay will you shut up if i say yes

Um only if nice Thea shows up

okay sorry p 😂😂

Never be sorry

Sooooo I will pick you up tomorrow at noon?

you will pick me up tomorrow at noon.

Goodnight baby sleep well

Actually sleep please

read 2:35

that damn petname, nickname, wtv it is it fucking kills me and she probably has no idea. no she definitely knows and thats why she uses it. thank god she cant see my face right now because its full blown red, completely embarrassed post screaming my lungs out into my pillow.

i will

goodnight p

see u tmr.

i just snickered to myself after sending paige those last texts. almost shameful of myself. i dont know what im doing. or maybe i do? i think its safe to say my winter break is gonna go different than i planned, but the same way as it always was. whenever i dare to mix myself with paige bueckers and my hometown.

the next chapter will be finishing out the lyrics of ttds (in blue) which will be linked in the masterlist once finished! - im gonna try and make this into a full blown series incorporating other songs from the album 'evermore' going back in time as well to give some background information on their relationship, etc. we'll see how it goes...

reminder: my box is open for all requests ⋆˙⟡

[garbage--account]

So apparently, in season 2, Fubuki wasn't a teenager but a middle aged man 🧓:

[wewontbesleeping]

i bleached my hair the week of joever (not because of joever... but it didn't help...) and i dyed my hair back to brown a month before eras is ending. idk what that means but it's kind of interesting.

[exopelagic]

i can’t believe i managed to get fucking mono and didn’t even get it by doing anything fun

[blkkizzat]

❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 3

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (IN STOCK!!!)

⋙ product description (summary): choso's finally had enough and if you won't listen to reason he will fuck it into you. but will you still choose him in the end or will he make that choice for you? ⋙ side effects (tw): THE LONG AWAITED BRAT TAMING! rough sex. throat goat!reader. more angst. spanking ass/puss. teasing. edging. lots of delayed pleasure. jealousy. cunnalingus. mirror sex. dom!choso. breeding kink. dirty talk. backshots. fingering. squirting. daddy kink. thigh riding. nuru/thigh fucking. intoxicated reader. drug use (weed). slight voyeurism. yandere choso. baby trapping. mentions of violence (not towards reader). mentions of somnophilia and a lil bit of fluff. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 9.6k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. the long awaited end! i hope you guys like it. i really worked hard on this to make it good <3 special shout outs to my betas @littlemochabunni for literally always talking me off the ledge when i want to ctrl + a+ del everything and @buttercupblu for all the grammar edits my adhd brain struggles with and inspiring me to write the last scene.

Plug!Choso who ultimately will forgive you but it will be on his terms. He just needed to show you first why the only person you should worry about pleasing was him.

Menacing chuckles rumble deep from Choso’s chest, bewildering you in your crossfaded state. Seizing you with a firm hold, he forces you to meet his gaze. Choso holds you so tightly against him that your feet barely touch the ground.

Any attempts of wriggling out of his hold are in vain.

“You’re such a fucking slut.”

His matter-of-fact statement makes you frown. You’re taken aback by the twisted amusement on his face.

“You don’t love me… You love my cock.”

“N-No I—”

Your already short skirt now bunches above your hips and Choso brings a heavy hand down onto your exposed bottom. The sting brings fresh tears to your eyes as the gems on your fishnets leave distinct impressions on your soft, malleable skin.

“You’ll have to learn to be quiet while daddy’s talking, princess.”

If you were going to act like a childish brat, Choso would treat you like one.

Another harsh spank startles you into hiccups as you sniff away fallen tears. 

You’d never been spanked before—not by previous lovers or boyfriends—hell not even your parents growing up. 

The last person you’d expect it from was Choso.

And yet each swift lick Choso deals you is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. 

Who knew you would be such a glutton for punishment? 

You fidget, biting your lip in anticipation of another. 

“Been thinkin’ princess—I’ve been too good to you. But you don’t want that, eh?”

A third smack has you whimpering. Your pelvic muscles clench hard, releasing more of the desperation that had already saturated your thighs.

“You want one of those assholes outside, is that right? They’re good enough for you, huh princess?”

You can only mewl in response from the delightful pain that pierces your senses as he delivers another and another.

“S’why every time I fuckin’ come round y’er being a lil’cocktease for some preppy ass frat fuck.”

Choso wasn’t wrong. 

You knew what those boys wanted from you.

Even though you had never really entertained any of them. That was the allure in itself—to be something unattainable. 

Yet more selfishly, you liked the attention. Not like you’d even got the same thrill from it anymore since you were with Choso—but old habits die hard.

Choso was making damn sure of that now.

“Tryna get one of them to fuck you tonight—”

Choso’s cock twitches in sync with your trembles from every spank.

“—or were you hoping I was finally gonna put that pretty princess pussy of yours in her place?” 

You’re smart enough to know Choso’s question is rhetorical and how could it not be given all your actions tonight? 

It was clear you wanted him and his deliciously fat cock back—badly. 

Your tongue cautiously peeks out as you try to quiet your shuddering breaths, afraid that any small movement might provoke his anger. At this point you know better than to beg too, almost certain that any attempts would only fuel the unexpected mean streak Choso had developed.

Yet despite any initial apprehension you were quickly becoming puddy in his hands.

“Poor baby, working so hard having to appease everyone—” 

SMACK!

“—well you ain’t gotta worry that bratty head of yours no more—seeing as you won’t be doing none of that shit from now on.” 

His threats which should have you cussing him out only make you wetter as your heart pounds in your ears from the thrill of being dominated. You’d do anything right now to get a little relief for your aching cunt that had gone a whole goddamn month without Choso’s thick cock plugging her up. 

Restless in arousal, your entire being just begs to be fucked. 

Releasing your hair Choso parts your legs with his knee and you collapse onto him, your plump pussy colliding with his thigh. You whimper, tightly gripping his broad shoulders for leverage to rock yourself against his thigh. 

Choso could feel the intensity of the moist heat radiating from your core dampening his jeans.

“Shit, I can feel you dripping… pussy drooling just from getting that ass spanked a lil’—are you a masochist, princess?”

Choso breathes the question into your ear, his words bringing a chill over your skin fanning goosebumps all the way down to the nape of your neck.

You’re losing yourself all the more in the hypnotic state of lust swirling from alcohol, weed, pain and arousal clashing within you. 

You nearly choke on the deep guttural moans that had been held in by his hand still around your throat when he grabs your hips forcibly rocking you harder against him. Your paper-thin thong does nothing to protect you  from the rough threadbare material of his jeans grinding against your sensitive lil nub. 

“Wearing these slutty tights with an ass like yours…” 

You almost forget to breathe, the sting this time accompanied by him sliding his fingers between the gaps in the material and grabbing the fat of your ass for emphasis.

“...coulda got me in so much shit tonight if I made ol’boy who was touchin’ up on you swallow teeth.”

The baritone in his voice lowers to a deadly note, tuning every nerve in your body to the exact pitch of his voice.

“P-Please C-Cho I—”

—in an instant the hand on your hip coils around your neck. 

Thumbing your collarbone, Choso slowly applies just enough pressure to activate the euphoric sensation of suffocation, sending tingles down your spine.

“Look at me princess, you better stay quiet—m’not gonna say it again.”

You choke back a cry as the elastic on your fishnets snaps against your tender skin when Choso removes his hand from them.

“But then your lil’card got pulled when you saw me with that whore, hmm?”

You wince preemptively expecting another hard spanking but Choso loosens his grip around your throat. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

A sniffly frown complements the pitifulness of your runny makeup as you cling to him possessively. 

“Y-Yeah… I-I hated seeing that d-dumb bitch all over you. Wanted to fuck her up.”

Choso is satisfied with your answer but the warmth behind his smile didn’t match the heated glint in his eyes.

“There it is. See? Bratty princesses who are honest get rewarded—”

Any relief you feel is short lived as your despair returns with the words that follow.

“—eventually.”

Plug!Choso who has you so close to release just from rutting against his brawny thigh. Yet just as you feel the hot coil about to snap in your stomach he pulls away from you. 

Wobbling for stability, your panic that he would leave again subsides when he returns to sit on your bed.

Choso leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees to pack another bowl. The process is second nature to him and his hands move with an instinctual precision, allowing his oppressively dark gaze to remain fixed to you.

“Strip.”

It’s a rather simple command but it causes a small malfunction in your brain nonetheless. 

Your intuition is simultaneously screaming at you to be a ‘good girl’ and listen to Choso so he’d finally fuck you—but also to get the hell away from the menacing man before you were actually fucked.

Choso’s shift in his nature was setting off every internal alarm—although at the same time, you couldn’t say this still didn’t feel like Choso.

Was it really new? 

Or was this side just new to you? 

You’d only ever really known the gentle boyish side of Choso. The side who would blush easily and that was so willing to do anything to please you—the side that was a dutiful and loving brother.

But this other side? 

Well, he was a dealer.

You’d never heard of Choso getting caught out or punked in the streets—not even once. 

You also never knew how he conducted his business, as he always stepped out of the car or left the room. When he took a call while you were with him, all you could hear were faint murmurs of conversation over the rumbling bass of music or through a well-insulated door.

You knew he did his best to keep that side away from you and Yuji, as it wasn’t always pretty. 

Instantly you recalled how once when you had slept over he reluctantly left in the middle of the night late saying he had ‘business’ to take care of. When he came home hours later he looked worn down and even more tired than usual. His knuckles were swollen and there was a rip with small dots of blood on his collar which you would have thought was his own if not for there not being a single scratch on him.

He didn’t speak of what happened and you couldn’t fuss over his appearance for too long—your mind being far from inquisitive while blubbering from his cock drilling your body deep into the mattress. You blissfully became a fleshlight of relief for all his frustrations that night until long after sunrise. 

In fact, Choso had dicked you down so thoroughly when you finally made it out of bed that day it was mid-afternoon. You didn’t even question him about the bruises lingering on his knuckles or whose blood he had on him—still in a daze off his cock.

So this must be how he is in the streets. 

“Go on now, princess.”

The deep silky dominance in his tone commanded your attention, jarring you from your thoughts. You’re pouting, but your body, in spite of your more rational mind, wins as it compels you to obey him, convincing you that anything he has planned for you would be well worth the pleasure that follows. 

Slowly, you begin to lift up your tiny pink top when Choso’s eyes narrow in disapproval, stopping you.

“Nuh-uh see—that shit right there won't cut it.”

You’re puzzled. You did exactly as he asked.

“You didn’t think I saw my lil’ slut playing beer pong and teasing those shitheads with my tiddies? Now do it for me—the same fuckin’ way.”

You’re nodding but your delicate hands are nevertheless shaking under his intense smolder.

Swallowing your anxiety and mimicking your earlier actions, you bent towards him. Your chest is lightly heaving by the time your nails begin to slowly drag the hem of the sparkly top down over your breasts. Choso is blatantly palming his cock when you give the final tug that has your tits bouncing forth from their confines, fully exposed to him.

Choso hums in approval, satisfied with your performance. He motions with a finger for you to come to him and you can’t close the distance fast enough to stand between his legs. 

Molding your hips in his large hands, Choso brings you even closer. Parting his lips the smoke tendrils fan over your stomach while his mouth hovers over your skin. 

Choso looks back up at you and your belly dips, quivering at his dangerously seductive eyes and mischievous grin. 

You were nervous—good.

“Knees.”

Plug!Choso who has you shamelessly panting on your knees before him. Not caring for any decorum at this point you’re openly salivating as hearts practically dance in your eyes over his engorged cock throbbing inside his jeans.

Choso releases a whiny hiss when the air hits his swollen glands. His length sways weighted down as an embarrassing amount of pre drips off his reddened shaft, his boxers already soiled. 

In your right state of mind you might have used this to shift back the power dynamics—yet alas, you are far too gone now. The need for him to give you his praise and approval winning out over any inklings of sass or disobedience. 

Your attention is all but zeroed in on how those milky pearls dribbled over his albert piercing and down the thick vein on the underside of his length.

Seeing how your mouth watered just from the sight of his cock, it’s Choso who proves to be the more impatient one as he grips the back of your head with one hand forcing you closer. In his haste, his dick misses your mouth and skids across your cheek, prompting a low growl of curses from Choso. 

Unconcerned with his impatience, you’re still in your own world—and that world in question was currently being filled with the carnal smell of Choso’s scent marking your skin. A long stain of pre smearing across your face mind shuts down now solely driven by your needy cunt.

“I’ll forgive you when you show me how sorry you are—”

“—anything!” 

Quickly snapping out of your dickmatized daze you look up at him with doe eyes, begging for the go-ahead.

“Yeah? Then do it nasty for me, princess.” 

The words have scarcely left Choso’s lips before you’re already parting your own, releasing a viscous well of drool to pour languidly on his dick.

Your saliva mixing with his spilled essence coats his cock and fills the room with vulgar squelches as you obediently pump his hot length. You rotate your grip with a sinful precision while your other hand thumbs his gooch as you’re cupping his balls, kneading them in a manner that had Choso’s toes curling. 

Giving thanks for the meal you are about to consume, you never break eye contact as you deliver pillowy kisses to his tip and strum your tongue under his frenulum. Choso’s abs twitch feverishly when the sultry hollow of your mouth lewdly hums over his piercing. The sounding effect alone is nearly enough to make him bust right then. 

You aren’t holding up well yourself either as your thighs squeeze together soaking your fishnets which had long been sticky with your overflowing arousal. Manifesting that it soon would be the moist suction of your vacant cunt and not of your spit glossed lips that would take him whole as you continue to moan wantonly around his girth.

The memory alone didn’t do your mouth justice to Choso, not that he still didn’t cum plenty from thinking of your lips slobbering around him in the last month.

Fuck if you didn’t always give some crazy ass head though.

However, he knows he has to keep control lest he loses all the progress he made training that lil’ attitude of yours tonight. 

Weaving his muscular hands through your hair, in one swift motion Choso thrusts his hips forward. He groans loudly from your warm gummy throat now stuffed full with his cock. Gargling his girth you choke when Choso’s piercing scrapes the back of your throat as he forcibly bobs your head up and down.

Thick tears burn your vision with your running mascara flowing right down your full cheeks. But it's nothing compared to the fiery burn in your cunt that’s even more jealous than before of your throat getting the treatment it needs so desperately.

“You’re gonna be my good girl from now on? Yeah baby, I know—I know ya are. Now open that throatpussy a lil wider for me, got sum’ for it.”

Heart fluttering at his filthy praises, you easily let him coerce your face flush to his pubic bone to take him to the very hilt. Your nose is buried in his dark pubic hair and his balls slap your chin at every thrust. The harsh treatment has your tears mingling with his fluids to coat your face and stain his jeans. 

This is how you should be. 

Obedient and pretty while your sobs vibrate around his cock destroying your throat. All you had to do was worry about taking care of him—in turn he would take care of you and the rest.

Shit though, going so long without your bratty little mouth around his dick Choso wasn’t about to last too much longer. 

His blunted nails dig into your scalp as he hunches, curling over your body from the sloppy way he plows even deeper into you. 

“You’re gonna take all of it princess. Every last bit, understood?”

Choso takes your unintelligible gurgles and the hands shoving against his thighs as confirmation. A needy grunt is followed by jets of his creamy load spurting down your esophagus.

Teeming with adrenaline, you gasp for air. Your lungs are on fire from sputtering up his tangy spunk that somehow even trickled into your windpipes. Choso’s fluids dribble down your chin, a show of proof from you having milked his cock so thoroughly. 

But you're not angry with him for the rough treatment—on the contrary. 

Once your coughs subside you’re gazing up at Choso like an innocent lamb and not the nasty throat goat you just proved yourself to be. Praying you have been enough of a good girl for him to finally fuck your lil’ cunt as hard as you needed.

Plug!Choso who rewards you with gentle strokes that smooth your hair back and caress your flushed cheeks stained with his spunk.

Keeping true to his promise of every last bit, Choso thumbs the remaining salty fluids soiling your face back into your mouth, dumping the excess onto your tongue that greedily slurps it down.

Satisfied, Choso straightens and beckons you onto his lap with a pat to his thigh. Smirking at your enthusiasm as you clumsily settle in. 

“Now doesn’t it feel nice…being a good girl for once?”

Choso affectionately twirls your hair in his fingers and you bob your head eagerly. 

Your lips are mere centimeters apart.

You want to kiss him but Choso doesn’t feel like you earned that just yet, balling his fist to tug your locks taunt when you lean in.

“Not yet, baby.”

You stick your lip out, fussing in aroused frustration. 

“Tsk—now, now none of that shit, brats don’t get kisses—and they certainly don’t get this dick.”

If the look in his eyes were any indication you knew Choso meant business. The searing eye contact had long incinerated all the walls you’d built to keep him out, exposing the very essence of you laid bare in the ashes. 

You have no more defenses against him, becoming more obedient to his every word.

Seconds pass that seem like achingly brutal hours until he breaks the staredown. His sights now follow his hands as they splay out trailing from your collarbone to your breasts, letting them weigh heavy in his palms.

His lecherous scrutiny has you shivering.

“You let anyone touch these?”

The question startles you as does the sensation of Choso rolling your stiffened peaks between his knuckles before giving them a cruel tug. 

You sniffle as you shake your head ‘no’, trying not to whine and still unable to speak from him pounding your vocal cords raw. 

Choso grins knowingly as his hands fondle your plush mounds, kneading the supple flesh and pushing them together before the steamy cavern of Choso’s mouth consumes both at once. The bar of his pierced tongue swirled between your hardened buds, lapping, slurping and nibbling. Squirming you arch back deeper into his mouth and grind your soaked lil cunny on his rapidly stiffening length. Your hands cling to his pigtails for any semblance of an anchor keeping you from tumbling backwards. 

Spurred on by your shuddering cries Choso withdraws from your swollen peaks with a pop and licks up the string of spit that cobwebs between them. His tongue flattens licking each one dutifully as he watches as your jaw slacks from pleasure.

You’ve been so deprived of his touch. You could cum from just a bit more of this.

Yet Choso’s lips don’t stop traveling your body, even higher this time to adorn your decolletage with searing hickies. 

Uncaring if they actually showed up to brand your skin or not.

Choso only needs you to feel them bruise beneath your flesh.

That way you wouldn’t so soon forget exactly who you belonged to.

“And what about my bratty lil’ pussy, princess? I know how needy she is. You let one of those frat fuckers inside her?”

His hot heady breaths puff out to curl around your earlobe, leaving the severely neglected spot in between your thighs throbbing at her mention. 

You think you might actually die if he ignores your cunt for much longer. 

Your thong is utterly drenched. More arousal trickles onto his lap as his muscular hands settle back on your hips. 

“N-no!”

Sounding more like a croaked plea, your voice is barely above a whisper from the hoarseness that settled in your throat.

“W-Waited f-for you Cho.” 

“Then show me.”

Plug!Choso who has you even more intoxicated off the thought of him giving you a pussy inspection. 

He has nearly succeeded in domesticating you and your arms wrap around him submissively as you moan unabashedly into his neck. 

Choso muses he should have handled your snobby ass like this sooner and saved himself some trouble. 

Lifting you, Choso rises from the bed. 

You haven’t realized you’ve moved at all until you crash into the edge of your vanity, shaking the table with a thud. Rattled, you look back, giving Choso the leverage he needs to spin you around. Dizzy from the sudden movement, your arms fly out—scattering bottles of makeup and perfume as you grasp at the wooden tabletop. 

The items roll on the floor in tandem with Choso rolling his hips up against you. You release a loud mewl from his hard erection teasingly poking into your ass.

Thinking only with your pussy, your impatient pleas are met with another slap to the ass. The increased weight behind his hand this time leaves your nerve endings sizzling. 

You were gonna be such a sweet girl by the time he was done with you.

However, he wouldn’t torture you for too much longer. 

Despite his cold authoritarian demeanor, the image of shoveling his cock deep into your creamy cunny after so long of only jerking to the memory has him about to lose it. Grasping the front of your hips, Choso jerks you flush against his pelvis. You fall forward until your cheekbone is smooshed into the vanity’s mirror and his thick bulge molding itself in-between your cheeks

“Stay just like that for me, yeah baby? Hands on the mirror, they better not fuckin’ leave either.”

You position your hands obediently and Choso, as if praising you, tenderly gifts lustful kisses down your spine while he pampers your reddening bottom with gentle caresses. 

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

The more feral his nature, the more like his prey you became. Choso licentiously inspects your body—gripping, sniffing, and nipping at your heated skin until he is level with your ass. 

You whimper as Choso rips your fishnets ripping them open, admiring the indents on your skin from the jeweled tights before burying his face between your squishy cheeks. 

His nose salaciously nuzzles against the soaked material stuck to your barely covered hole and he releases a hot guttural sigh, purring into your pussy. 

Always a fiend for dining on your cunt, Choso is brimming with contentment from your juices leaking onto his face. This may have been your punishment but it was also his reward as the taste of your filthy lil plum never failed to drive him wild—often opting to spend most of the night with his face between your hips, he’d still cum plenty times from just thrusting into the air as he let you ride his face.

Licking his lips, Choso’s tongues traces the pattern of your thong and sucks your juices from the saturated fabric. You’re both loudly moaning now—Choso from the saccharine flavor of your cunt and you from the sweet relief of the hot languid strokes of his skillful tongue.

Choso might have lost himself in that moment of finally getting to taste you again. His eyes roll back at how you lewdly leak through your soaked thong.

All for him. 

You were still his even after all this time.

However, it's your own hastiness that reminds him your penance is worth more than his own pleasure when your ass wiggles impatiently lowering onto his face when Choso’s tongue piercing starts drawing lazy circles around your sensitive lil pearl.

“C-Cho, n-need you…puh-lease s’not fair—”

Determined to control every sensation he gives to you and holding you in place, Choso scolds you.

“Fair? Nah, know what’s not fair, princess?”

His lips move closer to ghost over your ass causing goosebumps to rise over the warm tender skin.

“You actin like a bitch for a whole fuckin’ month and keeping all this good pussy away from me.”

You shudder when his teeth sink into your jiggly flesh causing you to yelp and rock against the vanity.

You’d get more pleasure when he wanted you to. 

Choso would screw that lesson into you soon enough. 

“Fuck—the only thing sweet about you is this lil’ pussy. You’re such a brat but she's so honest. Then again—maybe it's your slutty lil’ pussy that’s actually the brat, thinking she runs shit because of how good she is at milking cock, yeah?”

Choso confirms his suspicions upon peeling your soaked thong to the side. Strings of your arousal practically glue the material to your cunt. Not hesitating to make more of a mess of you, he illicitly hawks globes of his spit into your already dripping lil’ hole eagerly winking at him.

“Let’s see what this slutty cunt has to say for herself, hm?”

Choso places a chaste kiss over your entrance before driving two fingers straight in. Your hands leave streaks down the mirror as you perspire, fogging up the glass with your breathy cries.

Speeding up his pace he digs the pads of his fingers into your walls, searching until they run over a spongy hard spot and he has to fight to keep a hand on your lower back to hold you in place.

God you were virgin-tight again. 

Before ignoring you, Choso had only ever gone three days without fucking you and even then you’d been crying from his tip just stretching the entrance of your taut lil pussy. 

In the past, Choso would have taken his time with you. He knew he needed to work you open more so you wouldn’t be sore tomorrow, and yet his cock throbbed to life again so urgently he couldn't restrain himself for much longer.

That’d be something you’d just have to fucking deal with. 

This was all your fault after all. 

Plug!Choso who wouldn’t let you deprive him of his pussy for any longer—however, he was still going to make you beg for it.

“Tell me what you want, princess.”

Choso rips the thong clean off your ass cheeks. 

Leaving you exposed bare in your fishnets he rises up to lean over you. His moist breath trickles electricity down your spine as his bricked length roughly pipes between your cheeks. 

“Nghh…w-want your c-cock…”

“Whose cock—so you know me now, princess?—Choso is that it?” 

Choso mocks your voice with the hurtful words you hurled at him during the garden brunch. Gliding his girth to prod over your entrance and miss its mark intentionally. 

“Pleeaseee—C-Choso-C-Choso-C-Choso.” 

The pleas of his name slur together as your attention solely focuses on how his leaky shaft lathers your already dripping folds in his pre. 

“That’s right princess…now tell me who am I to you?”

Choso reaches around to swat at your swollen clit. 

You cry out as your body slick with sweat jolts up violently. Choso has to throw more of his weight onto you to keep you from slipping off the vanity entirely.

You could have actually fallen to the floor without noticing as the fuzzy feeling in your brain intensifies, too much is happening all at once. Your intoxicated thoughts swirl in its attempt to work out the finer details of your relationship with Choso—details you likely wouldn't have been able to answer even while completely sober.

Who was Choso to you?  

Well, frankly, right now he was technically nothing. You had never previously defined your relationship and hadn’t had any communication at all over the last month until just a few days ago.

Your dealer? Friend? Casual hookup? Situationship? 

By and large, it had been your fault that you’d never discussed it. You actively ran from any complicated conversations or pulled away whenever Choso proposed something that would be too close to affirming your status. 

You also knew how much Choso liked you, especially from how he’d blush when other parents in Yuji’s class would mistake the two of you for a couple. 

You weren’t a couple though—even if you acted like you were behind closed doors. 

Even so, you knew how he made you feel when you were with him and knew what you wanted him to be to you now. 

That was enough.

Goddamnit.

Your body threatens to explode from the vulnerability of your exposed emotions pricking at your every nerve while you work up the courage to say it. 

This admission was somehow even harder than confessing you loved him—which had honestly been relatively easy in comparison as you were so upset you would have done anything at that moment to make him stay. 

Face on fire, you clasp your eyes shut—as if not looking at Choso in the mirror means he somehow can’t hear the words that stumble out of you.

“M-My boyfriend!”

Silent tears fall as you fear his reaction, you’ve never been the one to lay your feelings on the line first.

Had you really missed your chance to be with him?

Would he just fuck you and leave after?

Choso remains silent as his hands glide up your sides, feeling you tremble under his touch. He lifts your torso, pulling you to his chest possessively. Choso’s arms encircle you as they weave between your breasts and he licks a stray tear away. 

Now you have the most lewd, yet perfectly unhindered, view of his hefty mushroom tip as it quickly slots through your puffed folds to ram into your clit.

The wide grin on his features is evident as your face crumples and pleasurable sobs rupture from you. Choso rests the side of his face against your neck as he takes in your smell, giving you a chaste kiss and savoring how much his body is scenting yours.

“Oh? You asking me out, princess? Well, I’m flattered you finally asked, but that's not exactly the answer I was looking for—”

A feverish chill spreads across your skin and you’re shivering as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.

“—as it’s certainly not what you will be calling me when I’m pushing your kidneys back.”

Choso’s hands lazily roam your body while he continues to sneak his length through your thighs. You unconsciously arch back to rest your nape on his shoulder, allowing him better access to touch you.

So he wasn’t talking about your relationship status after all?! 

Still the devious smile on Choso’s face tells you he intentionally misled you with his phrasing nonetheless. 

“So—who am I?”

The cocky tone in his voice makes it clear exactly what he wants you to call him—and you’d say it—you just need to work up the nerve first.

Unfortunately for you Choso’s patience for your bratty ass had long since depleted.

“Tch, yo we can stop then if—”

You snapped the moment you felt his hands leave you.

“NO, DADDY!” 

“I’ll be a good girl Daddy…s’good. I-I promise puh-leaseee put it in—please—need you, Daddy!”

There was no way in hell Choso would have left without sticking his dick in you but he knew that you were too hard up right now to even dream of calling his bluff.

“That’s right princess. I’m your Daddy. Now show Daddy that arch baby.”

Plug!Choso who smirks into your skin as he tastes you. The sting from a tiny love bite blossoming as he manhandles you back down onto the table’s surface when your already cockdrunk mind doesn’t have you moving fast enough.

“But you’re still actin’ up a lil baby—so you gonna have to put this dick in yourself, got it?”

Choso hums at your dizzy babbles of confirmation, slipping his thumbs over your chubby pussy lips to spread you open. Choso is in awe of how slutty your cunt looked, clenching around nothing but the webs of your own arousal and practically screaming to be busted open wider by his cock.

Catching his tip on your entrance, Choso stalls as he has to chew the inside of his own cheek to resist not thrusting into you completely—you’d do the rest from here. 

Choso was just glad you weren't looking in the mirror to see how hard his abs were trembling. 

Exhaling shaky breaths, you ease back onto him, gingerly sinking down his length. Your kitten nails fitfully scratch at the table just from the stretch of just getting his wide mushroom tip inside. 

SHIIIIT-SHIIIT-SHIIIT—Too much! 

You grit your teeth, he’s so big stretching the walls of your cunt to the degree that your walls actually try to push him out when you flex. However, Choso’s hands are digging into your hips to secure you in place. He’s not helping nor hindering you—but he isn’t letting you run any either.

Your knees knock against the vanity, trembling this much and he's only halfway in. 

“Come on, princess…”

Choso coos gently as he rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumbs, coaxing you to relax. 

The dichotomy between Choso’s treatment erratically switching in severity leaves you reeling. You're on edge with heightened arousal, never sure if his next words or touch would be rough or soothing yet either way it leaves you wanting more of him—anything he’d give, you’d take. 

But right now you need him to have a lil mercy on you. 

Tears brim your wide eyes as you pout and look at him through the mirror, pleading with him.

“Puh-leaseeee Cho—m’daddy…help me?”

Your pitiful submission has Choso cracking. His need to ruin you after so long winning over his want to delay your pleasure along with everything else.

Sighing, Choso relents.

“You know, I spoil you too much, princess…s’why you’re so rotten now.”

No sooner had he finished speaking did he hastily slam into you. Your wet warmth completely sucks him in whole and wraps around him so sinfully he has to dig his blunted nails deeper into your hips to keep from immediately painting your walls white.

God, he really was so incredibly weak for your perfect lil’ pussy.

Grunting, Choso sets an unrelenting tempo as he continues to rail into your cervix, each bruising thrust was him reminding you of every time you ignored him—pretended you didn’t know him—told people you were just friends—and for making him even love someone as mean and bratty as you in the first place.

Grabbing onto the clothing bunched at your waist for leverage, Choso pistoning his hard length in and out of you felt like he was ripping your guts out along with it. 

Gathering together a coherent thought right now was impossible. It’s so good but so intense your body reflexively reaches a hand back, frantically pressing against his abs to slow him.

Choso growls, stilling your hand behind your back while his other springs out to pin your head on the table. 

You were blocking his view of how your ass rippled every time he pounds his cock deeper into your cunt.

He just needed you to be good and take it. 

And take it you did.

Choso fucks you so hard your vanity table creaks and repeatedly slams into your wall causing the entire room to shake. Your mind goes blank as if his cock controls the very flow of blood in your body. Surging tingling sensations electrifying your veins when the curve of his length knocks his albert piercing so aggressively against your cervix. 

Your gooey walls build up so much pressure around his thickness that white spots edge your vision so very close to your nirvana.

“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so my slutty lil’ princess—hold that shit for daddy.”

But there was no way you couldn’t and just as you are at the very edge of your bliss Choso rips it away from you, halting once again to still inside of you.

“Mmmm no please-please-puhleeease let me cum Choso! Please fuck me right Daddy!” 

Plug!Choso, who as much as he wants to edge you past your limits, really pulled out because he also needs to calm down. Choso removes his shirt overhead as the heat in the room has skyrocketed to near sweltering. 

Even unmoving inside you, your pussy still flexes around him like crazy. You weren’t on birth control so he never came inside you, not even once before. Pulling out normally to release over your stomach, ass or tits and wearing a condom on days it wasn't as safe. 

Although he desperately wants to cum inside you, to really mark you as his, could he risk it? 

It would be so stupid and so irresponsible, going far beyond any punishment. 

You still had a year of school left.

He couldn't knock you up. 

Then again you didn't need to go to classes physically—you could take them online. 

Pushing his more debased and wicked thoughts aside, ultimately Choso reigns himself in. He didn’t even want to put you in that position. He’d support you regardless, but he’d admittedly die inside if you decided not to have his child. 

“S-Shit! C-Cho the door!” 

Seeing the sliver of hallway light cast into your dimly lit room, you realize now that you must have forgotten to lock it. This was an old house and your door had the habit of coming open easily from just some minor movement in your room if left unlocked. 

Choso fucking you like he hated you was surely enough to knock it loose.  

Unfortunately for you though, Choso didn’t give a fuck. 

Abruptly snapped out of his perverse breeding fantasies, Choso’s feral eyes, tinged red from his high meet your frantic ones in the mirror.

“No.”

The renewed vigor of his cock plowing through you again strangles any protests, gagging you on them as you feel him back in your throat from the intensity. 

“Nah princess, let them all hear how hard you sob on this loser’s cock while he fucks some manners into you.”

And sob you did. It was difficult to do anything else really as him moving inside you again had your body buzzing more than from your actual high. 

“It doesn’t matter, cause I am about to fuck you so hard even the walls downstairs start shaking—”

Choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit when he kicks his thrusts up a notch and hitches your leg up on the vanity. 

“—n’when they discover us there’s no way they will even want a cockdrunk brat who lets her ‘weirdo burnout stalker’ get her high and fuck her stupid as a president.”

Your mind, clearly ruined by his dick thinks that might not actually be so bad. 

“Shit, you tightened up baby, you actually want someone to find us? See how good I slut you out, yeah?”

Honestly, the harder he thrusted inside you the less you cared—about anything.

School. 

The sorority. 

Your presidency. 

None of it made you feel anywhere near as fulfilled as you were right now with Choso’s thick girth ripping through you. 

The walls quake even more violently. 

The soggy clicking sounds from your soaked cunt almost reach the volume of your crazed screams for him to fuck you even harder. 

Choso was so fucking close again, he was beginning to lose reason.

“F-Fuck it—should I cum in you, princess? I’ll even let you cum too this time.”

Your brain on a mission to cum, fucked so smooth by his fat cock, could care less as long as you got to cum too. 

Oh fuck, just a lil more and you would—

“—PREZ! Did you get the goods or not? We wanna start roll—”

On her phone texting, Brianna—who is pretty fucked up herself—did not even register that the sex noises came from your room. Thinking Choso had left already and sure you were up here salty about her ‘stealing him away’. 

All the color drains from Brianna’s face as she drops her phone as well as her red solo cup filled with spiked seltzer, splashing on her outfit as well as the floor. 

Through the mirror's reflection, she can see the pleasurable agony painted all over your face from getting your cheeks clapped into oblivion by the obvious third leg Choso was packing. Your eyes to the ceiling, heaving out wails as your tongue hangs out of your mouth waging with every thrust Choso carves into your guts. The clicking sound of his cock stirring up your tight lil’ pussy echoes throughout your room. 

“OH MY GAWD! So it was true? You’re actually fucking him??? OHMYGAWDOGMYGAWD they aren’t going to believe this!”

Cockdrunk and stupified you couldn’t give even a piece of a fuck. Honestly, you wouldn't have even noticed her if Choso didn’t stop again. 

No, No, No. You were so sick of being edged! Not after he finally was going to let you cum. 

This can’t be happening right now.

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You needed to cum so bad. 

Your vision is blurry with moisture caught in your lashes as you push yourself up. Grasping onto the edge of the tabletop you used it as leverage to weakly fuck yourself back onto him, doing the work this time if he wouldn’t.

You wouldn’t let Brianna’s ass of all people prevent you from having the orgasm you’ve been fiending over a fucking month for.  

“I jushh w-wanna cum! Pleasssh, wanna-cum-wanna-cum…”

You chant out shamelessly. Your desperate whines stunning both Choso and Brianna. 

Candidly, both thought you'd be horrified enough to stop. 

Choso especially, as even after everything tonight wouldn’t have been shocked if the mortification of actually being caught had you kicking him out.

“Heh.”

Are you actually choosing him for once?

Choso wasn’t going to let the moment pass without finding out—that’s for fuckin’ sure.

The smack he delivers to your cheeks grab your attention as you bellow out more cries. You’re still pathetically trying to get off with your weakened thrusts back. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off—but better than the burning that threatens to incinerate you whole if you stopped.

“Hey Princess, I’ll let you cum just lemme know something first, yeah?”

You nod your head longingly, dizzy with need.

“Tell this bitch whose dick is this?”

For the first time that night, you answered without missing a beat.

“M-Mine m’daddy, its m-mine!”

You pant breathlessly, still trying to rock yourself back on him but you aren't quite hitting the spot. 

Your eyes lock with Brianna’s through the mirror’s reflection yet you are looking straight through her—your eyes vacant as you could only think of Choso’s cock. 

Your cock.

“Nah don’t look at that bitch, look at me princess.”

Not hesitating, your eyes snap over to him.

“Good fucking girl—and whose pussy is this?” 

“You–YOU CHOSO! Please Daddy—please it's s’good, I need it! Please fuck me Daddy!”

Choso turns to Briana who is frozen in place—her eyes are wider than saucers—as she realizes she’s lost.

Reaching over you he grabs an ounce bag and tosses it near her hitting the floor by her feet. Brianna hesitates though, causing Choso to growl impatiently. 

He’d proved his point, now he wanted this bitch gone.

“Yo Gouda—you a voyeur or somethin’?”

Brianna jumps when Choso addresses her quickly shaking her head ‘no’. 

“Then get the fuck up outta here bitch—MOVE!”

In her haste, Brianna slips on the spilled alcohol as she scrambles to quickly snatch up the weed and her alcohol-soaked phone. The door slams shut as she scurries out the door.

Plug!Choso who has lost all desire to punish you. He only wants to be able to see your face twist in pleasure when he finally lets you have your sweet euphoric release.

In a flash, he’s moving you again. Choso swoops you up and tosses you onto the bed, hurriedly making sure the door is locked this time before kicking off his pants and crawling on top of you. 

“Shhhh princess, you did so good baby, m’gonna let you cum. Gonna have you creaming so hard on this cock, s’your cock baby—you earned it.”

Choso is slurring his words as he peppers your body with blood buzzing kisses to hush your anguished whimpers while he peels the remaining clothes off your body. Not being sheathed inside you is killing him just as much, yet he longs to touch your silky skin unimpeded against his own.

“Been taking me s’gud baby, c’mere…”

The both of you now bare, Choso wastes no time plunging back into your heated core, your heels digging into his back at the intensity. 

Damn—you’re so perfect.  

Allowing himself to let go, his mind shatters as Choso melts into your gooey lil’ cunny. 

His lips are desperate to find yours and Choso is no longer able to withhold himself from sinking into a pussydrunk state. Uncaring for any more displays of dominance, the kiss you share is hurried and sloppy causing your thoughts to splinter. 

Your mind fragments into increasingly smaller pieces of incoherency the more frantic Choso’s kiss becomes. His teeth clash with yours and graze over your swollen lips, unable to control himself as he fitfully bruises your clit from the blunt thrusts of his pelvic bone.

Tears glaze your eyes blinding you from the creamy stickiness at Choso’s hilt that splash between your bodies. The musky fluids flow all over your puffed lil’ pussy to drizzle past his aching balls to puddle on your sheets.

“L-Live with me—with me n’ Yuji—FUHHCKKpussysogood—y-you ain’t gotta be here anymore, princess.”

Choso’s forehead rests against yours and his dick twitches inside of you like crazy from the ridges of his thick engorged cock scraping against every nerve in your cunt.

“Be with us, baby. Be our family. I-I–SHIIIIIT—I love you so-much-so-much.”

All of his bravado strips away and there’s just the soft Choso you knew once again. The one who would do anything for you, the one who made your stomach flip and your heart stop—you didn’t want to go through life anymore without him in yours.

“Y-Yes! I wanna—ah fuhhhh—s’gud l-love you D-Daddy!”

Overwhelmed with emotion for you and knowing he would come soon, Choso reaches a shaky hand between you to roughly smash his palm into your sensitive lil’ bud. The soaked slick from your bodies causes his movements to jerk erratically and your hips involuntarily thrash against him.

Choso screws his eyes shut, your bodies so wet he nearly slips off of you in his single-minded focus to make you cum. He has to be ready to pull out of you as soon as you do or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting all of his cum in you—yet that’s exactly what your fucked out lil’ pussy wants. 

“C-Cum—cum in me Daddy…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as you almost fade out of consciousness from the sublime shockwaves that erupt over your body as you are nearly at the peak of your climax.

Choso’s hips falter, almost in a more fucked out condition than you. He nearly dumped his entire load into you then but his last sliver of sanity held out.

“SHIIIIIT—P-Princess—Do ya even know what y’er s-saying to me right now?” 

Time slows, your hand cups his face staring with conviction as best you could into his dark aubergine eyes as your other weakly directs the palm pressing on your clit to rest on your belly.  

“Cum in me Choso—I-I wouldn’t mind having a baby if it's yours.” 

Oh fuck… 

And with that your knees were by your ears and your ankles dangle off his shoulders. 

Sure, you were intoxicated on many substances—his dick included and as much as you may have just been talking shit at this moment Choso doesn’t care anymore.

You’d told him you’d have his baby and it’s all his pussydrunk mind can process.

Like a puppy Choso whimpers his groans keen sharply out of him as his tongue dangles to drip slobber down your neck. He’s reverting back to the sloppy whiny mess you know him to be when hes fucked himself out from treating your drooling hole like a well-loved pocket pussy.

“MHMMM FUCK!”

The knot inside you twists impossibly tighter, straining your nerves until it finally snaps sending shockwaves through you. You lose yourself in nonsensical cries as your worn battered body convulses uncontrollably, creaming around his cock. 

If your brain hadn’t shut down at this very moment—only filled with the white noise of your searing orgasm—you might be worried Choso just broke your bed. The creaking fills the room as the sound of metal bending is apparent although neither of you are concerned.

“—s’gonna be OK, mmm-FUCK—m’gonna take care of you, love you—we’ll be a real family then, you, me, yuji—n’our baby!”

You don’t even hear him as you’re on autopilot now. The red streaks your kitten nails scratch across his muscular shoulders urge him on like the squelching sounds of your squirt gushing out of you and wet smacks of his balls colliding with your ass.

Overstimulating your senses, Choso sweeps you up into another all consuming kiss. The mind-numbing aftershocks of your blissful tremors leaves your tongue limp as his mouth hungrily devours yours. When Choso finally releases, his hot seed pumps into your tummy as his body writhes on top of yours. 

The mind numbing aftershock of your euphoric release continues as Choso proceed to fuck more and more of his thick ropes of his cum into you. He doesn’t show signs of slowing down but your body on the other hand fades, giving into the comforting gratification of sleep after having your guts rearranged. 

“O-one more time, p-princess—pleaseeee.”

Your thankful at that moment you’ve previously told Choso you didn’t mind somnophilia and gave him the free use pass to fuck you while you slept. You rarely actually could even stay asleep with how hard he would end up railing you but there was a first time for everything with your cunt finally content and full after so long your exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber. 

Plug!Choso who tightly cuddles you to him as you both sleep. The two of you twisted up like a pretzel in a mess of limbs with you practically smashed between Choso and the wall. 

Your XL twin bed clearly wasn't meant to comfortably fit two people like this. 

You’re still mostly asleep though, softly groaning as the cheery morning sun pierces through your thin curtains. You move to throw a pillow over your face only to discover you cannot budge. 

However, you can't say you weren’t used to waking up like this. Choso was always a hardcore cuddler. You missed the mornings you’d wake overheated and skin to skin. Your legs would find themselves intertwined just like this. 

Somehow, Choso would always find a way to fuse the both of your bodies together where every part of him was touching some piece of you.

Typical…

The sleepy thought drifts through your brain, sensing it's still far too early for you to wake up. Wanting to drift back to sleep you burrow your face deeper into his chest, stiffening when your mind does the very opposite and wakes up enough to recall the events of the previous night.

Sobering quickly in the daylight, a sinking feeling begins to suffocate your heart. The now familiar guilt you’ve accumulated over the past month amplifies the hangover etching itself behind your eyes. 

You can’t help but panic as the memories from the night before come rushing back. 

There was still so much uncertainty. 

Having been utterly humbled for the first time in your life you can’t stop the self doubt that questions if he’d even meant everything he said last night—you were both lit as hell. 

You’d meant it though.

Your heart seizes at the thought that this might be the last time you’d wake up in his arms. Before you know it you are crying again trembling as you try not to wake Choso up with your silent tears.

You are quiet enough but Choso is also a light sleeper and stirs awake at the small fit you’re having.

“H-Hey, morning princess *yawns*—wait, what's wrong?”

His tired eyes are full of loving concern as Choso cups your face wiping away your tears before bringing you into his chest, tightening his hand on your head.

“Shit, was I too rough on you last night princess? Fuck, I know how much all this shit means to you I—”

You interrupt Choso, you can’t let him beat himself up over you any longer.

“N-No, Cho—”

Sniffling, you break away from his hold just enough to maneuver yourself to meet his tired eyes. 

You mentally kick yourself—you hated being such a crybaby now but you couldn't help it. You were left feeling so vulnerable after being stripped of all pretenses the night before—it all just started pouring out of you— 

“—d-did you mean it? W-What you said? Cause I—I meant what I said. I-I wanna be with you and Yuji. C-Cook breakfast and f-fall asleep watching movies and go to all his games with you—I’ll never miss another game and—and—”

“Bet.”

Wait…huh?

Even after last night you half-still expect him to be upset with you, you’d still expected you’d have to beg. 

You’re left speechless.

“Bet. Let’s pack up your shit then, princess.”

Choso’s bright grin is near blinding to your weary gaze. 

“I meant everything I said, I could never lie to you.”

Giving you a tender kiss on your forehead, he forces you to look him in the eyes. Choso takes in all your looks of uncertainty before melting them away, softly cooing affirmations with his lips fluttering over yours. You’re so needy for his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him even closer.

Not being able to resist your body’s calls for him, you soon find yourself underneath Choso who rubs his morning wood against your core still soaked with his essence from the night before.

Choso smirks down at you, the cockiness back in his voice.

“What I say before? You’re my family—Fuck those bitches and fuck your parents—I got you.”

Plug!Choso, who doesn’t know what time it is but knows he has to go pick up Yuji from his friends soon. He also doesn’t know if he should expect your nosy ass sorority sisters to barge in again. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sinking into your sopping heat once more, never taking his lips off of you. 

Unlike the fervor of last night, his strokes are slow. The anger and intensity are gone, but the passion still remains simmering under your skin. Choso is savoring every bit of you as he devours your mewls, drinking them down along with any lingering unsureties. 

But, fuck—he doesn't feel like he’ll be able to keep himself from cumming inside you from now on. Not when you’d be living with him and Yuji, acting all domestic like. 

Images of a would-be future with you swirl in his mind—you pregnant, giggling at Yuji when he jumps in surprise from feeling the baby kick—your belly growing so large you had to cradle a hand underneath when you adorably waddled from room-to-room—the day of delivery when you both finally get to meet the child you cr—

—MUTHRFUUUUH!

Choso’s eyes roll towards the ceiling as he whines loudly, his whole body is shivering along with his premature release. Buckets of his viscous seed slosh in your womb with every sloppy stutter of his hips, pushing the mass overflow of his cum out of your swollen hole and down the crack of your ass.

Fucking you through his overstimulation, your cries only fuel his intent to impregnate you. The want for the sensual intimacy that slow fucking brings after a reconciliation being overtaken by the intense primal urge to put a baby in your belly.

There was no need for any additional vocalizations of affection when Choso is so adamantly reciprocating your feelings, his creamy cum filling you with promises of his devotion which he fucks even deeper into your womb. 

You aren’t able to recall the last time you felt this satisfied. Working so hard to meet everyone else’s standards was exhausting and you didn’t regret your choice.

You had no plans now other than being with Choso. 

And contrary to the dread of what you had previously thought deviating off course would be like—it frees you. You love and trust Choso enough to let go of all of it and just let life take you where it would.

You’d be content as long as you have him and Yuji. 

Choso knows this yet even so, he is still on a mission to add a fourth to your new little family sooner rather than later. 

He knew you were speaking of the future when you said you’d have his kid the night before but—why delay the inevitable? 

Choso needed to fill you up at least 2 more times before he’d let you leave this bed—no matter how many of your sorority sisters would walk in—they could watch for all he cares.

Yeah at this rate you’d definitely be pregnant by the start of school next year.

Shit, he’d have to go buy a ring soon.

⋙ how was that? holy hell i think this is the longest fic i've written lol. i wanted to take my time with this because although brat taming isn't hard i still wanted to capture the essence of choso. he can be mean enough to do it he's definitely going to internally struggle a bit and be our whiny feral lil baby gworl at the end lol.

taglist will be in a reblog in the morning. needed to get this out and then go to bed. i might also edit it a bit as well. as some of it wasn't proofed.

reblogs and comments so appreciated, i wanna know what u think, send me asks too!

[yieldtotemptation]

ANIMALS ft. Natty

natty x male reader smut

10k words

“All I’m saying is,” Natty starts, like she always does, with more unsolicited advice than you can handle at 2 AM, "for someone that complains so much about not having a sex life, you really don’t do much to fix it."

“And what, oh wise friend of mine, is your recommendation.”

“I don’t know. Get a haircut. Dress better. Try not being a massive pussy?” Natty shrugs. Or at least you think she does. Only so much you can tell over the phone.

You sigh. Bite back the urge to tell her to fuck off. But then, who else would talk you to sleep at this ungodly hour? So instead, you concede the point. “Noted.”

“Or, you know, if it’ll stop you from being such a little bitch,” and now she’s laughing, cackling really, and not once has that ever, ever meant anything good. "You could always just fuck me."

—

Two weeks and twelve hours post-Natty’s incredibly unhelpful suggestion that did absolutely nothing to alleviate you of your insomnia, and you’re back on the phone with her.

Only this time, there's video.

So, yay.

"Help me, please."

It’s a Friday and Natty's begging, again.

Because she knows she can count on you, knows that you’ve long since resigned yourself to your fate as Natty’s on-call ‘fixer’. There for everything from life-changing career decisions to helping her figure out what show to stream next.

And now, apparently, choosing her outfit for tonight.

“Help me, help me, help me, help me.”

God, this woman and her begging. Knowing full well that it’s your kryptonite.

"Okay, okay, okay," you're relenting, much earlier than usual. Mostly because as far as Natty’s petulant requests usually go this one’s a walk in the park. “But don’t you have people for this sort of thing? People who don’t, and I quote, ‘have a dogshit taste in style?’”

“It is dogshit!” Natty calls out, already turned around and leaving you (her phone) on the vanity, facing out to her bedroom and all its hideous pinkness. She disappears from the screen, diving deep into her closet for yet another pair of shorts that will most certainly hug way too close, or a top that dips way too low, or a pair of heels that scream—'hey, I have legs, would you like to spread them?' "But!"

Natty returns to the camera with a leather belt—oh no, that's a leather skirt—in hand; clad in nothing but a casual cotton bra/underwear combination that she’s filling out far too well for your sleep-deprived brain to handle.

She holds up the skirt against her waist for your consideration. Poses. It wouldn't cover a thing. Or maybe that's the point—again, you don't have any fashion sense, whatsoever.

“You’re a man, and I need a man’s opinion because I’m hoping to take one home tonight to fuck my brains out until I forget about this shit-storm of a week. So, you know—help a girl out?”

“As always, you have quite a way with words.”

Natty leans towards the camera, bending down to stare right at you. It makes entirely too much sense that she’s built an entire career around doing just this.

“It’s my third language, asshole.”

The insult lands softer than she likely intended, considering well, you’re a little too distracted to take it. It’s entirely her fault. The angle makes her tits look far too immaculate to pay any attention to her mouth.

Maybe she should consider going out just like this?

Yeah, that’d definitely get her fucked.

But, she frowns before you can make the suggestion, turning on her heels and sashaying back to her closet, leaving you to choke on air at the sight of her ass stretching out her favourite pair of panties. (The white pair with the pretty-pink bows. The one that rides up her ass when she stretches, bends, sneezes—basically any time she’s not standing perfectly still. And even then.)

Anyone else and this whole thing would be weird. Well, weirder than it already is.

See, you and Natty have this thing; this odd, cat and dog relationship that’s been going on since what feels like the dawn of time:

You’ve watched her shamelessly cycle through men faster than a teenager through a box of tissues, leaving a trail of broken hearts and broken cocks in her wake.

While she’s been forced to witness every time you’ve met ‘the one’, only to be there months later to help pick up the pieces when you’re burying your feelings in video games and alcohol and porn, wondering how it all went so wrong.

All this to say that seeing Natty bouncing around in her underwear with that laser-beam of a smile of hers; with all of her soft curves, thick thighs, her ridiculous ass and again, those immaculate fucking tits isn't that unusual.

In fact, it doesn't really do anything for you at all.

(Fucking liar.)

“Here, how about this.” Natty appears from the corner of the screen, having found a top that’s somehow made of even less material than the bra she’s already got on. The gall of her to ask, "Too much or not enough?"

You deadpan. “Does it come in adult sizes too?”

Natty grins, because she can read it right on your stupid face. She looks so, unbearably hot. Without even trying that hard. This bitch. “So just right, then.”

And then she twirls, leaving you to face her back, and before you even have time to blink, Natty’s bra has fallen down her shoulders; and you’re hating how you lean in to look because this damn app has no zoom feature to save your sorry eyesight.

Her fucking tits. Perfect, bouncy. Even through the pixels, even from behind, you can still see the way they spill.

She slips on her chosen top for the evening—a tiny, strappy number—and spins back around to face you in all her Natty glory. By the skin of your teeth, you’re looking away and leaning back, feigning nonchalance and leaving her none the wiser.

You think.

“You know,” Natty says, tilting to one side, hand on hip. Fuck, even that slightest movement makes them bounce. Utterly, utterly obscene. “You should just come tonight.”

You’re saying, “Fuck no,” before she’s even finished her sentence. ‘Coming tonight’ means ‘clubbing’, and ‘clubbing’ means being stuck listening to the shittiest music, surrounded by the worst people in all of Korea, drinking overpriced slop and watching Natty turn down a revolving door of douchebags on the dancefloor.

So, yeah.

If ‘fuck no’s’ were bricks, you’d be building the Great Wall of ‘Fuck No’, big enough for aliens on the other side of the galaxy to see with a fucking telescope and have their first contact with the human race be a giant ‘Fuck No’.

And that’s your polite way of turning her down.

Yet somehow, Natty’s hardly deterred.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Natty sing-songs, shuffling on her tiptoes, shifting her weight from foot to foot, making her entire body jiggle. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to sell you on the idea with every little movement. Make you believe that if you came with her, you’d be able to find someone who comes close to looking half as good as she does in that… whatever-the-fuck that is. Bralette? Crop top? Whatever. Fat chance. "Come on, come, come, come. Be my wingman please!"

You already have your second ‘fuck no’ queued up, but Natty just won’t stop fucking talking.

“Don’t you want to get laid? Don’t you think you need to have fun after what’s-her-name?” Natty continues, pouting at you through the screen.

And there it is, a study in how Natty usually gets her way—jutting out her bottom lip, digging her thumb into the waistband of her panties to expose just a smidge more skin, leaning just right to make her tits look like they’re about to pop out. It’s like she’s got a fucking manual.  

“Don’t tell me you’d rather stay at home with Handalf the Grey than come out with me and all my hot friends?”

“You mean having to clean up after all your ‘hot friends’ and their bullshit while you run off to score free drinks?” You retort, recalling all the other times when she managed to entice you out of your self-imposed isolation and into the deafening, sweaty hellhole known as a nightclub.

“Said hot friends that you’re too much of a pussy to hit on, mind you,” Natty chides, and then oh-so-casually decides to drop this nugget: "They all like you, you know, they'd be more than happy to break this dry spell of yours if you just asked. Don’t act like I haven’t seen the way you look at Julie."

You can feel your cheeks reddening. You’re not a teenager. You shouldn’t blush at this shit. But here you are, falling for Natty’s words and their magical abilities to needle at your insecurities and fill your head with thoughts of her friends and all their... well, incredibly positive attributes.

Natty pounces on your lapse in composure and gets closer to the camera, crouches. Drops down so she’s on her heels and all you can see in that tiny window of your phone is the red of her plush, plump lips.

“Come, you pussy—”

“Natty—”

“Do it pussy—”

“Natty, if you think that’s going to work—”

“Pussy, pussy, pussy—”

You’re yelling down the phone: “Fuck, fine!”

Natty’s victory dance is already in full swing before the words have even left your mouth. Bouncing around her room in pure joy at once again having ruined your evening. Dancing in that barely-there outfit, treating you to entirely sinful ripples across her curves and dips, pure sex on a pair of toned legs. Really makes you wonder how the fuck is she not illegal in at least fifty different countries.  

You hide your face in your hands, because there it is, the reason you’ve never really been able to deny her:

Her laughter, her energy, her fucking shameless glee whenever she manages to get her way (which, if you’re keeping count, is every single time).

She’s just so frustratingly adorable.

Somewhere in her celebrations, Natty finds exactly what she was looking for. Reaches down to the floor, picking up a belt—no, that’s another skirt—this one even tinier than the first.

“Oh, this is perfect,” she preens, holding it out to the camera (to you), before stepping right into it. She spins around, making it dance around her hips. It does wonders for her thighs. "How do I look?”

You swallow. “Like you’re going to get fucked tonight.”

The glint in Natty’s eyes. Like you’ve just served up the finest compliment on a silver platter. You feel sorry for whatever poor soul crosses her path tonight.

Natty winks. “Here’s to hoping.”

—

Guess what?

Turns out you were right: this is the worst place in the world.

Only, you’re the sole person here that seems to think that.

Hours have passed since you helped Natty look perfectly fuckable and you’re at the bar, trying and failing to get the attention of the bartender. Unfortunately, he, like every other male with a beating heart and a boner seems far more interested in Natty’s little dance routine than his thirsty clientele.

You can’t blame him, really. It’s built in how she moves.

Strobe lights cutting through the air like knives, slicing her into this series of absolutely pornographic snapshots as she dances. And she’s not alone, she has friends—beautiful, all of them, in their own ways. They spin and twirl around her; but Natty’s the sun here, the star that everything orbits.

(You included).

You see it play out—the Natty effect. Men, even women alike gravitate to her, drawn by that magnetic force that is Natty at her very best. Trying to get a dance, maybe whisper a line they stole from some movie in her ear, even dare to reach out to touch or press themselves up against her.

But she’s a black hole, a dark star. Can’t get too close.

One by one, they’re swallowed up by the void of Natty’s disinterest. The shoulders slump, the smiles falter, and the hope in their eyes dies as Natty, with a simple flick of her wrist sends them stumbling back into the crowd, forgotten almost immediately.

And the whole time she’s doing this, she’s got you in her line of sight. A wink here, a smile there, a dance on its own; and all you can do is nod and pretend like you’re okay with all this.

You inhale. Deeply.

Her outfit looks even tinier in person.

You turn away for just a moment, shaking off thoughts of Natty, of her hips and their sway and her winks and her smile; attempting (and failing) to flag down the bartender once more.

This fucking night.

But, when you look back, Natty’s no longer on the dancefloor.

She’s standing next to you. Arms looping around your neck.

“Natty—”

But she’s not listening. Her eyes are darting around the room, searching for something—or someone—that you can’t see. Your stomach clenches, because that look on Natty’s face? That’s not her usual I’m-about-to-make-some-poor-soul-my-bitch look. That’s something else entirely. That’s fear.

“Shut up, I need a favour,” she’s in your ear, yelling over the thrum of the bass that’s rattling your ribcage.

You lean in, bend down to meet her, because, frankly, you’re worried. You’ve never seen Natty like this, wide eyed and shaky. Never seen her be anything but comfortable.

You’ve also never been this close to her. Felt her breath hot against your neck, felt her body press up against you, felt her softness, felt her—

Fuck, you should be asking her what’s wrong, but before you can even do that, the bartender's filling two shot glasses and sliding them over to Natty.

She takes one. You take the other. It tastes lethal.

Natty’s nails dig into the back of your neck, and she looks at you, intense. Words fast and frantic. “Just pretend we’re together, okay? For a bit. Until I can figure this out. Just—just keep playing along, yeah?”

You blink. The room blurs around you. You think you might’ve misheard. “What?”

“Be my boyfriend,” she says, taking a second shot before you can even digest the first. “I need you. There’s some creep and I need you. Now, please?”

You turn immediately, scanning the floor, but the lights and shadows make it near impossible to make out anything other than vague shapes and strobes of colour, let alone pinpoint a face. "Natty, where is he, I can—"

"No, no, no," she cuts you off with a shake of her head. “Focus on me.”

“Wait, why do I have to—”

“Oh, shit there he is—”

And then she’s kissing you.

Ending whatever argument you may have had, because she’s grabbing, pulling you in, and her lips are on yours and oh fuck, she’s really, really kissing you.

It’s a slap to the face, and you need to reel in from the sting. Because you’re already forgetting what you’re doing, forgetting how your limbs work, because Natty’s putting on the performance of a lifetime and you’re having trouble keeping up.

Her hands are in your hair, yours at the small of her back, and she’s pulling you close, squishing against you and the taste of her—sweet like candy and sharp like vodka—filling you all the way up.

Your tongue catches up, flicking against hers, licking inside of her mouth and she’s even convincing you—as if she’s the one that’s always been into the love at first sight bullshit and you’re the non-believer.

And it’s a problem, how right this feels. Because this isn’t what friends do—definitely not Natty and you. But still, you can feel her tension, her need for this to be believable; and you don’t dare to fuck it all up.

So you kiss her back, because that’s what you do for Natty.

You always do what she needs.

You’re about to pull away; this should be enough to have every single person here convinced that you’re hers and she’s yours. But Natty’s already sliding her tongue back in your mouth, pleading, “Keep going,” the moment a gap opens between your lips; and you’re diving back into the kiss without a second thought.

And then you hear it.

A flash of a camera.

A cheer.

A whistle.

Julie, Haneul, Belle—Natty’s friends, staring at you like proud fairy godmothers witnessing their own magic at work.

You break the kiss. You look down at Natty.

She giggles.

You feel like a fucking idiot.

"There is no creep, is there?"

Natty shrugs, looks up at you, and she actually looks—what is this? Shy? Embarrassed?

"There could’ve been," she says, her eyes wide and innocent, a mask. You see through her like you should have when she first wrapped her arms around your neck.  Oh sure, like she’s ever been innocent for a second in her entire life.

She’s far too smug for that.

You roll your eyes. You feel like every other idiot that’s ever fallen for a bat of her lashes and a peek at her tits. Hope is a hell of a drug, especially when Natty’s the dealer. And yet, despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirks up. "You're fucking insane."

“Maybe.” There’s a long pause. She’s staring at your mouth. She presses a finger to your sternum. “But I had to do something.”

It takes a second. What?

What does that mean?

You stare at Natty, lick your lips. Her taste still lingers.

“Ask yourself the same question I’ve been asking myself for months now,” she says, louder this time, her voice cutting through the noise of the club and hitting your ears with a sobering clarity.

You know what she’s going to say—what she’s going to ask before she’s even opened her mouth. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing too.

So, swallow hard, try to ignore the way Natty’s friends have gone quiet. Try to ignore Natty’s hand still resting against your chest, her eyes burning a hole right through you.

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?”

The blood’s rushing to your cheeks; the music's too loud, the lights too bright, and the room's suddenly spinning around you like a carousel.

Fucking embarrassing.

But Natty doesn’t crack a smile. She just looks up at you. Hopeful. Searching you, searching your eyes for an actual answer; and you already know what it is.

“Because, Natty, we’re friends.” You offer up a weak smile, hoping against hope that she’ll buy it.

But she shakes her head. “Oh, please. Like that’s ever stopped anyone before. Besides, if you want to put a label on it, call it whatever the fuck you want. I just know what I need. Do you?”

You sigh. She gets closer. And closer.

Until your nose is brushing hers. Until her breath is hot on your face, until your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your ears. Until her hand is sliding down, down, down, until it’s resting over your pants and oh, oh no, you’re straining.

You gasp. She smirks.

“See? You want it too. And I know you do, because, sweetie, your cock’s practically begging me to pull it out and shove it between my tits right here in front of everyone.”

She just throws it out there, so casually, so bluntly, she might as well be talking about the weather. And maybe, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Natty being Natty, but fuck you can’t do anything but stay frozen still.

You’re letting her hand linger. You’re letting her touch you like she’s got every right in the world. You’re letting her because there’s a part of you—the part that’s growing by the second—that wants to see just how far she’ll take this.

“So, what is the real reason, ba-by?”

Because you’re in love with her. You’re in love with her, and you can’t just have casual sex with someone you’re in love with because it will ruin you.

But you don’t say that. Instead, you just tell her: “Timing.”

That makes her laugh. Has her closing what little gap remained between your bodies, until her tits are flush against your chest, and you’re coming to the conclusion that, yes, you did help her pick out the perfect outfit for tonight.

Perfectly, hopelessly, fuckable.

“Well,” she says, and she’s pulling you back down again and shutting you up with yet another kiss. “We’ve got all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

—

You’ve been here before.

Many, many times before.

You installed the showerhead and fixed all the cabinets yourself. Even secured the lock that you’re now unlocking with the digits that you coded.

But somehow, it feels like a first.

First time you’ve kissed her in the back of a car, pushed your hand up her skirt, felt the heat of her against your fingertips. First time you’ve pinned her against the wall of an elevator, made her feel just how desperate you were for her against her thigh, made her promise to be so good for you when you got to her door.

First time being pulled through the threshold, hands at your chest, tearing your shirt off you before you’ve even stepped foot in her apartment. Had her smiling against your mouth, because she’s won, again, and you can’t even bother to argue because you’ve lost to her so many times now that this shouldn’t be so surprising.

What is surprising though is how you’re naked first.

"Terrible, terrible taste." Natty's clicking her tongue as your shoes, your shirt, your pants are scattered along the floor behind you. “We’ll have to fix that.”

And then she’s moving on, hands clawing down your stomach to land at the waistband of your underwear, hooking her thumbs in and yanking down. You’re so obviously hard—you’ve barely made any effort to hide it from her—fuck, you pretty much flagged down the taxi with it.

"Holy fuck," is the first thing out of Natty's mouth when she takes a hold of you, feeling the naked weight of you in her palm. "You’re really not messing around, are you? I was expecting—"

"A sad, lonely little thing," you finish for her, because you've heard it before. "Yeah, you like to mention it a lot."

But Natty’s not laughing now.

She’s just staring. Almost reverently. She decides, her voice a little raspy, tinted with an apprehension that you never knew she was capable of mustering, "I like it. It's... massive."

You lean in, pressing your mouth against hers because if she’s going to say that, you’re going to kiss her, again and again, and there’s a strong possibility you're never going to stop.

She whimpers, gasps into your mouth, says your name for the first time—not some nickname, not a jab or an insult. Just your name, in your ears, like it’s something sacred.

You’re not a saint. You can’t ignore that.

Your cock jumps in her hand, and as if on instinct, she strokes you.

It's slow, purposeful. She's too good at this. Knows the right pressure, where to twist and wind her wrist. How to sweep her thumb over the tip, smear pre-cum over your skin, and this entire time she's staring down at your cock like she's discovered something new.

“This is going to ruin me, isn't it?” she whispers, and you nod, because your voice is lodged in your throat and she’s stealing the air from your lungs. “Going to fit so fucking nicely inside me. Fuck it’s going to stretch me.”

You groan, collapse your weight into Natty, press your lips against the column of her throat.

Both hands now, one underneath, toying with your balls, balancing them in her fingers, and the other doing its best to squeeze, to pump, to make you fall for her with every stroke.

“I can’t wait to ride this,” Natty kisses these words into your cheek, your jaw, leaves these marks all over your collarbone. “I wonder if I can fit it down my throat. God, can you imagine what it’ll look like between my tits?”

And that makes your cock throb.

Because face it, Natty has always had a way of getting into your head; is far too dangerous with her words, and she’s all too willing to abuse this power she has over you to get you do what she wants, which is now, apparently, fucking her senseless.

You let her, let her build and build this pressure, let it coil inside you, tighter and tighter. Until the need to feel her, all of her, is too much to handle.

Until you grab her, take her by the shoulders, push her—not hard, but firmly—against the nearest wall.

You’re not gentle about it, because Natty doesn’t want gentle. She wants rough, she wants passionate, she wants to be fucked and have her cunt worshipped by way of complete ruin.

She’s told you as much.

"That's more like it," Natty bites into your ear, grips your shoulders. She follows your eyes. "Let me guess, my tits?"

So, maybe she has caught you looking once or twice. Either way, you don’t care much for her top anymore, it’s served its purpose. You take a fistful of it and pull, ripping it right off her and tossing it to the floor with everything else that’s kept the two of you from tearing each other apart.

“Better?” Natty poses for you, puts her tits on display—and yeah, you were right all along. Fucking immaculate.

You take a hold of one, palm it; fill your hand with flesh, twinge those dark, plump nipples, because of course you’re going to. You’re going to pinch and squeeze and suck on them. You’re going to mark her like she’s already done to you. Mark them, with your teeth, with your tongue. Fuck, you’re going to make them yours.

But for now, you're just going to slap them, because you want to watch them jiggle up close.

You laugh. Natty does too.

"Much better."

And with that, you’re back on her. Kisses that are sloppy, wet, and filled with all the pent-up want that's been simmering for months. You don’t even know where to begin with Natty, but you start with her mouth. It’s a good place. It’s always a good place with Natty.

Her hand doesn’t stop moving, can’t, won’t. The friction is heaven; you just let her touch you, fuck her hand while you indulge in her tits. Get to know the weight of them, the balance, the softness.

A sigh into your ear as your tongue finally finds her breasts, deep and messy, sliding over her nipple—she’s already so sensitive, just a flick and she’s gasping. You’re not even trying to be precise anymore, not that Natty needs it, not that she needs anything but for you to enjoy yourself against her.

It all makes the room seem smaller, the walls close, surrounding you with the scent—cinnamon and sweat and something else that’s just her.

“See this is why fucking me is such a great idea,” she slurs against your shoulder, hand tightening, stroking you harder, faster.

You mumble an affirmative into her breast. It’s a miracle you can still stand upright.

“Isn’t this so much better than like everything else? Anyone else?” She sighs, breathy, sweet sounds, as she takes you by the wrist, guides your hand southwards.

Fingertips graze her stomach, trace around her belly button and lower; until you’re digging into her skirt and feeling the heat rise off her skin. She’s soaked right through her panties, dripping with it. Another place for your tongue to land.

“We can just be fucking honest with each other,” Natty’s explaining, eyes tearing when your finger pads her clit, pressing down just right. “You already told me all the things you hate. All the things your bitch exes never let you do.” And she smiles, wicked. “Never had the tits to give you.”

Christ.

“And I can get you to fuck me exactly how I want with this big, fucking cock,” Natty finishes. "We’re a perfect fucking match."

It’s at that moment you find the zipper of her skirt, tugging it down, watching it fall to the feet. Leaving Natty to step out of the tiny scrap of fabric she calls her panties; abandoning the sticky mess of cotton.

You take a step back, unlatch your lips from her tits, because you need to see it. Need to finally see her, see your Natty, see the Natty you've never allowed yourself to look at.

So, take your time, drink her in—because the way she’s standing there, the way she’s touching herself now; biting her lip, sighing your name. All but saying, ‘Look all you want, but don’t you dare look away’.

Look at the arch of her neck, the red you’ve left there, that trail you’ve burned down to her tits. Bruised and swollen from your tongue, your kisses, and yet still not marked enough. Follow the curve of her hips; how they flare out from her waist, the plush squish of her ass cheeks against the wall behind her.

You want to kiss her, from the tips of her toes to the top of head; all of her, every part of her, because now she’s going to finally let you.

Because now you're going to fuck her until all she knows is you, going to make her scream your name, going to make her beg for you to fill her with your cock and cum and never ever leave her cunt empty again.

That’s the plan, anyway.

But Natty’s got plans of her own.

“Didn’t you say,” Natty begins, sighing, circling her cunt in a rhythm that you’re dying to recreate. She licks her lips. “That your last ex refused to suck that lovely, magnificent cock of yours?

"Yeah," you stammer, at a loss for breath at just the sight of it all. “And weren’t you trying to find someone to fuck your brains out?”

Natty’s eyes light up; and there's that easy, charming grin that knocks you right off your feet. "You’ve always been such a good listener."

—

Natty's plotting to ruin you.

It's the only possible explanation for the way she's looking at you right now—on her knees, at the foot of her bed, flanked by walls painted an ugly shade of pastel pink and Natty's tits, sandwiching your cock.

You’d imagined it, thought about it when you shouldn’t have been thinking about it. Whenever she brought you to watch her perform, whenever she sent you pictures of her outfit of the day. But your eyes always went there. Straight to Natty’s tits, every time.

You knew they were big.

You’ve felt them, on accident (though they don’t seem like accidents anymore).

But now, to have them enveloping your cock, drowning your shaft in their softness, and to have her, staring at your face with so much fucking excitement as she gives you everything you’ve ever wanted—it’s surreal.

You’re dying to paint them white.

“Looks like you’re already about to fall apart, baby,” she teases, and it’s even worse now that she’s calling you these sweet names, saying them like she’s always wanted to, like she’s finally letting herself. “Couldn’t wait, could you?”

“Fuck, Natty—” you breathe out, your hands finding her hair, tightening, because that’s all you can manage to do when Natty’s in control. Like she’s always been.

“Mmhmm,” she hums, keeping her eyes on you, making sure you’re watching, even as her tongue flicks out to taste you. A slow, taunting lick to make you buck your hips, desperate to feel the suction of her lips. “You must have been dreaming about this, huh?”

You don’t bother lying. She already knows the answer. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

Natty’s smile spreads across her face, and she rewards you with a kiss, pressing her lips down onto the head of your cock; before sliding them lower, eyes fluttering shut with the first taste of you. “Well, what took you so long? All you needed to do was show me your cock and I’d have been happy to do it whenever you want me to. Happy for you to use my tits as your cum rag. You know that, right?”

She moves; and the sight of it alone—Natty’s tits wrapped around your cock, bobbing up and down, hypnotising you with the flicker of her nipples—up and down, up and down. It’s merciless, unrelenting, and she keeps talking, keeps kissing these sweet little words into your cock that makes your hips jerk, trying to fuck her tits faster, harder.

"Look at how perfect you look," Natty keeps going, "how your cock fits so snug."

The sounds she’s tearing from your throat as her tits take you, and she’s barely even started.

“But we can do better, can’t we?”

Her pace picks up, and with it, the tightness of your grip on her hair. She’s pushing the ample mounds together, squeezing, putting her whole body into it, into this new art she’s pioneering. Driving you insane with just her breasts, making you swell between them, throbbing as she works you over.

“So big," she’s panting from just the effort, the bounce, bounce, bounce of it all, "I can feel you getting so much bigger."

Everything’s going too fast, her tits are too soft, her lips on you too hot, and she’s drooling, her spit dripping down onto your cock. You want to tell her to stop, that you can’t take it, but Natty just keeps going.

"Fuck,” Natty mewls, pinching her own nipples, for you, for her. Pinching and rolling them, making them nice and stiff and swollen. “Let me just try and—”

She cranes her head, bends; takes your cock deeper into the warm, wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue darts out licks your cock, gets that sweet spot on the underside, makes you shake underneath her.

Natty holds you there, even as you groan, even as your hips rise; just licks, spits, sucks. Her mouth moving up and down on you, making a mess down your shaft, down her tits. Taking you deeper, deeper, until you’re fucking her face.

She moans around you as your hips buck and you push deep, desperate for it. Her eyes water, her cheeks hollow, and she’s got you. You’re in her mouth and she’s loving it. Loving the power she has over you, loving giving you what she wants, loving how you’re pulling her by the hair, desperate to feed her more of your cock into her throat.

Like your entire relationship has been building up to this moment—to Natty’s tits wrapped around you, her mouth all over you, her eyes on yours, watching as you fuck her face.

"Fuck, Natty," you grunt, your voice barely recognisable. "What the fuck—"

But Natty's just smiling, you’re fucking that smug little smile on her lips, and she’s taunting you. "Come on baby, keep going, keep going."

It’s utterly obscene—the smack of her lips around your cock, her slobbering all over you, her gagging, her moaning around you, looking up at you and asking, “Is that all you’ve got?”

You're so close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Moving her tits faster, faster, and you're about to blow your load all over Natty's pretty face, her chest.

But she keeps talking.

Even as you stuff her cheeks, even as you muffle her, “None of those other skinny bitches could do this, could they, could handle this big, fat cock?”

Even as you force her down, pull her by the hair, “You’ve been so obsessed with my body, so obsessed with my tits, haven’t you?”

Even as her tits slide off you and your cock smacks her across her cheek, “I always saw the way you looked at them, fuck I was showing them off for you, you just took too fucking long to notice.”

She won't stop fucking talking.

You finally snap. "God, are you ever going to stop?"

But Natty just laughs, bats her lashes. Slides her tongue from your base to your tip. "Maybe you should find something to gag me with."

Your hand wraps around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes go wide, to make her mouth pop open. She rolls out her tongue for you, and you know what she expects you to do, what she expects you to fill her mouth with.

But you don’t—instead, you fill it with your kiss.

It's deep, it’s bruising, it’s saying ‘fuck you’ in the sweetest way possible, without uttering a single syllable. Natty laughs against your mouth, a ‘fuck you’ right back with her teeth, biting down on your lower lip. Not breaking skin—not yet—but the promise is there.

Her hand leaves your cock to wrap around your neck, pulling you closer to her, her mouth eager for yours, and you don’t even think twice before you hoist her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Giggling again—another sound that’s going to be your undoing—before you’re both stumbling back onto her bed.

The mattress dips under the weight of your bodies falling back into it. Natty straddles you, presses her cunt down onto your thighs. So wet you can feel it on your thigh, leaving your skin sticky and stained with her. Your hands move to her hips, dragging her closer, so you can feel the friction grinding against your cock, making you ache.

She breaks your kiss, gasping for air. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide—seeing her pant like this, it’s not even fair. She’s just so fucking beautiful, like a painting you’re afraid to touch because you might smudge it.

You tell her as much.

She blinks. Blushes.

Grins.

“You,” Natty breathes, her hand trailing down your chest, finding your heartbeat, resting there for a beat, two, “are so fucking in love with me.”

You don’t argue because she’s right.

Her hand slides up your arms, nails dig in and she’s got your wrists, pinning them over your head. You let her. Let her grind herself against your cock, feel the warm, wet heat of her cunt against the tip.

She takes her sweet time, melting herself into you, pressing her tits into your chest, and you can feel her heart racing against yours.

She whispers, “God, I’ve waited so fucking long for this.”

You can’t even form a coherent thought, so you just grunt.

“I’ve dreamt about this so much,” she continues, breathless words sending shivers down your spine. “Your cock, fuck, it’s just as perfect as I imagined. And now, it’s all mine.”

And then she does it—she sinks down onto you, slow and sweet, her pussy taking you in inch by glorious inch. You groan into her shoulder, your eyes shut as Natty’s tight heat surrounds you. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before; sure there’s been others but something about Natty’s cunt is so intense it’s almost painful.

“So tight,” you grit out, the words torn from your chest like they’re made of glass. She just laughs, low, sultry, and starts to move.

It’s a dance, a rhythm that’s been building between the two of you for what feels like an eternity. She’s rocking her hips back and forth in this torturous grind. Fucking you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, like she needs to make the most of it. Like you’re going to vanish into thin air the second she lets you go.

“I knew you’d feel this good,” Natty sighs into your neck, already surrendering to your cock. “Fuck, I knew it—why did you keep this from me?”

You can’t answer, not really.

You’re too lost in the feel of her, too consumed by the way she’s moving on top of you. Every inch of her body is pressed against yours, and she’s so warm, so alive, that you can’t think of anything but how Natty’s finally letting you in. How she’s letting you make her whole.

But it’s too much. Natty’s cunt, tight and wet, fucking you so slow it’s a fucking crime. Pinning you down, a butterfly on a board spread out, displayed, unable to do anything but take her sweet, sweet punishment. And she’s whispering it in your ear, grinding down, rolling her hips, “Fuck you. Fuck you for keeping this from me,” with every stroke.

She’s doing it on purpose, you’re sure of it. Driving you crazy, making you beg, making you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. Your hips jerk up to meet her, trying to speed things up, to get that friction you need, but Natty just pushes down on your shoulders, keeping you in place.

So you tell her, "This is fucking torture."

Natty just smirks, her hips never stilling. "Is it?" she asks, as if this all isn’t intentional. Like she doesn’t have some grand plan to ensure you never forget the things her cunt can do to you. "Do something about it then."

So, you do.

It takes more effort than you’ll ever admit, but you break her grip on your wrists, grab her hips, and flip her over, sending her sprawling onto the bed, face down.

The squeal from her. It’s music.

How her eyes go wide when you treat her like a ragdoll, how her tits juggle and bounce, smacking the mattress. And when you push down into her, slamming your hips into her ass, how she arches back into you, her back bowing like a fucking violin.

“Yes!” She cries, fucking cheers into the mattress, like she’s been waiting for this—for you to have had enough of her shit and take her without asking. “Yes, yes, yes—”

You hover over her, throb inside her. "Is this what you fucking wanted?"

Natty sighs into the bedsheets, urging her hips against you, begging without words, begging for you to do more.

“You want it rough, baby?”

“Yeah,” Natty says, pushing back against you again, nodding immediately. “If you can.”

Still with the provocations, unable to resist pressing at your buttons.

You grab her hair, yank it back so she’s staring at you, force her to look at you. And you fuck her hard. Fuck her like you’ve wanted to since the first time she walked into your life and decided to make it all about her.

You fill her with deep, long strokes, fill the room with the smacks of your hips colliding against her, of your cock thrusting into her cunt again and again.

She claws at the sheets, trying to find purchase, trying to push back against you. But you’re too strong, too desperate.

You pound into her, impale her with your cock, watch her face twist in pleasure, in pain. You’re fucking her like you’re trying to break her, like she asked. Trying to solve her—how hard can she take it, how deep, how fast.

But Natty won’t give you an answer, she just takes it all—every inch, ever pump into her sopping wet cunt. Just grins and takes every bit of your need, your frustration. A bottomless pit of pleasure, begging for more with every whine, every little noise she makes that’s not quite a scream but is so close that it rattles your brain.

And when you finally let go of her hair, Natty’s licking her lips, and without even a care for what it does to you, she coaxes, “You can do better.”

You don’t know how she can talk right now, how she can even think with your cock so deep inside her, but something about the way she says it makes you want to test the limits of her ability to stay coherent.

But first, there’s the problem of her ass.

“Let’s see about that,” you murmur, dragging your hand down her spine, feeling the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips, and coming to a stop at her perfectly rounded ass. It’s a masterpiece, a work of art, and you’ve always had a bit of an artist’s soul.

You do what comes naturally.

A spank against Natty’s ass. Hard, hard enough to make her yelp.

Again—another slap, another yelp, louder, better.

You keep fucking her, keep spanking her, keep watching red bloom across her cheeks and Natty squirm underneath you. The whines get louder, her cunt gets wetter, but it’s still not enough to dull that smug look on her face.

“Fuck yes,” Natty gasps, raises her ass, presenting it to you like a trophy for you to claim. “I always knew you had it in you.”

You grab her hips harder, your knuckles white, your hand a blur as it connects with her ass. It’s so explicit, the sound of it in the quiet of Natty’s apartment—each spank echoing through the room like a gunshot.

But Natty just takes it, her body jolting with each hit, her cunt tensing and tightening around you.

“God, don’t fucking stop,” Natty sputters, tears of pained pleasure leaking from the corners of her eyes. “You’re using me so good.”

You lean down, kissing hard against her neck, branding her shoulder. You want her to feel you, to remember you. To not be able to ever feel remotely good again without first thinking of you.

"It's your fucking fault, Natty," you growl into her ear. "You drive me mad."

And she laughs, the sound vibrating through her body and going straight to your cock. "Good," she answers, "Good. Be mad. Be angry."

But you’re beyond that now, beyond the point of no return. All that you know is Natty’s cunt, Natty’s ass, Natty’s moans, and Natty’s grin that you’re aching to wipe off her face.

"Fucking hate me if you want," she’s saying, and she can’t seem to stop, "just don’t stop fucking—ah!”

You nearly stop when you realise you’ve finally done it. Finally left Natty out of breath, lost for words. A fucking miracle, really—the kind that makes you feel like a fucking god.

It doesn’t stop her cunt clenching around you, tight as a vice, because even now, Natty’s got some kind of death grip pussy, and she’s using it to fucking kill you.

You whisper in her ear, “You like that?”

Her only response is a breathy, needy little whine, so you spank her again.

And again.

Her cunt tightens. She’s close, so close. You can feel it.

“You like it when I use you, Natty?”

She nods, her eyes screwed shut, her mouth crying into the mattress, a mess of hair and sweat and utter bliss.

“Say it,” you demand, slapping her ass once more, watching as the pain ripples through her. “Say it.”

And Natty does, because she’s a good little whore, because she’s yours now. “Yes, yes, I like it when you use me, when you fuck me like this, when it’s only about you, your cock, your needs, your pleasure—”

God, it feels good to hear her say it, but you still want more than just words. You want her to fucking scream it.

You make the bed shake, knock the headboard against her wall, it’s a competition of what’s going to break first—the frame or her.

“This cunt. Your cunt. I’m going to use it. Fuck it whenever I want.”

But Natty catches you off guard, because that’s what Natty does best. She opens her eyes, looks right into yours, and suddenly she has her voice again: “Whenever I want. You’re going to fucking move in with me.”

You freeze. Your hand mid-spank. Your cock mid-thrust. It throws you entirely off, because, what the fuck?

"You're going to be my boyfriend now," Natty says, wrenching back control, fucking her ass back into you. Stating not asking, leaving no room for argument. "Move in with me, your place sucks anyway."

"You're out of your fucking mind," you start to protest, but she cuts you off with another squeeze of her cunt around you, and now she’s the one fucking you, her hips rolling back and forth in this maddening, sinful way that has you biting down on your tongue to keep from shouting.

"Move in and just fuck me every day," she says, all light and airy, like it’s already been decided, like moments ago you didn’t have her dead to rights. "Morning to night. It would be so fucking nice."

This is real, you know that for sure. It’s not just something she’s saying to get off, not another way to get under your skin. You know it in her voice, she’s deadly serious and suddenly your mind’s racing.

"Come on," Natty purrs, punctuating each word with a slap of her ass against your waist, "You know you want it, why fucking wait?"

She’s not wrong. It makes too much fucking sense to deny. And yet, part of you still can't believe it. That Natty, the girl who's had countless men at her feet, could have any man at her feet, actually wants you. That Natty is underneath you now, eyes glossed over with need, mouth swollen from your kisses, ass cheeks flushed crimson from your palm.

"I'll take such good care of you, baby," she says, unaware that she’s already completely won, unaware that her cunt already has you bending to her will. "Every day, every night.”

You can't help but nod. You're too consumed in her to do anything else. You just let go of everything. The fears, the doubt, the fucking logic.

And Natty says it, the three words that seal your fate—"I'll love you," she cries out, "I'll fucking love you forever if you just keep giving me this fucking cock."

It's like the world stops, like everything you've ever wanted is right there in front of you, wrapped up in Natty's tight fucking body.

You're so close, so fucking close, that you can almost taste it—the sweet release of your orgasm; giving in to Natty’s unbelievably sensational cunt sleeving your cock, pulsing with each thrust, desperate to milk you dry.

There’s nothing left to do but give Natty wants. Fuck her, hammer into her so hard that you’re going to fuck a Natty-shaped hole into the mattress, fucking shatter her bedframe, and then keep drilling her straight through the floor.

And she’s crying out your name, forgetting about everything that isn’t you, isn’t your cock, isn’t the dream of your cum filling her to the brim and spilling out of her cunt every single day for the rest of your fucking lives.

“Are you close, baby? Are you going to cum for me? Please, give it to me, I need it so bad, I need it now, because I'm about to, about to, about to—"

And then it happens.

Fucking destroys her.

It hits. A crescendo that peaks as you bottom out inside her, shaking her to the core. Her cunt spasms about you, her body rises off the bed as if you’re performing a fucking exorcism, and she screams your name so loud it’s only a matter of time before the neighbours come banging on her door.

"Oh my fucking god you—"

Natty gushes around your cock, juices running down your shaft, your balls, and she’s squirting. Oh god, she’s squirting all over the fucking place.

Natty’s body goes rigid, her back arching so much it’s like she’s trying to fold in half, crying, sputtering these words that don't even make sense—until you realise she's speaking an entirely different fucking language.

Not that it matters, because you can tell what she's saying, read it in her body, in the way she's spurting and making a big fucking mess beneath your bodies. Whatever she’s saying sounds utterly depraved, filthy and so, so good to your ears.

It keeps going and going, until she has enough sense to speak your language again, needing to make sure you hear it when she says—"fucking fill me, baby," she whimpers. "Give me everything, all your fucking cum."

And it’s your turn to be hit—like a fucking freight train.

You're cumming, hard and fast and out of fucking nowhere. Your balls tighten, your cock throbs, and you’re flooding Natty’s cunt.

It’s biological, in every cell of your body—like your entire being is coming undone, and the only thing holding you together is Natty, Natty, Natty.

Her body shaking beneath you, her cunt contracting around your cock as wave after wave of cum fills her up.

She’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect, that you can feel every pulse of your orgasm, every drop of your cum spurting into her. You're not sure how long it lasts, how much you give her, but it’s enough to make your muscles shake, enough to knock the architecture right out of your limbs.

"So fucking good, so fucking good," Natty coos. "Fucking finally, finally filling me up so good."

Her moans a lullaby, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with every syllable. You lean down, burying your face in the crook of her neck, your every inhale and exhale ragged as you try to catch your breath. Still twitching inside her, still releasing the last of your cum, and Natty’s just lying there, her body limp, her eyes closed, basking in it all.

"So perfect," she keeps repeating, right up until the very end, “So, so, perfect.”

You collapse on top of her, just lie there shivering together, your face next to hers. She’s got this look on her face, a victorious glow, and you just have to accept it. Yeah, she’s won again, in devastatingly convincing fashion.

For a second, you’re both just that—spent, exhausted, entirely drained. Like you’ve just run a marathon. Or been in a fight. Or both.

Then Natty’s got the nerve to stir, to kiss your cheek with the tenderness of a whisper. Lips softer than you thought possible, given how hard she’s just been fucking you. And that’s it, the moment your body decides it’s had enough of playing dead, enough of lying there like a sack of potatoes.

You roll over, bringing Natty with you, her body curling into yours like she’s been made to fit there. Her head rests on your chest, her legs entwined with yours, and for a moment, you just hold her close.

It feels fucking right.

"Tomorrow," Natty sighs contentedly, her cheek finding home atop your heartbeat.

You blink. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, you're moving in tomorrow." Natty’s deciding for you already, setting the dynamic for the rest of your future. Doing all this with her eyes still shut as she snuggles closer to you. "I'll hire the movers."

You sigh, the weight of the world and Natty's body both feeling surprisingly light. You think about the next few days, the weeks, the years even, with Natty. The idea is so ludicrous, so absurd, that it feels like a fever dream.

But as you hold her, feel her warmth, her unabashed, blatant satisfaction, something inside you shifts. A reframing of the concept of Natty that you hold in your head. The thought of her naked body in your bed, her laughter in your living room, her mess in your kitchen—it doesn’t feel like an intrusion, it feels like home.

"Are you sure?" you ask. A little shaky, a little hopeful.

Natty opens one eye to look at you, a laugh playing on her lips. "Oh, you know I'm going to be the worst fucking roommate ever."

"Yeah, I can see that. But as long as you keep being the best fucking everything else..." Your words trail off into a whisper, your hand tracing idle patterns on her back.

And then she says it again.

"You’re so fucking in love with me."

Natty kisses you hard, deep, her tongue sliding against yours. And you know, you fucking know, that she's right. You are desperately, entirely, so fucking in love with her, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

You laugh, the sound a little desperate, a little wild, and roll her again, pin her down again. A strange feeling rushes through your mind. Like you’re going to be repeating this exact same motion for the next hundred years. And somehow, that doesn’t sound like the worst thought in the world.

Natty squeals, cheers, moans when you settle between her legs.

"Fuck you, Natty."

"Oh, baby," Natty giggles, reaching down between your legs, squeezing you. Once. Twice. Until you're filling her hand once more. "That's what I'm here for."

[thatsouthernstate]

July 18-19, 2023

If I keep holdin' out

Will the light shine through?

Under this broken roof

It's only rain that I feel

I've been wishing out the days

Oh, oh, oh, come back

I have been planning out

All that I'd say to you

Since you slipped away

Know that I still remain true

I've been wishing out the days

Please say, that if you hadn'ta gone now

I wouldn't have lost you another way

From wherever you are

Oh, oh, come back

And these days, they linger on

And in the night, I been waitin' for

The real possibility that I may meet you in my dreams

I go to sleep

If I don't fall apart

Will my memories stay clear?

So you had to go

And I had to remain here

But the strangest thing today

So far away and yet you feel so close

And I'm not gonna question it any other way

There must be an open door for you

To come back

And the days, they linger on

And every night, what I'm waitin' for

Is the real possibility I may meet you in my dream

Sometimes you're there and you're talking back to me

Come the morning, I could swear that you're next to me

And it's okay

It's okay

It’s okay

I'll be here, come back, come back

I'll be here, come back, come back

I'll be here, come back, come back

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Try Me

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: suggestive

"Lan, c'mon..please don't go." You whined tightening your grip on Lando's shirt. "Stay with me"

"Baby, I want to, believe me, I do, but I told you I promised your brother to go out with him tonight. Why don't you come along with us?" He asked holding your cheeks between his hands and leaving a kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Because I want to spend some time alone with you. Why can't he go out with Charles or anyone else?"

"Charles is not feeling well, and besides, it will be suspicious if I turn him down for the second time today." He explained trying to get some sense into you, but you just decided to be a brat today because, well, you just felt like it. You wanted his attention. You needed his attention.

"Fine. Go with him then. I don't care." You pouted crossing your arms and turning your gaze away from him.

"Y/n.." He sighed turning your chin with his finger making you look at him. "I'm trying my best to spend as much time as possible with you here. If Carlos knew I spent the whole day with his sister in her hotel room I'd probably be a dead man right now. So if you want me alive, you gotta let me go now okay?"

Everything Lando said made sense. It's true that Carlos would haunt Lando for the rest of his life if he knew that he had been seeing his 5 years younger sister for over 6 months now. It's also true that Lando is a bit torn between the two of you. He doesn't want any trouble with his best friend, but he also doesn't want to even think about having to stop seeing you.

Lando and you were not in a relationship, well, not officially, you didn't call it a relationship because you were forbidden to him. You had been seeing each other for half a year and both of you knew that there was something more between you, more than just sex although you never put a label on it. The more time passed the more you liked each other and wanted to spend more time together so it got harder to keep it a secret.

"Give me a kiss" He said leaning down to your lips. You hesitate for a second, but give in rolling your eyes which Lando doesn't take very well. "No, no, don't do that."

You ignore him and head towards the bathroom not wanting to wait until he leaves your room. You just wanted to show your dissatisfaction with all your might.

"I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Whatever" You muttered before slamming the bathroom door shut.

Later that night, Lando was texting you just to check up on you, to see what you're doing, to see how you're spending your time without him and you decided to continue being a brat for the rest of the night. Because you just felt like it today.

'Just took a shower. Think I'm gonna go check up on Charles since he's not feeling well'

You replied smirking knowing that you mentioning Charles would completely push his buttons with you tonight. Ever since Carlos introduced you to them, both Charles and Lando have been trying to flirt with you. Only Charles has been doing it directly and Lando was more subtle with it. Lando was always more mysterious about it, that's probably the reason why you were attracted to him and not Charles.

So ever since he got his eyes on you, he hated that Charles was trying to get your attention. He hated that he was still doing it and yet he couldn't do anything about it because you two were a well kept secret.

'Oh really? Carlos and I saw him. He's just fine so you don't have to do that.'

He was replying back to your messages within seconds. You knew he was going crazy about it.

'Well, I'm gonna go check anyway'

Of course you weren't gonna go. You were all ready for bed, but since you didn't get what you wanted tonight, you decided to play with his head a little.

'Y/n..You have nothing to look for in his room'

'I mean it's not like I have a boyfriend if you really think about it. So..I don't think it would be inappropriate, no? '

'I can hear the attitude through the text. Fix it, before I fuck it out of you.'

His text sent shivers through your body. You threw your head back against your pillow sighing and reminiscing the way this morning the bed was squeaking beneath you two.

'I don't think you're gonna do anything about it'

'Oh, try me then'

[jarofstyles]

Pierced Through The Heart

Hello my ducklings! Welcome to Pierced Through The Heart (I’m writing a second part it’s okay 🫶) friends to lovers, piercing artist h, artist Y/N, fluffy and smutty and all the fun stuff!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8.7k

Warnings- smut, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, h has tongue and lip piercings

“Finally! Hey.” An easy smile lit up his face as he watched her walk into his flat. It was always welcome to see her enter like she owned the place- she very well could, if she wanted to.. Looking her over with what he hoped were at least slightly concealed heart eyes, he lifted his hand for her to sit next to him on the well loved sofa. “Where have you been, gorgeous? Off hiding away?”

It had been a bit since they’d gotten together so when she had texted him asking if he was busy tonight, he had scrambled to make sure his place was clean and he could appear as nonchalant as possible when he texted her when he texted her to come over- even if his heart had been in his ass when she gave her ETA. 

“Ugh.” Y/N groaned, stretching her legs out as she took a seat right next to him as he so graciously offered. “I got a huge fucking commission and it’s taken me ages. M’happy about it, don’t get me wrong, but I feel a bit over my head a bit. I needed to get a head start on it so I didn’t fall behind.” Sometimes she did get in her head about work so it made sense, though it didn’t make him miss her any less. 

Harry nodded, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “I get it, babe. S’important and you've got to take care of your work. I just missed having you around.” He pouted playfully, putting his arm around her “But hey, you're here now.”

“Exactly.” She smiled tiredly, leaning her head on his shoulder. His cologne was a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed- as well as the simple concept of human touch. Being locked up in her studio as she chipped away at the commissions often had her forgetting how much both her body and mind actually craved a cuddle or two. “Where's the roommate tonight?”

Harry shrugged, his hand tracing lazy circles on her shoulder.  “He's out. Some party or another. You know how it is with Kev. Always living life on the edge.” He chuckled, but there was a hint of worry in his voice. It wouldn’t be long before he went off the deep end- but that wasn’t a discussion for tonight.

“Yeah...” It was hard. His roommate was a bit much, so it was better they were alone, but she felt bad for feeling that way. “Did you order the food yet? Or were you waiting for me?”

Harry smiled, his fingers tightening slightly on her shoulder in a little squeeze. It felt so good to have her close to him again. Thankfully she was just as happy to be cuddly with him and didn’t seem to be weirded out by her friend’s overt clinginess- or didn’t show it- because he felt slightly pathetic with how much he’d missed her presence. “I ordered already, love. Should be arriving any minute now.” He took a glance down at her, his eyes soft with… something. She couldn’t tell quite what it was, but she’d seen it a few times. “I've got everything set up just the way you like it.” 

“Ugh. You’re a godsend.” Wrapping her arms around him she hugged him tight, feeling a little bit of pressure roll off of her shoulders. He was always so good at things like that. taking care of her, making her feel relaxed, always being one step ahead. “You are the absolute best. I hope you know that.”

Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in return and relishing in the feeling of her initiating the embrace before pulling back. It wasn’t that he wanted to, nor did he fully, but he needed to attempt some semblance of normalcy. “I do my best, babe. Just want to make sure you're taken care of, that's all.” The man smiled down at her, his fingers trailing through her hair. Just couldn’t fucking help it, could he? “And honestly, I love doing things for you.”

Harry had never considered himself much for taking care of people prior, tending to be more of a lone wolf in most aspect of his life, but when he met Y/N it had all… just come out. He loved being the one making sure she was smiling.  Making sure she was well fed, warm, feeling comfortable in his presence. It gave him a sense of purpose, he thinks. The smiles were reward enough, but making her feel comfortable in his company was the ultimate goal. It's why he made sure his roommate wasn’t going to be here tonight. Y/N was too polite to say he made her a little uneasy, but he was attentive to her and receptive to her feelings. Her body language never seemed at ease when he was around-‘so he eliminated that sort of issue

“And that’s why you’re above everyone else.” Y/N mumbled, keeping her eyes closed as he ran his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck. “That feels incredible, by the way.”

Harry blushed to himself, grateful she couldn’t see it right now. It was weird, feeling such a sense of pride wash over him over something so simple. He loved being the one she turned to, the one she felt most comfortable with. Hearing her praise him made him feel like he was genuinely doing something right. “Ah, yeah?”

“Mhm.” The girl nodded. “Tell me about work, though. Any interesting piercings? Anyone pass out? Had that one weird guy come in again? I want to know it all.” She kept her cheek pressed to his shoulder as he continued the motions.

Harry let out a soft laugh, settling into the comfortable rhythm of running his fingers through the silky locks as he tried to think of something interesting enough to tell her. “Well, actually, there was this one guy who came in for his first ear piercing and he freaked the fuck out when he saw the needle. He started shaking and sweating and just about passed out cold on the chair.”

“For an ear piercing?” Y/N let out a choked laugh. “I try not to judge people but… that’s kind of an overreaction, isn’t it?”

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction. It was like her to be sweet about it and not judge, but he did sometimes. She was the only one who knew he really rolled his eyes at shit like that. He leaned down, pressing a small kiss to the crown of her head before pulling back to continue his story. “Yeah, I thought so too. But you should've seen the look on his face when I finally got the needle through.”

“Oi.” She winced. “Yeah, M’sure that was a joy to deal with.” Sarcasm laced her tone. “You have loads more patience than me. It’s why I work with as few people as possible.” Retail and service has never bode well with her, and when she had fallen into her own artwork she had counted her blessings that it meant she didn’t have to work with people day to day. 

Harry smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he listened to her voice. He loved her sarcasm, her wit, her everything, but he tried to keep that sort of fondness off of his face the best he could. “That's part of why I like bein’ close with you, actually. You're low-maintenance and always so easy to be around. A little grumpy, but s’cute.”

“Grumpy?” Her nose wrinkled, but she couldn’t deny it. The girl did her absolute best to be as sweet as she could but one of the things that made her tick was stupidity, and that was something people had to deal with in abundance when they worked in those industries. She was a little bit grumpy when it came to people. “I…wish I could deny those allegations, but I can’t. But in my defense, people shouldn’t be asking so many stupid questions. I worry more and more that people lose common sense as the days go by.”

Harry laughed, pulling her a little tighter against his side. "Grumpy and worried about the loss of common sense, huh? That's my girl." He paused, his fingers still gently fiddling with the ends of her hair. "But even with all that, you're still the most comfortable person for me to be around."

“Really?” She looked at him in surprise. Her guess would have been maybe Mitch, or Connor. Not her. “How come? I mean, not that I’m not extremely flattered and have to calm my ego at this moment because I can literally feel it growing out of my ears.” 

Harry smiled, feeling his tummy twist slightly as he looked down at her, "Because you're just... you, ya know? You're honest, and a bit grumpy-which we already established as cute-, and you don't put up with any of my shit." It was refreshing to have someone who cared about you enough to call you out on shit, and that’s what he needed. It was an interesting juxtaposition to see her soft doe-like eyes looking up at him with her head tilted, telling him that he’s absolutely ‘full of shit’. Harry had been known to be a bit arrogant at times and she had taken that level way down, in a good way. "And you're the only person who can make me laugh without even trying."

“H… you’re gonna make me blush.” She playfully batted at his chest, but felt the swirl of warmth in her tummy. It was a true compliment all things considered. Harry seemed open, but he kept people at an arm's length usually. She had noticed that he didn’t do it with her which she had always special, but hearing it out loud made her feel even more so.

Harry's eyes softened slightly as he looked at her. "You're the only one who can see past all the layers and shit and just get me, you know?" He leaned in just a bit, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "And I fucking love it." 

It was that moment, she would come to reflect, where the tension started. The kiss to the cheek, the compliments. It had started the loaded tension, the sexual undertone for the rest of the night. 

Later on, after the food had been eaten and settled in their bellies and the second episode had ended and the third had begun, she realized how close she had gotten to him through the night. Her legs over his thighs, his thumb tracing over her knee. His eyes were on the screen giving her a chance to observe his beautiful fucking face for a moment without feeling the normal intimidation she would from him staring right back at her. The lip ring, the sharp curve of his jaw, his pretty mouth, the slope of his nose- a modern Apollo. It had been no secret that he was good looking but it was harder to ignore tonight. It was always hard to ignore just how beautiful the man was, but feeling it now, seeing it up close and personal felt like a privilege. Her body flushed when she noticed his eyes on her- he caught her staring, his eyebrow raised at her, but didn’t say a word.

Harry moved his hand from her knee, tracing his fingers up her thigh slowly before resting it there again. He leaned in closer, his lips curling as he whispered to her. "You like what you see, love? Wanna take a picture? I’ll pose for you, even. Let the pretty artist do her thing. Think I’d be a good muse?" The hint of tease was in there but he was waiting for her reaction. Feeling his own want for her bubbling over, simmering under his fingertips.

“You’re really handsome, H. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that, but you are.” Ever the blunt person, Y/N didn’t shy away from telling him that he was beautiful. That was the god’s honest truth. Harry was factually gorgeous and she had always thought so, as did most human beings whenever they went out. He commanded a room without even trying, attracting eyes like magnets- only his being the opposite pole. 

Harry's smirk grew wider at her words, his hand still resting on her thigh. "Handsome, huh?" He repeated, his voice huskier than she had heard it before. It sent a bit of a zing to her tummy because- that was hot. There was a quick glance at the TV before looking back at her, his eyes locking onto hers. "You're pretty fucking stunning yourself, you know that?"

The air between them was static, the tension thick and palpable. Harry's hand on her thigh was a constant reminder of his presence, of his touch. Her legs were draped over his, their bodies close, touching in a way they had before a million times but it felt… different. The charge was there. He could feel it and he was sure she could too. What exactly changed, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps the heart had grown fonder over their bit of time apart, or perhaps the dam was finally overflowing and breaking against the weight of trying to hold back desires hidden behind the walls- either way, he was going to find out. The sound of the TV in the background was barely audible over the pounding of their hearts, but he could feel it in his throat.

Harry had been pining for her for what felt like an eternity. He'd watch her from afar, his heart aching with every smile she shared with someone else. The only true explanation he could come to was that he loved her, he realized. He had loved her for a long time now. He ached for her, his heart hurting every time she mentioned dating apps or hookups in the past because fuck, he wanted to be the one she was talking about, the one she was laughing with. He wanted to be her world, her everything. No one would expect the man to be a romantic, but he was. Maybe she’d brought it out of him, but he felt completely at her mercy and she had no idea just how tightly wound he was around her tiniest finger.

“You think so?” She felt a little shy with that compliment. It wasn’t often that she got like that, but Harry had a way of pulling it out of her. “Stunning is a big word, but thank you.” Licking over her lip, she looked down to his tattooed wrist, running her finger over the ink. “I’m glad you invited me to hang out tonight.”’

Harry's heart flipped at her shy reaction. Damn, she was so fucking cute. He wanted to lean in, brush his lips over hers and take a taste of her. The way she was looking at his tattoos, running her finger over them was driving him crazy. The sensation was something he’d dreamt about, post coitial bliss with her hands all over him in the best way. He wanted to feel all of it, all of her, everywhere

"You're more than fucking stunning, you know that?" Harry's voice was raspy as he spoke, volume low as if trying to keep it private for them even if they were already alone. He shifted in his seat, his hand on her thigh flexing a little as he leaned in closer to her.

Her heart stuttered in her chest as she looked at him, throat tight. She had an idea what was happening but she hadn’t anticipated it actually being any reality, let alone one that would be happening tonight. Part of her wanted to shy away but she couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t let her. Eyes curious and round, her head tilted in question as he looked right back at her.

Harry noticed the way she was looking at him, head falling back slightly as he let it a light groan. "Fuck, don't look at me like that, please." He begged. He couldn't take it, seeing her so nervous and shy. 

“Like what?” Her eyes widened slightly but she made no move to shift away from him. What was she doing? What was happening? And why did she want him to keep going, keep touching her, why did she feel like she was lightheaded from the attention he was paying to her? Had he always looked at her like this?

Harry's eyes were locked onto hers, his gaze intense. "Like you're confused. Like you don’t know how fuckin’ gorgeous I find you." He admitted, his hand on her thigh trembling slightly. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, you're fucking killing me."

Warm fingertips trailed over his wrist and down his hand, brushing over his wrists and back up as she waited for him to react. The anticipation was killing her, sitting perfectly still as she decided to wait. to let him take the lead. “Why am I killing you?” She was playing dumb. The sexual tension had risen up, her skin hot from it, but she wanted to hear it from him.

Harry sucked in a breath as she trailed her fingertips over his wrist, his heart racing in his chest. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to tell- had to show her. To let out everything that was building up inside of him. "Because I want you so goddamn bad." His voice was hoarse, laced with fervor, his eyes pleading with her to understand. He couldn't help the way he felt, the way he had always felt about her. "I've wanted you for so long, been pining for you.. it's driving me insane."

“You have?” Her head tilted, hair falling over her shoulder as he dropped that bomb on her. Y/N hadn’t had any real idea that he had wanted her, had always sort of thought maybe he just liked that she was easy to hang out with and that they’d meshed together really well, but the knowledge that he was pining over her sent the hoard of butterflies into her stomach. “How.. for how long?”

Harry's jaw clenched, knowing it was time to confess. There was no use in hiding it anymore, even if she was going to reject him. It was about to burst from his seams, leak from his lips regardless. "Since we’ve met," He admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I’ve been fucking useless over you. Used t’watch you, wonder what it would be like to have you, to hold you, to kiss you." He looked at her with desperate eyes.

"I'd see you talking to that asshole ex of yours, and I'd just want to fucking rip him apart and keep you all to myself. Knew I could treat you better, make you feel better, give you all the shit he couldn’t. Heard you cry too many times over people that aren’t worth it and I can give you all the shit you need. I know I can." He admitted, his face flushing with anger and jealousy. "I've tried to ignore it, to move on, but I can't."

"You have no idea how many times I've imagined telling you, but I didn’t want to fuck things up between things up between us. You’ve felt safe with me. I didn’t want you to feel like I’ve been friends with you as some fucking attempt to get into your pants because that isn’t it. I’ll be your friend regardless, but I just need a shot. Please. Just give me one chance t’see." Harry felt a little pathetic for his approach but he didn’t have much control over it. It was all in her hands now.

Her breathing hitched as she listened, her cunt getting slightly wet at the way he looked at her, at how he spoke. losing that bit of a veil he had over him, showing her how he had felt. Finally, It felt like that part she couldn’t figure out was coming to the light. “Harry…” she breathed, feeling his hand reach for her jaw. It was welcomed, his warm fingertips tilting her head up.

She didn’t know he had that in him, but she really fucking liked it. 

Gripping her chin firmly, his thumb brushing over her pouted lower lip as he looked into her eyes. "Shut up and kiss me." He commanded, leaving no room for argument. Harry didn't wait for her to respond. Leaning in, his free hand came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her close to him as he crushed their lips together. It was rough, passionate and intense, a hunger she hadn't sensed from him before- and she strangely loved it.

Harry’s lips were demanding, claiming hers as if she belonged to him. His tongue pushed past her lips, tangling with hers in a heated kiss that left her gasping. He kissed her like he was starving for her, like he hadn't eaten in days and she was the only thing that could satisfy him. His lips were bruising, hungry, insistent, molding against hers with a fierce intensity that took her breath away. The tip of his tongue delved into her mouth, probing, tasting, owning, his moan vibrating against her lips as he deepened the kiss.

She melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she returned it with equal fervor. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him close as she surrendered to the overwhelming hunger he stirred within her. She whimpered into the kiss, her body trembling with need, her heart racing in her chest.

Y/N could feel just how much he meant it, how much he had yearned for her. She could taste it on his tongue as he held her to his body, resting her on his thighs. He was greedy with her, taking and taking and taking- but she didn’t mind at all. If anything she flowed into it, melting into the feeling.

The way she fed into the kiss, so willingly and completely, made his heart race and his head spin. He could taste her surrender, her desire, her longing for him and he drank it in eagerly, as if he could never get enough of her. Her body melted into his embrace as her lips parted further, inviting him in deeper. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, her hands gripping his hair almost painfully, but he hardly cared.

Her body was pliant, her breathing uneven, as he continued to delve into her mouth. He could feel the way she shifted on his lap, her legs bracketing his hips as she slowly began to move herself against him.

A low groan rumbled in his chest, the sound almost primal as he felt her shifting on his lap. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard and it only served to drive him further into madness. He wanted more of her, all of her, every single part of her. “Baby…” The nickname fell out of her mouth as a breathless sigh. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

He pulled back from the kiss slightly, his breath coming in ragged pants as he stared down at her. Her eyes were glazed over with desire, her lips swollen and so prettily puffy from the intensity of their kissing- he wanted this to be the state of them every fucking day. Why was this only the first time he’d gotten the privilege of getting to see this? "I can't... I can't think straight when you're like this,"

Uneven breaths filtered the room, the TV show long forgotten behind them. She, too, was unable to think straight as she looked into his eyes. It was gorgeous, he was fucking gorgeous, looking fucked out just from a kiss alone. “Huh?” Y/N was hazy herself. This wasn’t what she had expected from coming over tonight but she had no complaints. Her mouth felt like it was buzzing and her clit was throbbing as she sat against him, his large hands keeping her still otherwise she’d continue her ministrations on top of him.

Harry reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a gentle touch. "Just looking at you, baby, makes me lose my damn mind. I need you to focus on me for a second, okay?" He swallowed hard as he tried to calm himself down. "You're fuckin’ stunning. Driving me crazy, really fucking crazy. The way you move against me... I need more of it." The man sighed out, his fingers trailing down her throat gently, petting her.

Harry's mind was swimming with need, a deep and intense desire to have her, to make her his and his alone. He wanted to feel her body pressed against his, the heat rolling off of her in waves. He wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to taste her. “But I don’t want t’just fuck you. I want you. Want you to be my girl.”

Holding her eyes with his own, he thumbed over her swollen bottom lip and watched as it snapped back to place as he released it. “I want t’do the whole thing. The dates, the flowers, everything you want. I don’t want to ruin this friendship but fuck, darling… I just want you to be mine.” He swallowed thickly, watching her reaction. “I’m willing to work for that title… but I can’t hold back anymore. Can’t keep pretending that I’m not dying t’hold you and kiss this perfect fucking mouth.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. Her cheeks were hot under the skin, chest rising and falling with every deep breath she took. It felt like he’d stolen her breath and her thoughts as he confessed to her, making her blink at him a few times. She looked completely lost in his words and the way he looked at her as he spoke them. The air around was thick with tension and desire.

There wasn’t a thought that needed to be had to confirm that she wanted him back, though. She always adored him, but he’d never seemed like the relationship type. Never showed his interest in the way she had anticipated. It had taken her by surprise, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t happy about it.

Without thinking, she reached up and cupped his face, her thumb brushing over his berry hued lips and running over the piercing as she searched his eyes. She could see the raw emotion in them, the way he was barely holding on to his control. And it broke her heart, in a way, because she was so completely aware of how painful it could be to hold back emotions for someone. “I wish you hadn’t hidden it for so long.” Softly, she used her other hand to push back his hair. “I can’t lie and say this isn’t a surprise… but I am more than willing to give it a shot.” Indulging in him, she leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Especially when you kiss me like you just did.”

She deepened the kiss, parting her lips for him and wrapping her arms around his neck in a desperate attempt to get closer to him. Harry groaned against her mouth, pulling her flush against him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

That was the answer he needed. He had imagined her rejection a million times, her acceptance a few times more, but nothing could compare to the actual feeling of it. Having her in his lap and the overwhelming giddy feeling working its way through his limbs as he tried to show it through his actions.

The kiss was needy, full of the  longing and passion that had been building up over the months. He was rough and gentle at the same time, leaving her dizzy as he trailed kisses from her lips to her jaw. “Good. So it’s settled… no more silly dates with useless boys. You’re gonna give me a shot to show you just how much I can appreciate you.”

“Mhm.” Y/N nearly purred, rolling her head to the side as he kissed over her skin and down to her throat. It had always been sensitive for her, but feeling the cool brush of his lip ring, and then the metallic ball of his tongue piercing brush her hot skin had her shiver in his arms.

Harry smirked, knowing he was getting to her head. His hands roamed her body, pulling her in even closer as he sucked on a soft spot right under her ear. God, she was fucking soft wherever he touched her, he couldn’t get enough of her. He sucked hard on the spot, his nose brushing against her skin as he inhaled her scent deeply. His other hand came up to wrap around her throat, applying just a bit of pressure as he tilted her head to the side, giving him better access to her neck.

“Fuck.” Y/N felt her second heartbeat between her thighs, the strong hand and thick fingers holding her still. Positioning her where he wanted her. His rings added a similar sensation to his piercings, the mix of hot and cold working her up.

He hummed at her response, his hand tightening around her throat just slightly as he moved down to bite at her collarbone. A low growl rumbled in his chest, feeling the way her body trembled under him as he pressed a kiss over the racing pulse on her neck. Harry pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his own dark and intense as he spoke in a low, rough tone. "M’gonna mark you up, m’love. Every inch of your skin is gonna have my fingerprints, my bites, my kisses. You're gonna be my girl, and everyone's gonna fuckin’ know it."

“Yeah.” She hummed, grinning as his hand loosened slightly on her throat. As toxic as it may be, she ate up the possessive words, wanting to let him do that very thing.

Harry let out a low, pleased noise at her words, his hips rocking forward as he pressed against her heat. He kissed her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth as he gripped her hip with one hand and reached down to undo his pants with the other. His poor cock needed to breath, aching with need as he finally got her exactly where he wanted her.

"How do you like to be touched, baby?" He whispered into her ear, before sucking on the lobe gently and nipping it, smirking to himself as he felt her shudder in his arms. He pulled back to look at her, his eyes shining. “Hm? I want t’know. Want t’make you the happiest fuckin’ girl. Can do anything y’want.”

“I…” She had trouble finding her words. This was not at all the sort of thing she’d anticipated coming over tonight, but she was loving every second of it. Harry… wanting her? It seemed like it was one of those dreams, one of those things that sounded nice in theory but would never happen- and yet here he was. Asking how she liked being touched because he wanted to be the one doing it. “I like when you held my throat… and when you bit me. And when you held my jaw.”

Harry's lips quirked into a half grin and he nodded. He pulled back to look at her, his thumb tracing over her jaw where he had just held it so gently. He leaned down and bit the skin there lightly, feeling her shiver under him. Her reaction was immediate and visceral. The moment his teeth sank into her jaw, she let out a soft, needy whine, her eyes fluttering closed as her body relaxed into his grip. Her leg tightened around his waist, her free hand reaching up to gently touch the spot where he'd bitten her.

Her whole body seemed to melt against him, her back arching as she pressed herself closer, seeking more of that delicious pain. A soft, high-pitched noise escaped her lips, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, as she tilted her head to the side, offering him better access to her neck as she felt his nose drag down the side of it.

She was completely lost in the sensation, her mind going blank as all her focus shifted to the feeling of his teeth on her skin. Her fingers curled into his shirt, her nails digging in slightly as she held on for dear life, her other hand still resting on the spot he'd bitten, gently massaging it. “That feels so good.” She exhaled, the feelings washing over her. “I love how you touch me, H.”

Harry smiled against her skin, his teeth grazing over her jaw as he spoke. "I love touching you too, sweetheart. You're so fuckin’ responsive, for me.” He kissed the spot he'd bitten, soothing it with his lips before pulling back to look at her again.

His bulge rocked between her thighs, his hand moving to cup her face. She could feel his want for her, his affection. Harry hadn’t been joking in the slightest that he wanted to be hers, and that was something she hadn’t experienced before.

"You still haven't let me make you mine, properly," Harry said, a hint of a pout on his lips. "I want all of you, Y/N." He moved himself against her again, the cock in his pants rubbing against her aching cunt. "Are y’gonna let me have you?"

“Y-Yeah.” She nodded, shy smile on her face. There was nothing she wanted more in the moment, actually. 

 “Don’t want you to regret it, though.” Harry murmured, face sobering. As much as he wanted her, he wanted to make sure this was what she truly wanted above anything else. “We don’t have to go too far if you don’t want to.” 

“I wanna.” Y/N hadn’t been fucked in a while, no, but she trusted him. Hell, he’d waxed near poetry about how he wanted to be hers and vice versa. There was no one night stand needed to get off. Harry could do it- and if the things she had heard were true, he could do it very well.  “Want you to fuck me.”

Harry's eyes widened at her confession, his hand lingering on her cheek for a moment before he let go. "Well," he said, swallowing thickly. "I can certainly do that."

He was practically vibrating with excitement, his heart racing in his chest as he held her close. The thought of finally being able to claim her as his own, to be the one to make her feel good and cry out his name, was almost too much for him to handle. "I've wanted to be with you for so fuckin’ long." Harry murmured against her skin, his breath warm against her. "I've thought about you every night as I've fallen asleep, imagining what it would be like to finally have you, Y/N. You’ve got no idea"

“Then have me.” Y/N could hardly believe it, but she needed it just as badly now. Her body was hot and achy and her cunt was wet and felt so empty- Harry would fix it. He was the only one that could. “Touch wherever you want. I trust you.”

The declaration of trust meant more to him than she would probably ever realize. It gave him the confidence to go for it. Harry's hand immediately moved between her legs, rubbing her through the fabric of her pants. The man groaned as he felt how wet she was, his fingers tracing over her cunt as he breathed against her lips. "Oh, fuck, baby." he whispered in awe.

“Take them off.” her plea was a little whiny but it seemed to make him happy with how he smiled against her lips. “Please… I want to feel you touch me with nothing stopping it. Need it.”

Harry's smile was wicked as he reached for the waistband of her pants, quickly adjusting her so he could tug them down her legs along with her underwear. There was very little time to waste when it came to getting to have her. This had been his wet dream, his fantasy, and he wasn’t going to waste it. He sat back up and looked at her, his eyes roaming over her bare pussy before he knelt down in front of her with a husky groan.

“What?” She felt shy with him staring at her, the most vulnerable she had ever felt in front of him. The hunger in his eyes was visible and she knew he liked what he saw, but his quiet observation was unnerving. She watching the silver glint of his piercing glint as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, strong, ringed hands gently pressing her thighs open and black polished fingers digging into her skin.

“M’sorry, baby.” he crooned. “Don’t mean to stare, but…. I’ve been waiting so long. M’not even sure this is real.” Any bit of control was completely gone. He leaned forward, pressing his face against the plush of her lower tummy, inhaling her scent before he looked up at her with those starving eyes again. "Fuck, you smell so good. You’ve no idea." he murmured before placing a kiss to her mound. “Wanna eat you up.”

Where she found the nerve, she had no clue- but the moment she had it, she let it go. “Do it.”

Her words were the last thing he needed before he gave into her- happily. Harry's hands gripped her thighs greedily as he buried his mouth between her legs, indulging in what he’d been wanting to taste for ages. He lightly kissed over her clit and nuzzled her as her felt her jolt at the feeling, letting her settle into it for a moment before getting into it. The cool metal ball of his tongue piercing tapping over her clit had her shivering, a shaky gasp leaving her swollen lips as her eyes fell closed. 

It was overwhelming, to say the least. Harry's tongue felt hot and slick as it lathed over her pussy- the contrast in temperatures between him and her sensitive flesh making her squirm. He explored her, leaving nowhere untouched as she gripped the cushion next to her, taking full advantage of his permission to taste before he settled into a slow, gentle rhythm of lapping at her cunt. The man was good- almost too good.

She could feel herself sinking into the cushion beneath her as he ate her out, his tongue dipping into her pussy and licking at her entrance before swirling around her clit. His hands were gentle on her thighs, rings cool to the touch and fingertips digging into her skin as he pushed them open wider for him. He groaned against her, eyes peering up at her.The vibrations against her pussy sent tremors through her body.  “Look at me, baby. Let me see your pretty eyes.”

The view was something else completely. Looking down at him, she felt herself nearly lose it altogether. It didn’t seem fair to have someone look that good doing such a filthy act, but it only seemed to make perfect sense for him. Harry exuded sex, and his sensual nature had always made her a bit curious in the past- but this was other worldly. His nose rubbed against her clit, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh, hair a mess, as hazy, dark green peered up at her from where they were so comfortably buried between her legs. Like they were made to be there.

Her hands fell to his hair, back arching as his tongue brushed her entrance again, breathing hitched as he nuzzled into her cunt, not caring about any mess as he pressed his tongue into her, nose brushing her clit with every movement. “Oh, fuck.” Her voice was a choked mess as she looked down at him in shock, not at all expecting this out of him. She should have, she should have known he was a filthy fuck, but she’d apparently unleashed something in him.

His hair was a wild mess as she gripped it, pulling him closer as he devoured her. He made happy noises against her, moving up to momentarily suck on her clit before plunging his tongue back inside her. She could feel his scruff scratching against her inner thighs, a rough sensation that made her clench around his tongue. It was animalistic, desperate in a way she had never felt before.

Harry hadn’t felt this deprived in his life. He hadn’t liked a woman this much before either, hadn’t wanted her this badly. He needed some relief, especially with her rocking her damn cunt against his face. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he pulled his sweats down, tugging his embarrassingly hard cock out and started to stroke. His hips rocked in time with the rhythm of his tongue, hand moving faster as she arched her back, pulling him closer. He could feel her getting closer, body trembling beneath him.

“H…” she panted, gently tugging him away from her cunt. “Inside me. I want to cum with you inside me.”

Harry groaned, a whine slipping from his lips as he pulled himself away from her pussy, a string of saliva connecting his tongue to her entrance before breaking away.

“M’not done with that. You taste so fucking good.” He mumbled, leaning himself up. His hands were gentle as he adjusted her to make them both comfortable. “Gonna make it good for you, baby. I promise.”  Another time he would take his time, make love to her properly. Spend hours with her in a bed when they both had patience- but right now? He knew the both of them needed relief, and they needed it now. Taking a shaky breath, he positioned the tip of his cock at her entrance, the head pressing against her soaked lips. He looked up at her, eyes wild as he pushed forward, the tip popping inside her. He let out a satisfied groan as he sunk himself in to the hilt, her tight pussy squeezing him the way he knew she would. 

She gasped, the way her walls closed in tighter on him as he sunk to the base was a small slice of heaven for him. He closed his eyes, riding out the pleasure of it for a moment. He could feel her body reacting in kind, legs trembling. “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?” He looked down at her, making sure she didn’t have any discomfort on her face. 

“I’m okay.” She sighed, gripping onto his forearm. “I’m so okay. I want it all. You can give it to me.” Lightly dragging her nails down his skin, she knew she could handle it. It’s how she liked it- how she wanted him to give it to her. Y/N wanted Harry exactly how he wanted to give it because she had full confidence he was going to give it to her good. 

“Alright, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on t’me then.” He pulled out barely, just the head remaining before thrusting himself back in, making her jolt under him. Deep- he was so deep, making her gasp as the pleasured fullness was felt to its extent. This was exactly what they needed. His hands grabbed her hips and he started moving in earnest, every thrust baring his need for her to cum around him. “Don’t have to hold back with me, sweet girl. Gonna make sure you feel good all night.”

She was a vision of beauty, legs spread wide as he fucked into her, the sound of their skin thudding together echoing through the room. Tears of pleasure slowly pooled in her waterline as he fucked her deep, his balls slapping against her ass with every thrust. Slow, deep, passion. It was palpable. 

Not overly rough, no. Not at all. It was hot and heavy in the best possible way, making her eyes roll back. He wasn’t using her as a toy, but showing her how much he wanted her with his body. There was no mistaking it. Harry meant what he said. He wanted her, and he was speaking through his body. She heard him loud and fucking clear. Hopefully, he was listening back. 

The room was filled with the sounds of their sex, the slap of skin, the wet squelch of his cock sinking into her over and over. She was shaking, her nails digging into his biceps as he pounded into her, the force of his thrusts making the aged sofa squeak. If it was any other scenario, he’d be cautious- but he was finally getting the woman he had been dreaming of around his cock.

Her whole body was a trembling mess, her breasts bouncing with each thorough thrust. Her back arched off the couch as he hit that sweet spot inside her, her walls clamping down on him like a vice. She let out a mewl, a saccharine call of his name as the intense pleasure washed over her. “Harry- Harry if you keep going M’gonna cum.” It was a frantic warning. Her mind couldn’t figure out if it was too much or not, but she didn’t want it to stop.

He couldn't help himself, his thrusts became even more urgent as he felt her walls fluttering around him, signaling her impending orgasm. He grabbed her face, his thumb pressing against her lips, shushing her as he fucked into with a blissed out smile. "Shh, m’dream girl, let it happen. Cum on my cock. Been dreaming of you for ages.

Let me have it." 

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled moan of his name as her orgasm hit her. White hot pleasure hitting her blood as the tears left her waterline when her eyes squeezed shut, she dug her nails into him with a garbled whimper. Her body shook, her pussy fluttering around his cock as he continued to fuck her through it, prolonging her pleasure.

Harry leaned down, resting his forehead against hers as he felt his own climax building within him- especially with the feel of her nails digging into him and her own orgasm. "Fuck.. You're so fuckin’ perfect, so good, I'm gonna cum.." He whispered his final warning, groaning against her skin.

“Please.” Y/N whispered, dragging her nails up his arms and over his shoulders. “Give it to me. M’on the pill.” Her lips brushed his ear. “I want to feel it. You’ve been so nice to me tonight and I love it. Cum for me how you want. Anywhere you w-want.” 

Harry was a mass of frayed nerve endings as he neared his release. His entire body felt like it was buzzing, his heart beating fast against his chest. The build up of pleasure in his balls and the slick feeling of her pussy made him feel as if he was on cloud nine.

His muscles tensed, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. He was so close. He could feel his orgasm building, coiling in the base of his spine, ready to explode- but her sensual coos into his ear and fingers down arms had been the breaking point. "I'm gonna cum so fucking hard," he gritted out, his voice strained with effort. “M’cumming for you, baby. G-Gonna give it all t’you and make you m-mine.” His words stuttered as he felt it start. His vision started to blur and his breath hitched in his throat as he thrust into her one final time, holding himself deep inside her as his orgasm ripped through him. His vision went white, his mind going blank as he emptied himself into her, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum.

Catching his breath, he let himself sag into her as he felt her hand dragging up and down his back. Mutual comfort as she held him, helping him through his own orgasm as she wrapped a leg around him, making sure he felt steady as he checked in on her. His ears were sorta ringing in a good way, but he was chuffed. “Okay?” He cupped her cheek, stroking her heated skin. At her nod, he grinned widely. “Yeah? Okay- okay, good. Jus’, need to make sure you’re good. Hold on. Need t’make us more comfortable. I’ll clean up in a second.” 

Ever so carefully, Harry pulled out of her, his softening cock slipping from her sensitive pussy. He cooed at the slight hiss she let out, apologizing as he grabbed a few tissues clumsily from the coffee table and wiped her the best he could as gathered her close on his lap, cradling her in his arms as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, anywhere he could reach without breaking the tender moment. “That’s my girl. Fuck… you’re everything I want.”

Y/N had pushed away her crush on him when they’d first met, especially when they started to become closer friends- but this had been beyond her expectations. Harry had given her the fuck of her life all while claiming his devotion to her- something no one else had done before. She was borderline giddy as his hands stroke her, the rushed sex leaving their tops on and a true nod to the frantic passion they’d felt once the kissing had started.

A giggle left her throat as she peeled her eyes open to look at his flushed face and swollen lips, his eyes burning with an emotion she couldn’t place as she ran her hands over his shoulders. “We probably look so silly.” Harry’s pants around his ankles and hers off completely, both with just a shirt on.

Harry chuckled softly, his breath ghosting along her cheek as he spoke, his voice low and raspy from the intensity of their just-past fucking. The way she was looking at him was almost better than her moans had been.

“Silly, hmm?” Harry’s eyes took on a mischievous edge as his fingers traced the curve of her waist. He sat up on the couch, dragging her with him so she was straddling his lap. His roommate be damned, he wasn’t too concerned about the mess on the couch right now.

“Mhm.” Her smile faded into a soft grin. “We were a little eager, huh?”

Eager was an understatement, but Harry loved how cute she looked in this moment. The way she was sitting on top of him, all breathless and relaxed—it made him want to do it all over again, if only to see that look on her face.

Harry’s hand wandered to the back of her neck, his thumb gently tracing circles against her skin as he spoke. “I am eager.” He sobered slightly. “I meant what I said. I want you. I promise I’d be the best person you’ve ever dated. I’ll worship you every day and make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips, his eyes still locked on hers. “I’ll make you laugh every day, be there for you through everything. And when it comes to the bedroom,” Harry paused, grinning slyly.

“Hush.” Y/N giggled, placing their lips back together for a longer kiss, slow and smooth as she pulled back. their lips made a soft clicking sound as she rubbed her nose against his. “So if you want to be my boyfriend…. does that mean you’ll give me free piercings?”

Harry let out a chuckle, his arms wrapping around her waist as he hugged her close. “Free piercings, exclusive attention, really bad jokes, and a love that’ll make your heart skip a beat. That’s the deal, love. But you have to promise me one thing in return.”

“Hm… what’s that?”

Harry would give her the world if she asked for it, probably, but he did have one stipulation. “No more waiting between commissions t’see you. You can set up here, or I can come see you after work. M’a little clingy, if you couldn’t tell. Deal?” “Deal.”

[endlessthxxghts]

Best I Ever Had

Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k

Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!

A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)

masterlist | notifs blog

It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town. 

Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason. 

He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you. 

You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction. 

And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it. 

You are worth it. 

Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.” 

And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you. 

“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge. 

He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?” 

“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up. 

“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you. 

You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of. 

“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.

Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you. 

The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts. 

And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements. 

“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter. 

“I said—” 

He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm. 

“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you. 

Well, apparently not everyone. 

You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.

You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back. 

The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips. 

Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him. 

You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines. 

You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him. 

The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music goin’ unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life. 

Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.” 

He scrambles without looking back.

“Oh my God, baby.”

“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”

“Just one more second, baby.”

“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you. 

“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take. 

A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now. 

“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom. 

Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming. 

You can do so much better than that.

“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless. 

Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself. 

Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking. 

“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”

All questions must be answered. 

Fuck. 

“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you. 

You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?” 

Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics. 

You quirk your eyebrow at him. 

“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure. 

You’re silent for a beat. Then—

“You’re lying.”

Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries. 

Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here. 

You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.

“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”

Joel audibly gulps. 

Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it. 

“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him. 

“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to. 

You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout. 

“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him. 

“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you. 

Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”

You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming. 

You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze. 

“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”

“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again. 

Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend. 

“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”

His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces. 

Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest. 

“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.

“Did I go too far?”

He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.

“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”

A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”

“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 

You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks. 

Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?” 

“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”

I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

[prael]

Not Quite Home

Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry

Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut

words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist

She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?

All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.

And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.

Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.

"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"

She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."

"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"

Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"

Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.

"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."

"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."

Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.

You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.

"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.

You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.

"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.

You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex. 

She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed. 

For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.

So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.

She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.

Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.

It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.

It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.

Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.

And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.

That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.

"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.

"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.

"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."

You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.

There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.

"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.

And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.

The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.

"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.

As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.

[celestialowlbear]

Could I request NSFW headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Halsin finding out his female s/o who has a praise kink?

NSFW Headcanons for Halsin, Gale, Astarion, & Wyll

Pairings: Halsin x Fem!Reader, Gale x Fem!Reader, Astarion x Fem!Reader, Wyll x Fem!Reader

Summary: BG3 boys realizing you like praise in bed.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Praise. Soft/romantic smut. Established relationship. Some pet names (darling, love, good girl). PiV sex, cunnilingus. Reader/Tav not described. Bulleted list.

WC: 2,000 (around 500 words per character)

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! I had fun with this. It went in a diff direction that I initially intended but I hope you enjoy!

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

Halsin 🐻

Halsin had a way of instantly making you surrender to him, your body malleable under his strong and practiced hands, knowing exactly what your body needed.

He currently had you under his large body, his lips at your ear whispering sweet nothings as one finger rubbed perfect circles on your aching clit.

“That’s it…such a good girl for me, my heart.”

Halsin was nothing BUT praise, always saying how perfect you were, but something about the way “good girl” deeply rumbled in your ear switched something in your brain, your body automatically arching up to him.

You were desperate for more, desperate to prove just how good you were for him.

Halsin almost seemed surprised by your reaction, chuckling as he gazed down at your flushed face.

“Does that feel good, my flower? Do you want more?”

Oh, he was teasing you now.

You let out a sharp gasp as his finger probed your entrance, not quite giving you what you needed.

“My perfect flower, you are radiant like this. My good, good girl.”

You gripped his massive shoulders, trying to lift your hips, needing his finger, his cock, anything inside you.

Desire pulsed through your body, his praise turning your blood into magma.

“Halsin…please…need you.”

“You’re so wet for me, I can smell your want.”

Halsin removed his hand from your sex, earning a frustrated whine from you.

“You’ve been so good for me, my heart. You deserve more than just my fingers, do you not?” Halsin eyed you, his look predatory as he slowly licked his fingers clean of your arousal.

You nodded eagerly, spreading your legs, eager to let him in.

“I’ve been nothing but good…please, fuck me.”

Halsin couldn’t deny your request, quickly positioning himself between your legs.

He sank into you with one thrust, your vision going blurry at the intense pleasure of his cock nestled deep inside you.

Halsin’s eyes flashed gold as he tried to compose himself, feeling your cunt squeeze around him.

“You are full of surprises.” Halsin groaned, his forehead dropping to yours. “I will never tire of your body and how it makes me feel.”

“Then you best keep reminding me.”

Halsin smiled at your cheeky comment, loving the way your chuckle gave way to a deep moan as he thrusts into you.

Impossible for me to forget, my heart.”

Gale 🔮

Your intimate time with Gale is no less than wonderful, always learning more about one another in the most pleasurable senses.

Something that surprised you tonight, and gave Gale great satisfaction, was the way you reacted to his words of admiration.

Gale is never short on compliments, but something about his particular words tonight was making you swoon and wetter than you’ve ever been.

“Your body is magnificent, not even the Weave itself could conjure something so immaculate.”

Gale muttered these words as he trailed kisses down your torso, stopping when your sharp inhale of breath and the small whine that escaped your lips caught his attention.

Gale smirked inwardly, realizing what was happening.

He had been noticing you reacting to his compliments in bed more and more and figured you had a thing for praise.

You didn’t need to say it out loud, and he was going to give you everything you wanted.

Gale continued down your soft body, worshiping at your altar, knowing he was going to thoroughly enjoy this new knowledge he had of you.

“No one, mortal or God, could ever compare to you and how you make me feel.”

Gale locked his gaze with you as he settled between your legs.

“I am not worthy of such a sight. Just look at you.”

You were embarrassingly wet, his honeyed words turning you on more than his touches.

No one had ever treated you with such reverence.

“Gale…” his name was lost on your tongue as he kissed the side of your thigh.

“You’re so wet…” his pupils darkened as he admired your glistening folds. “Immaculate. I wish I could stay between your legs forever.”

You moaned louder than intended as he began his meal, purposeful movements of his tongue and lips pleasing you like you’ve never felt before.

You gripped his hair, grinding against his face.

In between licks and sucks, Gale continued to mumble flattery into your desperately aching cunt.

Your orgasm was hurling toward you faster than you’d experienced before, crashing over you suddenly and intensely.

It was as if he was casting a spell on you, though no magic was involved in this moment.

Gale continued his feast, moaning into your pussy as your release coated his beard and face.

You melted into the bed, body boneless as Gale crawled back up on top of you.

He gently kissed your cheek, bringing you back to reality.

“Are you alright, my dear? I know my tongue is skilled but I couldn’t help but notice my words had an extra effect on you tonight.”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair.

“There’s no doubt about the skill of your tongue, in more ways than one.”

Gale laughed, running his hand up your arm.

Then we best not stop here, hm?”

Astarion 🌙

You had been kissing for a while, languidly exploring one another’s bodies with your hands, caressing and finding the spots that made one another sigh in delight.

Astarion was peppering kisses down your neck, his fangs ever so lightly nipping right under your ear.

He felt your body shudder under his touch, a low moan escaping your lips.

Astarion loved how responsive you always were to him, letting him touch and feel you at his own pace.

You seemed especially sensitive tonight, much to his delight.

Astarion hummed against your neck, taking in your scent, his hand tracing up your torso under your blouse.

His mind was clouding with desire, hearing your blood pump in your veins, your soft sighs as he grazed his finger over your pebbled nipple.

“Darling, be a good girl and take this off for me.” Astarion softly commanded in your ear, giving your breast a small squeeze.

Astarion was surprised by the ragged moan that left your lips, your back arching toward his touch.

Astarion lifted his head from your neck, giving you an amused look.

“Does someone like that?” Astarion teased, flashing you a smile.

You stuttered for a moment, embarrassed by what had taken over you.

“Can you…do that again?” You whispered, your embarrassment quickly overcome with desire as Astarion’s hungry gaze held your own.

“Do what, darling? You must be more specific.”

You huffed as Astarion’s eyes shone with amusement. He loved finding out new things about you like this.

“Call me…a good girl.”

Astarion pinned you to the bed in a flash, hovering his lips over yours.

He helped you remove your shirt and your trousers before settling back on top of you.

“Hmm, you liked that?” He once again grazed his fangs on your neck, pressing his hips into yours.

You could feel his erection straining against his trousers, seemingly turned on by this discovery.

“Y-yes.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into your core, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine.

“You like being praised? You like being told how absolutely delicious I find you?”

You whined, grinding yourself up against him.

“Yes!”

Astarion chuckled as you dug your fingers into his curls, bringing his face down to yours in a fiery kiss.

With one hand, Astarion slid your panties down, tracing a finger through your slick folds.

You moaned as he found your clit, rubbing circles that made your mind spin.

“That’s right,” Astarion panted in your ear as you writhed beneath him. “You are so beautiful like this. I can’t wait to be buried inside your perfect pussy.”

“Astarion…I want you inside me.”

He tsk’d in your ear, dragging his fangs down your neck, where he suckled on your collarbone.

“Patience, my darling. I do not want to rush this. I want to see every little expression on that perfect little face of yours. I want to hear every sigh, every whimper, every exquisite moan of my name. And you will be moaning my name, a lot.”

Astarion flashed you a look of determination, smirking before he lowered his head again, taking a nipple in your mouth, and rolling his tongue over the peak.

You whined at the sensation as he expertly suckled and nipped at your tender breast, your body trembling with anticipation, knowing he was going to be true to his word.

Wyll ⚔️

“My love, you were absolutely radiant tonight.”

You reeled at his compliment, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you into an intensely deep and romantic kiss.

You both had spent the evening at a Baldurian ball, dancing, drinking, and kissing up to nobles of the city.

Wyll had been nothing short of complimentary all night, never missing a chance to comment on your beauty and how proud he was to have you by his side.

Maybe it was the wine, but his compliments were going straight between your legs.

By the time the ball was over and you were back in your room, your body was burning with need.

You were not used to praise or compliments, and ever since being with Wyll, it was an entirely new experience.

You broke the kiss for a much-needed breath, and Wyll’s eyes were dark with desire.

“I mean it, my love. I have never met someone as astonishingly gorgeous as you. I often pinch myself thinking I’m in a waking dream.”

Desire bubbled between your legs as Wyll brought you into another fiery kiss.

“You are too good to me. You are walking poetry, you are the missing piece of my soul.”

You gripped his shoulders, moaning into the passionate kiss.

Wyll always had a way with words, somehow turning everything into poetry.

The praise he was uttering caused your body to ignite, desire rushing through your veins, desperate for more of his impassioned statements.

Wyll felt one hand wander up and under his shirt, while the other began fumbling with his belt.

Wyll chuckled at your enthusiasm, realizing it was his words that were accelerating your need tonight.

“Wyll, bed, please.” You gasped between urgent kisses, trying to push him back toward your bed.

“Does my dear partner need something of me?” Wyll teased, helping you undo his belt as you began desperately trying to get yourself out of your dress.

You shot him a coy look, smiling. “You know exactly what I need.”

Wyll stripped his clothes as quickly as he could, flinging his boots off to the side as you shimmied out of your dress.

Wyll met you for another intense kiss, laying you back on the bed, his desire apparent as his hard cock slid through your slick folds.

“This is what you do to me.” Wyll moaned into your mouth, your tongues dancing, hands exploring. “Do you feel how hard I am?”

Wyll ground his hips down into yours, kissing your neck, relishing in your moans.

“Y-Yes, I can feel you Wyll, please…” You bucked up against him, needing him inside you, now.

“So good for me, so good to me. That’s right, my love. I’ll give you what you need.”

Wyll pressed into your soaking pussy, his control slipping momentarily as he felt your velvety walls clench around him.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Wyll paused, looking down at you.

Your face was flushed, chest heaving, borderline desperation in your eyes as you gazed back up at him.

“Y-yes, tell me how I make you feel.” You gripped his shoulders.

Wyll groaned as he rolled his hips into yours, starting a slow pace.

“You make me feel as if I can take on the entire realm. You make me feel safe. You make me feel powerful. You make me feel loved. You make me feel invincible.”

You gripped Wyll’s shoulders, reeling at his words.

“I love you with my entire soul, my entire being. You complete me in every single sense.”

Wyll’s words were true and hot in your ear, his breath becoming more ragged, his words cut with deep moans as he increased his pace.

“Your body is as if it were cut from the same fabric of the heavens. I intend to worship you as such.”

Your orgasm was quickly approaching, and your moans were louder and more desperate.

Wyll pressed a finger to your throbbing clit, hurling you toward your end as your body spasmed around him.

You cried out his name, holding on to him for dear life.

Wyll coaxed you through your orgasm, his praise now unintelligible as blood rushed in your ears.

Wyll’s orgasm was soon after yours, not able to hold back any longer. He moaned your name, his body trembling as he finished inside you.

You both lay there a moment, catching your breaths.

Wyll looked at you, a twinkle in his eye.

“You always did say I had a way with words.” He laughed hoarsely as he rolled off of you, pulling you into his chest. “And if my extra compliments always lead us here…”

You laughed, playfully poking at his chest. “I definitely won’t complain.”

@thoughts-of-bear as requested 😘

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny I have an idea

What if reader and lando lowk hate each other and are rivals but one night at vegas they wake up after being blackout drunk married and they only have photos (a bit like the hangover movie) and then they get a flashback of everything with a fruitcake, crostata, cranberry juice and coffee plss thanksss bunny !

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items to check out, thank you so much for those who have submitted, these have been a lot of fun to make. i really love this concept so thank you for putting it in front of my eyes! i hope you enjoy <3

fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special." + crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.” + cranberry juice: mean!character + coffee: rivals served by lando norris (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, drinking, drunk marriage, hate sex, mean!lando,

light streamed through the large windows in your hotel room. your eyes cracked open and your mouth felt instantly dry. your lips couldn't form words as you just groaned. you were no stranger to hangovers, but when you turned away from the evil sun, your cheek collided with something firm. someone firm. it was a body, your eyes open wider. you looked to see who was the mystery man in your bed.

while you were expecting some babe from the strip. you instead saw a sleeping lando norris.

and when you recoiled away from you and put your hand over your mouth, you noticed something even more terrifying. you had a gold band on your left hand.

it started over drinks, you could see lando from across the bar as you leaned back into your seat. your teammate followed your gaze. not this again.

lewis had the displeasure of hearing almost all of your drunken rants about lando. he knew very intimately how much you loathed, but also wanted lando. he was your proper rival. while the rivalry wasn't the more fierce in the history of formula one, he wanted you to just get over your stubbornness and sleep with the mclaren driver to get over the tension.

"i hate him." you sighed, "he walks around the paddock like he has the biggest cock."

"and how would you know his cock isn't the biggest?" lewis laughed which spurred you to laugh.

"well, c'mon. we all know that my cock is the biggest. in a metaphorical sense anyway... but it takes big balls to be the only female driver. gotta keep up with the boys." you laughed and winked at your teammate.

lewis chuckled, "can't argue with that." then took a sip of his (non alcoholic) drink. he watched you look over at the mclearn drivers at the other end of the bar. while oscar gave a wave, lando glared at you.

you made a face before you took another sip of your cocktail, "he doesn't act like that with anyone else. he is practically running max off the track and he is still more friendly than with me. maybe he hates women." the alcohol was flooded in your brain and your tonuge felt looser.

your teammate laughed, "right, right. he hated woman." he watched you ramble. an unintentional plus side to not drinking was that he got to be the sober person in the room when fellow drivers spilled their guts over drinks. eventually he said, "i think you need to talk to him."

and you were so drunk at that point you took hew advice and got up on shaky legs. you started to make your way over to lando, which shocked lewis. you never took his advice like that. he also knew that he wasn't going to be seeing you for the rest of the night.

he looked around for a moment before he took another sip of his drink. he hoped that you didn't get into too much trouble tonight. and made a mental note to check in on you in the morning. someone could get into heaps of trouble in a place like las vegas.

you don't know this happened or what you said. but lando was soon in your room with his large hands all over you. you groaned at his touch and he wanted to devour you whole. you wanted the same for him.

"i'll make tonight special." he said as he got you out of your mercedes branded t-shirt. and eyed your breasts.

"never seen tits before, norris? i thought you went through women like pairs of socks." you laughed before lando pushed you further up against the wall.

he chuckled lowly, "you like getting me mad, huh? you like driving me up the fucking wall. stupid slut, this is what you wanted, huh? you wanted me to fuck you like i hate you." lando then groaned, he pinned you to the wall, "you're such a whore. i bet you keep toto's bed nice and warm during the off season."

"fuck, shut up. you basically are between the legs of zak any time he asks. like a fucking dog." you bit back before lando kissed you once more.

the months of feuding had come to a head. as lando continued you to mark up your breasts before he took your bra off. he hungrily licked his lips and groaned a little.

the bed seemed far and you ended up on the couch. both of you were stripped naked, your flushed body on display for him as you straddled his waist and he held on to your hips like you two had done this a million times. you moved well together.

"i thought you were a virgin because you never put out. turned out you're a proper whore." your moan only spurred him on as he pushed himself inside of your achy cunt. he felt you in such an intimate way.

"i'm not a whore" you groaned as you fully seated yourself onto his cock.

he gripped you by the ass and replied, "there's no shame in being a whore. especially my whore. don't worry, i won't throw you away. nah, i'm keeping you." he groaned as he started to fuck you. and you felt the flood of pleasure in your body.

you had to admit, lando made you feel good. there was something about how it made you feel that made you move faster. damn lando norris, damn him.

his kisses got hotter the more you both rutted against each other.

"you feel like heaven. the hottest piece of ass on the track." he groaned, "you're always trying to be the best, but i know you well enough. fuck you drive me crazy!"

you asked, "is that why you hate me?" you felt the pleasure pair with the liquor in your system. it all clouded your mind.

"could never actually hate you." he groaned, "i'd bully and tease you. but that's because i want you so badly. spent so many nights jerking off to the thoughts of you." his breathing became heavier, "wanted to fuck you in front of the grid. i wanted you all to myself." his tone was hungry, but his words were true. he needed you. you had invaded his thoughts.

"fuck, lando." the haze of it all kept you moving. there was a painful heat between you. it was unlike anything you felt before with anyone else. sex was fun with others, but with lando it was a deep need.

he excited you sexually, just as he ddi on the track. you two kissed once more and lando moaned against your lips. youmoved faster, you could feel his cock hit against your softest areas. and you felt heaven on earth. and as you climaxed, the feeling was closely compared to winning a grand prix.

"fuck.' he groaned as you came. you kissed once more and practically melted against him. he gripped your hips tightly.

you continued to fuck him through your orgasm. and by the time he finished inside of you, you had marked up his shoulders with your nails because he made you finish for a second time.

when you slowed to a stop, you rested against his toned chest. he wrapped an arm around you and gave you a lazy kiss on the mouth.

he groaned when he pulled away, "fuck it. i'm keeping you. let's get married." there were a lot of ways to get into trouble in las vegas.

-

you laid in bed beside a sleeping lando. you looked at your wedding ring in shock. it only made the hangover worse. you had no recollection of most of the night, you remembered being intimate. but no details about your wedding.

your phone rang and you reached for it. you picked it up and heard lewis' voice on the other end, "good morning mrs. norris."

you sat up in bed and the throb in your head got worse. "how did you know? jesus christ." you said as you got out of bed to have this conversation in the bathroom.

"i mean, you sent me photos of your wedding. didn't take you as someone who wanted to be married by an elvis impersonator. how drunk were you last night?"

you closed the bathroom door and looked into the mirror. and saw all the marks lando left you the night prior. you said, "i couldn't tell you... i remember nothing."

"well they already updated your name on the track for next weekend." lewis laughed, "i'd suggest your change it on your track id, don't want any problems, mrs. norris."

"you hate me, lewis. you want me dead."

lewis replied, "not as much as toto wants you dead. have fun with your husband, let me know if you're flying to qatar with him or not."

when the call ended, you looked through your photos. you got married to lando norris. your rival. you felt your stomach dropped when you saw all the photos. the bathroom door opened and you were face to face with your husband.

you looked at one another in shock. you looked down at the photo on the phone screen. it was you in a short white number and lando in a white button up and tan slacks. you had no memory of this.

your hands shook as you showed him the photo. there was a silence between you two. before you could say anything, you jumped as you phone rang once more.

your stomach twisted when you saw the caller id. it was your boss, toto wolff. <3

[imrllytootiredforthis]

i want hannie to eat me out is that so much to ask for 😞

worship me

han jisung x reader

warnings: dom reader, afab reader, sub han, oral (afab receiving)

a/n: wrote another short fic, bc hannie would get down his HANDS AND KNEES and beg for even the chance

listened to this song (worship by Ari Abdul)-

"darling, what are you doing?"

it always starts like this.

him being needy and horny and unable to help himself anymore. he's always been so insatiable, you knew this when you started dating him.

a night of cuddling just like tonight always ends up with him between your knees.

"please?"

his body sliding down onto the floor, resting one of his soft cheeks against your knee as he looks up at you wide needy eyes.

you roll your eyes at him with a huff, reaching down to play with the ends of his hair, twirling the strands between your fingers. "and why should i let you, hmm?"

his cheeks flush but you don't let him look away, holding his gaze with yours, tugging at his hair in warning.

his mouth opens, closes.

he rambles. a lot. that's what made you fall in love with him, his endless talking and the endearing look in his eye when he went on about something he was passionate about.

but you couldn't say that you didn't love when he was utterly speechless.

when there isn't a single thought in that pretty little head of his, only the idea of putting his mouth to some better use.

you wouldn't say that you liked them dumb but you did like when you could make them go dumb.

"hmm?"

"i just," he noses against your bare skin with a purr, "want you to feel good," he whispers with a hot kiss to the spot right above your knee.

you spread your legs and he lets out an appreciative hum, slotting his body between them as you maneuver your shorts off. his eyes fall before your fixing them back on yours.

"is that it?"

you know it isn't. he knows it isn't.

as much as he'd love to preach that he loved to eat you out for just your pleasure you both knew that wasn't it.

he could spend hours between your thighs. with his tongue worshipping you and his lips sucking at your clit and your cum sliding down his throat until his thoughts into mush.

"please baby? please just let me..." he hesitated but when you made no move he continued. "let me feel your pussy on my tongue. i wanna feel you...so bad."

your nails scratched at the nape of his neck and he barely shivered before hand in his hair shoved him against you.

he whimpered.

"f-fuck, oh fuck, you're so wet."

his tongue is quick to work against you, licking broad strips as your taste and your smell flooded his senses.

he was a man starved and you were salvation in a desert.

"fuck baby," his head spins when you moan. "just like that," with the way you grind against his mouth, with the way you softly tug at his hair and call him your good boy.

it makes him so hard, eating you out while you praise him.

his soft lips wrapping around your clit and sucking ever so slightly, smiling and whining against you when you gasp.

he throbs and he could cum like this. he has before.

with your thighs wrapped around his head and everything so hot and fuzzy he could pass out.

his tongue, wet and slippery, sliding up between the lips of your cunt and tasting you before he lets it slip inside. It's pathetic the way he moans, like you’re the most delicious thing he's ever had in his mouth.

but you are.

he's stupid when your legs rest over his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as his tongue thrusts into you, your heels digging into his back but he can't help it.

his hips thrust, fucking into nothing but the fabric of his soft pajama pants. he's so sensitive he could cry.

his whines send delicious vibrations throughout your body, adding to the sensations coursing throughout your body, bringing you closer with every flick of his tongue.

"use your fingers," you mutter and he obeys wordlessly, like a dog without any better purpose.

he thrusts them into you, fast, just the way you've taught him. and he lets you use him, just the way you like.

letting you grind over his tongue and face however you like. you pant and he moans like he's the one being eaten out as he listens to you praise him. you keep muttering, "fuck, that's it, such a good boy, good boy for me hannie." and it makes him so, so horny he can hardly handle it, can hardly think straight except for your taste and the way your clit drags over his mouth and the way he just wants you to cum all over his face.

how he could suffocate right here and now between your thighs and he'd have no regrets except for maybe the fact that he didn't get to feel your cum around his fingers and down his throat.

and fuck, you're tightening around his fingers and even though he knows you'll scold him later he pulls them out and replaces them with his tongue.

and his thumb rubs at your clit, his eyes crossing as your nails dig into his scalp and you push his head harder against you, letting out a cry as you cum.

right as he does.

making a mess of his pants as you let go, thrusting against him weakly to ride out your high, sighing as you come down.

you lighten your hold just to see the dumb look on his face but he grips your thighs, not letting up as he mewls.

"baby?" he sighs dreamily, looking up just enough to meet his eyes. you can see the hearts practically glowing in them.

"did i make you go dumb puppy?" you coo and his heart races.

"one more?"

you roll your eyes.

"you're gonna be the death of me."

but it wasn't a no.

a/n: i haven't written a descriptive afab oral scene in literally forever so honestly this isn't the best but...😭

[prodbymaui]

Oops, Baby (I Love You)

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

PAIRING: jeong jaehyun x reader

GENRE: modern royalty ; arranged marriage

WORD COUNT: 12.5k+ words

WARNINGS: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of sleeping pills, food play, oral sex, dirty talks. (the whole fic is romcom slash very fluffy, the only nasty thing here is the smut scene)

SYNOPSIS: you had been living your life as a rebellious and controversial crown princess, now you must face the consequence of purifying your tainted image; marrying the gentle and infamous crown prince of South Korea.

PLAYLIST: Do you hear my heart?

A/N: after weeks of depression episodes what do you call them), I finally got the strength to finish this bad bitch lmao. I know you guys have been waiting so I hope you'll leave your thoughts after? anyways, happy reading!

Everything is spinning and everyone is either two or three. You don't know how much alcohol you've drank but certainly it was enough for you to stumble your way out of the bar, looking for somewhere to puke your guts out.

The intense nausea is already too much for your fucked up body system to accommodate, but the gods and deities thought it's not enough and it'll be perfect if you trip continuously on your Celine Truffle Pointed Heels, possibly damaging it more than you've done to your other shoes. The mask to hide your face is not helping as well.

Someone bumps your side and due to your drunken state, you lose your balance and break one of the heels, sending you to dive to your side. Your eyes shut close as you brace yourself for a painful slam but it never comes. Instead you meet a firm chest hidden underneath a black dress shirt and 2 layers of silver necklaces.

Looking up, through your hazy vision, you see pursed lips and palms up, as if avoiding touching you anywhere. As you step to regain your balance, you trip once again and like a deja vu, the man only lets you use his shoulders and chest to support yourself but never lets his hands touch you.

''You might want to get off of me, Ms…?''

Hearing that voice, a strange sense of familiarity and longing surge to your heart, engulfing it and squeezing it. As if to say, remember it.

''...heart.'' Why is my heart aching?

The man pulls away and observes you, sighing. He clears his throat. ''Sorry, Heart.''

His figure walking away is the last thing you see before your vision blacks out with no guarantee of you being able to recall the events that took place tonight.

Utmost disappointment. Series of distasteful comments. Disapproving reactions. Surely, these aren't the usual feelings of the people towards the soon-to-be-queen of their country but it has been the weekly routine for the people of yours to criticize their sole princess.

''Strip her off the royal titles–! Are these people out of their mind?!'' Your squeal that comes close to a banshee rings across the whole entirety of the bedroom.

''Excuse them, they take after their princess.'' Hiding her giggles behind a fist, Winter scrambles off the bed as you aim to strangle her fragile neck.

Barely dodging your deathly grips by an inch, Winter's yelps bounces off the walls continuously, followed by your irritated shrieks and threatening hands ready to crush your best friend. The chase eventually dies down with the two of you panting, catching your breaths. You pull her short brown locks one last time before jumping on the bed, face down. Winter does the same and lands next to you, arms draping over each other.

A knock disrupts the peaceful atmosphere that engulfs the room, pulling you out of your slumber trance. You knew the pattern of the knock too well. It is practiced by all royal staff to ensure politeness and great manners whenever they are surrounded by royalties and VIPs. Included in training  as per the Queen's request.

The door opens and it reveals a female servant. This one's not yours, judging by the blue brooch. ''Good evening, Your Highness. Ms. Kang wishes to see you in her office right now and orders me to fetch you.''

''And why is that?''

''She said nothing, Ma'am.''

That earns a boisterous laugh from your best friend, alongside a series of claps. ''Goodluck on hearing an hour of scolding, girl.''

Winter sends you a 'fighting' gesture. You give her your middle finger.

The trip to the advisor's office takes a few minutes as the private chambers of the royal members are at the east wing while gatherings, some royal duties, and part where it is open for the public are dealt with at the west side of the palace. You're still not mentally prepared when the wooden entrance makes its way for you. As your eyes meet the pair of the royal advisor, you know you should've prepared yourself much better.

''Good evening, Your Highness. Please do take a seat.''

Albeit it's probably showing on the courtesy of your eyebrows, you still cover your scoff with a cough under your breath. ''Drop the politeness, Eunhye. I don't need it.''

Eunhye removes the newspaper that serves as a hindrance for you to see her expression, and there you spot the disapproving look on her face. You shrug inwardly. What's new? You suppose people in their late 30s are quite uptight. Or it's just your former babysitter.

Kang Eunhye used to play with you a lot during your childhood whenever you and your friends didn't have a playdate. You should've known she was going to take up her late mother's position when Eunhye often disappeared after the death of the former royal advisor. That was when she started changing and became more strict with you.

''You don't need it, you say? Good. Because I don't perceive it as necessary when I tell you Her Majesty had gone haywire by yet another scandal of her sole heir that she asked me to not let you out of the palace if it's not for your studies or royal duties.''

''–what?! That's absurd!''

''Oh I think it's a light punishment for a scandal involving participating in a brawl, breaking the nose of a commoner and almost ending up in jail. Mind you, this happened in front of a controversial bar! And to top it all off, it hasn't been a week since you were caught sleeping in the streets because your drunk ass couldn't help yourself up!''

You scratch your head. ''...well, if the bodyguards came–''

''They would've if you didn't switch clothes with a random woman and make them follow her thinking it was you! Do you know they got suspended and will not receive a portion of their salary because of what YOU did? It's only because of the King that they were spared from getting fired.''

''Not my fault that the guards you hired were fools and easily deceived. They should've recognized my figure even with different clothes.''

''They are bodyguards. Not your devoted fans–,'' Eunhye sighs. ''Your Highness.''

A moment of silence travels along the soundwaves of the room decorated with blue.

''Okay…? What do you want me to do, then? Public appearances? Press conference?''

Eunhye, knowing her ways, will probably advise you to address the issue, apologize for the things that you don't even regret to pacify the netizen. And because they most likely (definitely) won't buy your fake ass apology statement and continue to terrorize you on social media, your schedule will be packed with attending public events to show your 'genuineness'.

You've done this routine more times than the royal court approves so you know what to expect. In fact, you already have a few suggestions ready on which events will possibly dust bits of dirt on your name. You know this like the back of your hand.

The Queen enters. ''No.''

Apparently, you don't..? 

The moment your mother opens her mouth, you feel as if a myriad of buckets of icy water washes over you.

''You will marry a gentleman with a clean image. By then, you will be seen with great influence and garner people's love.''

Once. Twice. You slap yourself three more times but you don't wake up from this nightmare. Winter only looks at you pitifully while chewing her steak.

''Darling, would you please stop hurting yourself?'' A lovable tone is evident from the King's voice, accompanied by a concerned stare.

You sigh but the stabs of your fork through your own steak doesn't stop. ''Marry a gentleman.. I can't fucking believe this.''

''Language.'' The Queen says firmly. ''I apologize for getting ahead of you. I suppose you don't fancy a gentleman?''

''You apologize for assuming my preference but not for taking away my freedom..?''

''Do you wish to marry a lady, then?''

Silence fills the table. You sigh. ''Honestly? Anything would be fine.''

Your mother mums. ''Very well, then. You will be meeting your fianceé in 3 days–''

''–as long as I get to choose who I am marrying.''

''That won't be possible. The person needs to have the most influence and power among your age. The gender will be the only thing we can let you choose.''

''You don't have problems with having a queer princess?''

The Queen frowns. ''Of course, why would we? It is neither a crime nor a sin.''

Your father then nods. ''The royal court fully supports it since two decades ago.''

''But not the 'choosing your own lover'?'' You can only shake your head. You turn to the maid nearby. ''Please bring this to my room, I'll eat there instead.''

Everyone watches you in silence. No one at the table dares to scold you for your behavior.

''She has the rights to be upset this time.'' The King comments.

''Yes, she does.'' The Queen agrees.

Winter warily looks around, pursing her lips as she raises her hand. ''Uhm.. Your Majesty?''

''Yes, Lady Minjeong?''

Winter winces at the mention of her government name. ''As your daughter's best friend, will it be possible for me to know who she'll be marrying?''

Smiling, the King snaps his finger. ''Ah.. let's see if the future lover would pass the best friend's vibe check.''

His husband sends him a curt glance. ''Don't ever try to use generational phrases, it doesn't suit you. Back to Lady Minjeong, yes, it is possible. Would you like to know now?''

''A-already? I thought you're still looking through the profiles?''

''We have tons of staff, Lady Minjeong.''

''Right, I forgot about that.'' Winter sheepishly smiles.

''I'll excuse myself then. I have an appointment with a VIP in an hour, I have to go.'' Just as the husband and wife head towards the exit of the dining hall, the Queen turns. ''It is Prince Jaehyun of South Korea. A good man and the best one for the princess.''

''None on twitter. Nadda on instagram. Nothing on their official website. Heck, there's not even a single picture on google! Does this Prince Jaehyun even exist?'' Winter exclaims as she continues to scroll on her phone.

Frowning, you throw a pillow in her direction. ''Let the others hear your whining and they'll think you have a crush on my soon-to-be-fianceé. Why are you so interested in him?''

''Well, duh! You're literally marrying him, that's enough reason for me to get curious! The question here is why are YOU not interested?''

''I'm more interested in that man at the bar.''

''You should give some! This is the person you'll be spending your life with we're talking about!''

Scoffing, you tug the ends of her hair. ''Will you stop saying I'll marry him? The engagement will be called off sooner than mom and dad can even realize it's coming.''

Winter gasps dramatically and shots up to sit. ''What if it's some old man with a stinky smell and white hair? Oh my god what if Her Majesty agreed to marry you off to some ugly ass 50 year old man for the sake of the country's betterment?!''

Threatening to punch her if she doesn't stop with the overthinking, Winter zips her mouth as she decides to scroll on her phone once again.

You sigh. ''Pretty sure, Mom wouldn't do that, right? I mean she said something about being the best out of the people among our age so..''

''Huh, look at this.''

Winter crawls to you from the part of the she is lying, hands careful not to swipe her screen and risk refreshing the page. You squint your eyes to see.

PANN:

Crown Prince Jaehyun Once Again Stuns The People Of South Korea With His Amazing Visuals.

[ +217, -5 ] It's a shame that we're not allowed to post a photo of him on the internet. How am I supposed to stare at his face for a long time then? How am I supposed to appreciate and share his beauty?

[ +190, -3 ] Daebak! The royal family just visited our village and the rumors weren't lying when they said Prince Jaehyun is handsome ahwksjskww. He's like a walking statue!

[ +165, -20 ] I would die for a man like Prince Jaehyun. Very gentleman and polite. One time, I was with my niece when I met him and the youngest prince in a mall. My niece really wanted the toy car but Prince Jaehyun and Prince Jaemin got the last one before use but they still gave it to my niece.

[ +132, -56 ] Heol ㅋㅋㅋ Of course he would say that, he has an image to keep up! Royalties would try to polish their personalities in public often because they can't afford to lose the trust of the people. It's so fucking dumb how you think the prince acts that way because that just how he is and not because he has an image to take care of.

[ +122, -13 ] The comment above lolol. You're just jealous that the prince has everything you don't; looks, manners, and brains ㅋㅋㅋ

[ +84, -7 ] I don't think Prince Jaehyun does it because people are watching him. I've seen him lecture Prince Jaemin about how he shouldn't expect to get what he wants every time and mind you no one was inside our store that time as our store isn't quite popular so he couldn't be doing it for his image. I feel like Prince Jaehyun is genuine!

[ +65, -5 ] Didn't a lot of people see him wearing clothes with no brands? And that he has a good relationship with the youngest prince? Idk about you but I'd say that speaks a lot about him.

[ +52, -3 ] I've met Prince Jaehyun a lot of times, the only thing I could say is; 'Ultimately Prince-Like'! Handsome and tall, like he's written by Taylor Swift ㅋㅋㅋ. Prince Jaehyun is a dream *three heart emojis*

As you read over the first comment again, the curve on your forehead only deepens. They are not allowed to post a photo of their prince? Then, that would explain the lack of appearance of the royalty everywhere on social media. This pricks your interest. 

''That's a bit.. odd. They forbid any pictures of that prince from getting uploaded.''

''I know right! It's strange. Why would they hide the prince's face if he's truly handsome like the people said?''

You suck the top of your teeth. ''Maybe he's actually ugly and those that say otherwise were paid people. Or probably royal staffs ordered to spread some good words about their prince.''

''Why are you so hell-bent in making him ugly? Can't accept that your parents actually chose someone handsome, rich, and has good personality?''

Shaking your head, you wave your hand dismissively. Oh how you wish you could swipe off that annoying smirk on Winter's face. Is there a rule saying a princess can escape any law including those that involves unaliving a certain daughter of a duke? Hopefully, there is!

If, miraculously, your parents bring that man from the bar to you and arrange him to a marriage with you, maybe then you'll agree to tie up the knot at such a young age. In fact, you might even drop down to your knees and serve him–

The alcohol, or lack thereof, is definitely not good for you.

With the news of your engagement being released plus the anger from the people that is far from dwindling anytime soon, Winter didn't think twice to join you when the idea of getting drunk comes up. There's nothing better than drowning yourself in alcohol after constantly having to deal with the disappointed people of your country.

However, the night is just near getting young when your personal bodyguards dragged you and your best friend out of the bar. It is said that the royal advisor ordered them to do so but your mother was the root. It angered you to the core. They took your freedom of marrying someone you truly love and now, they're depriving you of coping with it as well? How controlling.

Winter was sent home right after both of you got howled back to the royal car. A couple of warnings from the Duke to his daughter and you know something is off. 

Winter's father isn't one to indulge himself in his daughter's vices. Sure, he keeps tabs on her every now and then but the Duke of Boryeong never attempts to control Minjeong as if some kind of robot, lest he suffers from the wrath of Duchess of Boryeong.

You could only wish your own parents did the same. Maybe they will. If you beg for a couple of days in front of the palace while dawning your white hanbok like those korean historical films that Winter likes to watch.

Shutting the car door close, you pass a whisper of 'thank you' to the driver before striding inside the palace. There aren't many people aside from those guarding the entrance which is why you don't find the need to be extra careful on your way. Being free from the shackles of aches caused by your heels is the only thing on your mind.

Just as you turn a corner, straight down the hall that leads to the dining area– you collide with someone. It'll send you a few steps backwards if it's not for the grip on your blazer. Your vision clearing takes a couple of seconds, courtesy of being tipsy from your previous activity.

''Is everything alright?'' A rather soothing yet deep voice asks you, hands already back on his sides.

Your attention diverts to the man that steadies you. Sharp cheekbones in contrast to the soft jawline, almond eyes, and a slightly chapped lips. You wonder if they're naturally pink or the color comes from cosmetic products.

''Your Highness–'' Eunhye appears out of thin air and your bodies separate right as the royal advisor sets her eyes on you. 

Your Highness? Who could this be?

''Ah, I see, you've met each other already. Shall we take this to the dining..? Her Majesty awaits alongside the King and Queen of South Korea.''

No words are exchange between you. Silence fills the air. Clicking of heels appearing every now and then until they reach where your parents and the leaders of South Korea chatters. Everyone stands before their seats at the sight of two crown heirs.

You might be rebellious but no way you're gonna forget the basic manners each person should possess. Doing a brief curtsy, you earn a loving smile from the Queen of South Korea. It radiates warmth and comfort. 

The man beside you does a bow as well that makes his body fold to a 90 degrees. It was too formal for your liking. Too ancient royalty. Too prince-like. So this is what the mysterious prince of South Korea looks like. Somehow, it irks you to the bones.

Gritting your teeth, you sit at the right side of your father after exchanging pleasantries. Each person that occupies the seats of the table starts to dig in as they begin to discuss the matter which you assume is about your issue.

You thought you could go through this dinner in peace until the conversation, courtesy of your mother, diverts to you.

''I've seen the news but it doesn't bother me at all. The princess is merely having fun, just like those around her age do. I, myself, have gone through that phase. '' Queen Miyoung laughs softly. ''The Crown Princess is only at the wrong place, at the wrong time. We used to get in trouble for sneaking out often before as well, isn't that right?''

With the amount of times you've gotten snapped by the paps and you were caught doing shits that is considered inappropriate behavior for a royalty like you— surely, it's not a coincidence anymore. Ever since your first scandal came up, the media that follows your every step doubles. They are always hungry for a headline. And you cannot deny the fact that you're giving them a reason to use you as one.

Your mother reciprocates her friend's chuckles, shaking her head as they recall their memories during when they were your age. Surprisingly, there's a relief inside you. Well, at least the Queen of South Korea doesn't think you're a defect in the royal family.

''I think the wild-like personality of our dear perfectly contrasts the gentle and tame personality of Prince Jaehyun, which is a charming point that the people will eventually love once they got to know about this marriage.'' Your mother adds. 

Balling up your fist, you had to bite the insides of your cheeks to prevent your eyes from rolling.

''Oh absolutely!'' Queen Miyoung places a hand on her son's shoulder, a smile once again appearing on her captivating features. ''My son here is known in our country as someone who is compassionate, emphatic, and humble. Talented on top of that as well!''

Adoration paints your mother's face. ''So I've heard. I feel assured that someone like Prince Jaehyun will be taking care of my daughter.''

''Please, Your Majesty, you can just call me Jaehyun.''

The velvety voice swoons the hearts of the Queen. ''Alright, alright. My heart is beaming at the thought of having you as my son-in-law soon, Jaehyun.''

What the hell? What did this Jaehyun do for him to gain the favor of those around him? Even your father is nodding and smiling in approval as he shares a conversation with this insufferable prince! 

''Humor me, Jaehyun.'' Your father speaks. ''What do you do as a hobby?''

Probably plan how he can convince everyone with that fake ass personality lol.

Jaehyun pats the napkin on his lips before replying. ''Not much, Sir. I indulge myself in music instruments and sometimes, I also sing for fun.''

Did he do his research? That's your father's favorite pastime!

''Ah, singing! If you didn't know, that's one of the things I like the most especially if I'm consumed with boredom.''

Your mother nods. ''Catch him singing while signing papers at his office. Or while feeding our dogs.''

Chuckles blooms on the table.

''Maybe if we have enough time, you could sing for us?'' Your mother suggests as the others agree. 

Jaehyun shakes his head with a fist hiding his smile. ''I'm not great at singing but I'll make sure to prepare once that time comes.''

Acting humble now, eh? He doesn't have to prepare because you'll make sure that time won't come. The skin on your forehead creases even before you could stop it. This is stressing you out more than you anticipated.

Deciding to release your stress on something else, you proceed to harshly cut your Sole Meuniére with the knife prepared by the kitchen staff all the while pursing your lips. Poor innocent Mr. Fish, suffering from the wrath of a princess.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 1, do things that will turn him off. Forking the sea creature's meat, you make sure to chew extra loudly, looking straight at Jaehyun's eyes as you open your mouth every now and then while munching. Surely, anyone would grimace at the sight of chewed fish meat inside one's mouth and at the sound it makes.

Anyone, Prince Jaehyun not included. You slow down the movement of your jaw when the man only sports a brief squint of his eyes before turning away, as if he didn't see the disgusting view you just showed him. Is he not disgusted? Hah! Maybe this is how he actually chews when there's no people around so he's not bothered by it. That's right!

You nod subtly at the voices in your head, gulping the food down when it starts to feel a little weird on your tongue. Reaching for the glass of water, you sip the liquid to tend your throat.

''So about the wedding next week–''

The people gasp, your father standing up from his seat. Series of coughing sounds emit from you as you pat your chest continuously.

''I'm sorry– the water went down the wrong pipe.'' You face towards the other way while massaging your throat, your back getting tapped by your father.

What were they thinking, mentioning that fucking wedding while eating? What if you die from choking? Far-fetched, but you don't cross out the possibilities anyway.

Clearing your throat, you give them a smile after fixing yourself. ''Did I hear it right? The wedding is next week? Isn't that quite fast? We're not chasing a due date here. Plus, we haven't even announced an engagement yet. I'm sure the people will be shocked if I'm suddenly married or engaged in just a matter of days. I suggest prolonging the engagement for– let's say.. a month? I think that would be realistic enough.''

King Jaekyung sends you a grin. ''Dear, your engagement is trending on social media platforms as we speak.''

''W-what?''

You quickly fish out your phone. You don't even have to search either your name or Jaehyun's because an article about your engagement pops up the moment the app loads.

JUST IN: The Crown Princess Revealed To Be Engaged To The Crown Prince of South Korea

After getting involved in numerous issues, the Crown Princess had dropped off the limelight for a few days only to surprise us with an amazing news. According to the exclusive interview held two days ago, Her Highness shyly reveals that the reason for her disappearance on the radar is because a certain man snatches her focus with a shiny ring!

The princess happily shares that she and Prince Jaehyun, Crown Prince of South Korea, have been in a healthy relationship for 4 years now and still going strong. During the early months of dating, the two royalties express their worries about causing an unnecessary ruckus and heartbreaks if they ever go through a break up. According to Her Highness, a stable relationship wasn't exactly guaranteed as they live in different countries and have heavy responsibilities as the future leaders which is why they avoided letting the people know about their romance until they are sure that they can handle the consequences all at once.

''The country had been experiencing some serious issues back then so when Jaehyun and I started to get in touch, we decided not to make it public immediately. Not only were we just starting but we also didn't want to stir another headline if we ever broke up. We were teenagers 4 years ago, we were kids. We know that we are bound to make mistakes but as the future leaders of our countries, adding our childish break up to the countries' problems isn't something that we desire. Thankfully though, our relationship stayed strong and sturdy. There were a few fights here and there, of course, but Jaehyun and I remained understanding with each other. Those years were the reason why I didn't hesitate to say yes when he proposed to me. It was just the two of us, no cameras, no media, no other people. Saying this might be off to some but I was glad that only the both of us got to witness it. As someone who lives in front of the camera and prying eyes, we enjoyed the privacy and intimacy we had during the proposal. We initially didn't plan to have our wedding soon but we figured that there's no point in prolonging what's been a long time coming. Our love kept us intact throughout the years and until now, I could say that I'm still very much and deeply falling in love with him.'' said the Crown Princess.

Furthermore, Prince Jaehyun also shared that one of the reasons that he hid his face was to protect his relationship with his future lover, now Crown Princess. Show more…

''I don't– I don't remember getting interviewed for this...''

The Queen massages your shoulder. ''That's the power of influence, love.''

A shrieking scream jostles Winter in her bed despite being on the other line. Rubbing her ears, Winter felt as if her eardrums got busted just now. She munches on her cookies while she waits for you to be finished with all your screaming and throwing angry punches at the poor teddy bear beside your pillows.

The screeching stops. You look at Winter through the screen of your phone. ''Humor me.''

Eyes boring to you, she didn't stop licking the crumbs that were left on her fingers. ''What is it?''

''Making up stories about my supposed relationship with that man was one thing, but seriously? Telling the whole country I'm still fucking falling in love? Deeply even!''

You hear your bestfriend giggle. ''You think them making everyone think you're smitten with a man is worse than creating fake ass stories about your love life?''

''Well, Isn't it?''

''You're unbelievable.''

''Tell me something I don't know.'' Getting off your bed, you head out of the room. ''Anyways, text you later.'' Blowing her a kiss, the call ended just as you jog down the stairs.

It's been three days since you last saw that prince and those days might be the happiest of your entire life, sans the nags from your mom to get closer with that twat. For a few suns, you've surprisingly experienced peace.

However, it didn't last a long time. It seems like when God precipitated a rain of misfortunes, you were in the middle– swimming in it. Instead of peacefully staying at the palace just like you had always done, you received the news saying you'll move to a place– an apartment. And you received it through waking up one day and seeing them packing your things without even asking your permission. You were asking yourself whether it's real, or it's just a figment of your imagination as sleep still buzzed in your veins.

Now, what's so unfortunate about having your own place? Jeong Jaehyun, is what's unfortunate. You won't forget that infuriating smirk that he sports as he watches you glare at the boxes in the living room, boring holes in them. Complaints start to spill out of your mouth in a whisper despite being in the same space with him in just a matter of an hour.

Dividing the closet and choosing bedrooms is a nightmare. Everyone knows you've got things enough for 3 people, including your heels collection. Storing your possessions requires a big space, but Jeong Jaehyun thought it was a great idea to upped you and place his stupid rubber shoes (or sneakers) collections first without leaving any space for your heels.

Jaehyun stands by the door, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as he witnesses you turn into some kind of witch, casting different spells, desperate to cast his annoying ass away. It's so comical that it had Jaehyun's shoulder shake as he stifles his laugh. A witch with a collection of heels? Truly, one of a kind.

''Let's split them, Jeong. You take the right side, I'll take the left.''

''No can do.''

''The fuck? Are you expecting me to leave my babies on the floor?''

Jaehyun quirks a brow. ''What's so bad about that? I'm sure your 'babies' will not mind where they are placed, nonetheless.''

''Well, I do!''

The prince turns his heels, but before walking away, he looks at you over his shoulder. ''Learn to take a no, witch.''

''W–what? A fucking what? Hey! Jeong, you jerk– get back here and repeat what you said! Oh you piece of– you did not just say what I heard you said.''

Needless to say, the night ended with you cackling like the devil you are in your room while Jaehyun stays at the kitchen, pressing a cold compress to his skin, hissing. This should go away by tomorrow, or he wouldn't be able to explain how he got a faint mark of slippers on his forehead. Prepare a protective gear if he wants to taunt a witch, Jaehyun notes.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 2, piss the fuck out of him like he does to you.

Being the menace that he is, Jeong made it his daily errand to annoy the hell out of you. His day wouldn't go by without doing things that ticks you off so much you just wish something important would come up in Korea so Jaehyun would be obligated to leave your country and magically stay there for good. 

Example no.1, the cookies you baked for yourself.

''Jeong, where's the cookies?''

''What cookies?''

''The ones in the tray. On the countertop.''

''I don't know no cookies.''

The crumbs on the corner of his lips says otherwise. You waited for half an hour to eat that!

''You– Jeong!!''

Example no.2 followed not long after. You were running late for a hang out with Winter as you couldn't find your today's pick of pair of heels. No, you wouldn't leave this apartment until you find that very pair. Your outfit won't look put together if you wear a different one.

A quarter before 9 PM, you still haven't found the shoes. Did you perhaps leave it at the palace? That couldn't be! You swear you saw it yesterday. Going back and forth to the walk-in closet, living room, and your bedroom– you're this close to tearing your hair apart and turning the whole apartment upside down.

Your phone pings and displays Winter's message. ''Fuuuck, where did I put that?''

Washing your hands over your face, you tilt your head upwards as you let out an exasperated sigh, stomping your feet in annoyance. When you open your eyes, you see the shoes you had been looking for the past 30 minutes. At the ceiling. Where the broken ceiling fan used to be.

How the hell did that even get— You recall seeing Jaehyun standing on a ladder this morning, saying something about fixing the fan.

''JEONG JAEHYUN, YOU FUCKER!!''

Boisterous laughter echoes from the bastard's room.

You still haven't recovered from the heels incident when example no.3 shows itself.

Hammered from drinking all night long after getting your hands on your shoes, you are swaying and tripping as you reach the apartment, slurring your nonsensical words. You don't know how, but you got home safely anyway. A hangover was expected yet it is harsher than you thought it would be.

''Ah fuck..'' You hold your pounding head.

Heading towards the kitchen, you fend your drying throat some water. Washing yourself is not on the list as you change out of your black bodycon dress and fit yourself into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. You jog out of the building after fighting the urge to throw up the elevator and arrive at the convenience store in no time, your breath that reeks of alcohol be damned.

Picking up a few items for your hangover didn't take long, the cashier is already punching them a few minutes upon your arrival.

''You..''

You bore your eyes to the cashier. ''Yes?''

''...Nothing, Ma'am.'' He then proceeds to tell you the total of what you bought.

There's no further exchange between the two of you after that, so when you get your plastic bag, you walk back to your apartment. As you prepare yourself some cup noodles, you tilt your head, tsking.

Is it just you or the cashier has been giving you some looks? You might be suffering from a headache but pretty sure, you're sober enough to notice the subtle glances the cashier has been giving you. Did you do something stupid again last night? But Eunhye would be calling you first in the morning if you did. Maybe he recognizes your face? The country's princess' face is plastered everywhere. 

''Whatever. Why am I even thinking about it?'' Ever since the engagement, you noticed that you became more cautious in your actions. The streets say the lioness got tamed by a prince. You say you just learned your lesson not to underestimate your mother's punishments.

Staring at your food, your bladder got triggered at the sight of the soup. Peeing what's probably the alcohol in your system, you stand before the sink to wash your hands. And when you look up, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion.

You are shocked. You are angry. You want to hide yourself from embarrassment. You want to punch the wall. And on top of that, you desire to unalive a royalty, preferably a crown prince that comes from South Korea.

A smile that appears to stretch the ends of your lips. A massive black dot on your nose and cheeks. Two big horns at the top of your eyebrows.

''JEONG JAEHYUN YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD!!''

There were a lot of pranks that Jaehyun had played, with big ones not failing to show up each week. Hiding your charger. Stealing your snacks. Mismatching your socks. And many more that ruin your day so often that the second thing you'd do after waking up is checking for the prank that the prince had done for the day. You are frustrated. And it's not like you to let these kinds of things pass without getting back. This time, you're making sure he'll order to stop the wedding and regret messing with you.

Shuffling in her bed, Winter huffs. ''What do you want?''

''Help me curate a list of the most infuriating pranks.''

Your best friend frowns. ''What for? Are you turning to a kid now? Or perhaps, you're..'' Then she gasps. ''You're carrying a kid?!''

''..The fuck?'' How did she even come up with that conclusion?

''Isn't that what happens when two people who hate each other's guts live under the same roof? Like enemies to lovers!''

You scoff. ''I told you to stop watching kdramas.''

''I'm Korean, duh!'' Winter rolls her eyes. ''Don't forget I'm still upset you took a long time before telling me you literally moved in with your fianceé.''

''Well now you know, and I'm asking for help so I could escape this hellhole.''

''Wait– so you're telling me to suggest pranks in order for you to move out? How does pranking even equals to that?''

Giving her a bored stare, you click your tongue. ''I'll piss the hell of out him, he won't be able to sleep properly at night.''

Winter squeaks. ''You're pranking the prince–?!''

''Yeah, no shit. Who else would it be?''

''Never thought I'd to live the day I'll see you getting on prank wars with your fianceé.''

''Yadda yadda. Just help me with it, please.'' Winter fake gags as she watches you bat your eyes at her.

''Promise me when you get in trouble, my name won't get drag.''

''You're my ride or die, though..''

''...''

''...''

''...Fine.''

''Yay!!''

Jaehyun passes the clock a glance. He's up early so he doesn't have to worry about getting late to his appointment for the day. His footsteps ring from his bedroom, eventually transfering to the kitchen. Just as Jaehyun reaches out for a mug, a container catches his attention.

''Made too much, you can eat it if you want.'' The sticker on it says.

His eyes must be playing with him. What has gone to the witch? Should he be scared? Although overthinking aside, you mentioned that you only made more than enough for one person, hence giving it to him. Welp, free breakfast for him then.

Sitting down, Jaehyun takes off his coat lest he stains it minutes before he attends an appointment. The lid clicks open and his nostrils hit with an appetizing scent of eggs and bacons. There's some rice and tomatoes on the side as well.

Biting the bacon along with rice, Jaehyun chews slowly, checking out the taste. He then hums, figuring out there's nothing to be afraid of. They taste like what they should've been. Strangely, Jaehyun thinks it tastes more delicious.

Today, you are not at the unit as it is the start of your 'redeeming reputation' era. Jaehyun ponders what you're doing right now. Are you sleepy? He heard you talking to your friend at 2am. Have you eaten breakfast properly? You eat a little in the morning. Are you having fun? Or you're just pretending to be? You don't fancy gatherings unless it's with people you are close to.

Jaehyun doesn't know when he started thinking of you, he just catches himself wondering what you're up to often. Is he catching feelings? Is he getting infatuated? Jaehyun doesn't think much of it. If he's developing feelings, then so be it. Would it be bad for him to harbor romantic feelings for his–

Saliva lands everywhere on the counter as Jaehyun launches forward, spitting what he ate at the empty spot of his plate. ''What the fuck..?''

Using a fork, he pokes the egg, turning it sideways, up and down. The food breaks down with all the movement, revealing the receipt that left an overly salty taste on Jaehyun's buds.

Fishing out his phone, he snaps a picture of the devil food in front of him before sending it to you, uncaring if it looks disgusting and all chewed up.

JH: What the hell is this?

Not even a minute, you reply. As if you've been waiting for him to message you.

You: Uh.. egg? Duh.

Jaehyun clicks his tongue.

JH: I know it's a goddamn egg. Why the fuck does it have clumps of rock salts in it? We put iodized, not the huge ones.

You: Heh. *Tongue out and eyes shut closed tightly emoji*

Jaehyun gulps down his water alongside his irritation, eyebrows meeting each other. He tries to settle for the bacon and rice but the demonic egg fucked up his taste buds and now, he can't enjoy his breakfast. Jaehyun should've known his fate was written the moment he decided to prank you.

Little did the royalty know, it was just the start of his road to slow death. Starting from the salty as fuck eggs, Jaehyun soon finds out you took the remote of the TV and so he couldn't watch the movie he had been waiting for since the announcement of its release date, unfortunately Jaehyun is not one to remember his passwords– he couldn't log in on his mobile phone.

What comes next is the kitchen sprinklers. You must've noticed Jaehyun cooks his own food from thereon (the egg incident) and figures out it'll be a good idea to use it against him. Jaehyun didn't see the lack of labels on the sprinklers, and with his hands already memorizing the placement of herbs and spices, Jaehyun grabs what he knows is the right one. Long story short, the prince opts for food delivery as his kimchi jjigae was for the ants. It was like the demon egg all over again, except this time, it was fucking sweet.

3 days later, when Jaehyun's favorite sneakers went missing, he knew he hadn't misplaced them. Is he unlucky that you're out of the city to do your princess duties? Maybe. Is he gonna let this piss him off? No, that means satisfying your goals. This is nothing, Jaehyun can search for it, surely it's somewhere in the house.

Wrong. Well, it is in the area of the house but it's not in the house. Guess where Jaehyun found his fucking sneakers? On the fucking rooftop. How did you even put that there, he doesn't have a clue. In the end, Jaehyun had to climb a ladder and fell once at the third step (he's quite clumsy, yes) before retrieving his shoes.

As Jaehyun sits through a meeting in a stained white (or should he say pink) dress shirt, he is surely determined to get that win back

Acting civil with your fianceé is something you didn't expect after a constant back and forth of ruining each other's day, but you suppose it's only appropriate in a dinner with the family of both sides. Royals like meals as family bonding it seems, not that you know. Or do your parents consider discussing country matters on dinners as one?

Sipping your champagne, you hum quietly at the taste, too busy in your own world to listen to whatever conversation they are having at the other side of the table. That is until your father softly calls your name. You turn to him and pay attention.

''How's your appearances doing so far?''

''Good, I guess..? If it's not, Eunhye won't let me rest for a day or two.''

It's not like the King and Queen only orders you to help in charities and orphanages solely for building a good reputation for you, they also genuinely care about the unfortunate.

''That's great to hear then.'' Queen Miyoung smiles. And even though you're once struck by her beauty, it doesn't sit well with you.

''Hmm?''

What your mother says next emits a confused look from you. ''Prince Jaehyun will be accompanying you in every schedule, especially those that involves the media.''

You frown. ''But I thought it was for my image? Why would I need him to come with me?''

''Because once people see you getting along with your husband, moreover someone known for his kind and compassionate personality, it'll be easier to convince them that you've changed. Prince Jaehyun will be a great help to you.''

Seeing the grin that the man in front of you is not-so trying to hide, you clench your fist around the cutleries. How irritating.

''It was all thanks to the Prince for he voluntarily comes forward to join you on your appearances including those that does not involve medias.''

So the suffering you'll experience for the following weeks was his idea?

Squinting your eyes at the prince, you reach your foot forward, your face remains unchanging. You observe Jaehyun who's happily eating his food for a few seconds before smirking and stomping down on his foot hard enough to make it hard for him to hide his pathetic whimper.

Concern and worries are thrown at him but he dismisses them with his usual flower smile. Jaehyun then looks at you, his eyes diverting your subtly hidden fist, gesturing to punch him as a representative for your irritation at him. Jaehyun tongues his cheek and chuckles. He dares to fucking chuckle?!

Why is he smiling as if he won the olympics? Why is he so smug about this? And more importantly, why is your heart racing as you stare at the dimples shyly peeking out?

You yelp as you accidentally bite your tongue. Before you could even reach for yours, Jaehyun shoves his glass of water to your hands. Everyone is looking at the exchange, you have no choice but to accept his offer. You wanted them to believe this marriage fell apart naturally, and not because you sabotaged it. Though, you plan on doing the latter.

King Jaekyung's snicker rings on your ears. ''Ah, it seems like the two have been getting along. Perhaps the shared apartment was indeed a great idea.''

Your mother follows right after, clapping lightly. ''Right, right. Look at them, treating each other like real lovers. I'm not gonna be surprised if they themselves request for the wedding to be done soon.''

''How lovely. Are you alright though, darling? What has caused you to bite your tongue?'' Queen Miyoung worries.

''It's noth–''

''She was too busy staring at my face, Mom.'' Now, what the flying fuck is this motherfuck trying to play?

Queen Miyoung squeaks. ''Is that so?''

''Yes– my fianceé here even once said I'm too handsome, I could be up as an exhibit in Louvre.''

You give Jaehyun a smile so sarcastic he will know to run for his life the moment you two get out of here. The other people in the room thought it was a smile fondness instead. While Jaehyun sends you a finger heart, you itch to send him the middle finger.

Your mother shares a giggle with Mrs. Jung. ''Ah.. young love.''

Jaehyun earns another stomp.

Days after the dinner with the Kings and Queens sees you and Jaehyun in a kindergarten wearing pink white polka dots aprons. The little humans cheer as their teacher announces that they'll be designing their own cakes today with the help of the visitors. Visitors being you and Jaehyun.

Raising a piece of fruit, you snatch the kids' attention. ''Who wants some strawberries?'' 

''I want to! I want–!'' Little Seol-a makes grabby hands to you, making you chuckle.

''Okay, okay. Say ah..'' Popping the strawberry in Seol-a's mouth, you receive a cute giggle and 'thank you' from the little girl.

As the teacher announces the start of the making, everyone quickly gets to work, eager to create their most beautiful versions of cakes. Since you also have a cake to decorate, you only look at the kids every now and then, checking up on them. So far, everyone's doing good.

A high-pitched voice calls you. ''Can you please help me with the icing..?''

Smiling, you leave your seat and transfer beside Mina. ''What should we do?''

''I want it pink like Seol-a's, it's so pretty!''

Mina's words pull Seol-a out of her focus, turning to the two of you. Seol-a purses her lips. ''But I'm making it for my mommy. Does your mommy likes pink too?''

Mina looks down and her eyebrows crease in thinking. ''No. My mama likes blue, I think..''

Watching the exchange, you could tell that Seol-a doesn't want to tell Mina off but at the same time, she doesn't want her friend to do exactly the same as she's decorating hers specifically at the thought of her mom.

You decide to step up. ''Then, Mina, would you like yours to be blue?''

Mina ponders for a second before nodding, smiling a bit. ''Okay..''

Seol-a perks up. ''Mina! I'll be pink and yours will be blue, and then let's decorate it the same so our mommies would get matching cakes!''

Mina lights up at what she heard. She will have a matching cake with Seol-a, yet also have her own version. The two girls squeals at the cute teddy bears and gushes over the pastel colors their cakes will be. You smile in adoration.

Minutes pass, little humans ask for your assistance until almost everyone at your table is finished. You feel a tap on your back.

''Hi, Rowoon!''

The chubby boy smiles cutely at you, hugging you. ''Teacher, can you come help me please? Teacher Jaehyun is a bit busy with the others.''

Glancing at Jaehyun, a bunch of kids flock around him, calling his name and asking for his help. It has no sign of dwindling down so you nod, heading towards the boy's place after telling your own group that you'll be at the other table. As you help Rowoon with his cakes, you fail to ignore the conversations he's having with the kids due to the proximity.

''I love chocolates, I eat them everyday! Teacher, do you like chocolates?''

''Yes, of course. Chocolates is one of my favorites.''

''I like chocolate too but my mom won't let me eat more than three. Does your mom let you eat a lot of chocolate, Teacher?''

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head at the core memory of Queen Miyoung scolding him for eating too much sweets. ''No, she doesn't. Your teeth will turn bad if you eat a lot of it and mommies are just taking care of you.''

''Turn bad? Like fall out–?!'' 

''Most likely.'' The little boy covers his mouth dramatically, earning another laugh from Jaehyun.

''Teacher! Your cake is so pretty!''

''Why, thank you, Yuna.'' Jaehyun boops her nose with a clean finger.

''You should get an award for having a pretty cake.''

One kid appears. ''My mommy gives me kisses as an award!''

''Me too!''

''Does your mommy gives you kisses too, Teacher?''

What's with these kids and questions about mommies?

''No, she doesn't.''

''Oh no.. is she mad at you?''

Jaehyun giggles. ''She's not. She used to give me kisses but not anymore because I'm a big boy now.''

''Ah, you don't want kisses anymore?''

Thinking he will earn kisses from the little kids if he says no, Jaehyun tells them he loves kisses. Humming, one of them then points a finger.

''Teacher will give you kisses as a reward if your cake is the prettiest!''

Jaehyun follows the path where the kid is pointing at. ''Really?'' His eyes landed on you, still and unmoving. Jaehyun bites his lower lip to stop the laugh rumbling on his chest.

Jaehyun grins. ''Then I should work on making this the prettiest cake ever made.''

You almost choke on your own spit.

Articles after articles, headlines after headlines. Old people gush about how pure your interactions are. Adults nudge each other at how you sweetly stare. Teenagers envies how Jaehyun performs all love language at you. It seems like everything now revolves around the Crown Princess and her lover.

The crowd certainly loves the contrasts between you and Jaehyun whereas you're more carefree and casual while Jaehyun sticks to his formal attitude. One thing that became popular amongst your supporters, or 'shippers', is the picture of you– like the diva that you are– wearing a pink miniskirt, corset top, socks with ribbons on top, mary jane pumps, and a cream loose cardigan sits beside Jaehyun who is dawned in his usual dress shirt, slacks, and blazer. You cannot forget that fanfic you found wherein Jaehyun is a CEO and you're a supermodel. Shippers are imaginative and delusional at the same time.

It's been 2 months since you've started attending events with the prince and it wasn't as hellish as you thought. Maybe because Jaehyun can't cause a problem in public, or maybe he just doesn't find the need to. Nonetheless, that didn't cease the fire that is the prank war. It goes on and on that even Winter finds it hilarious at this point. Who knew the lovely couple searched for a list of pranks to do in their free time so they could piss each other off?

Lately though, you've noticed (actually it was Winter) that your pranks have been getting less harmful to your daily lives and had just become something to enlighten the mood. Like the clown that pops up when you open the fridge and the snake balloon hidden in the tin can. Very uncharacteristically, you even find yourselves posting each other's reactions on your stories. And if Jaehyun created an instagram account just to upload videos and pictures of you, you're not so sure. A thing you're certain though is that the dislike for Jaehyun had faded away and was replaced by something else. Something you're yet to find out.

''A penny for your thoughts?'' A finger snaps you out of your thoughts. Jaehyun grins.

You shake your head and continue looking for the best quality of vegetables as Jaehyun follows you around, pushing your cart. Another thing that you've grown to get used to is doing groceries with Jaehyun. Very domestic, isn't it?

''Can we buy this one?'' Jaehyun points at the packs of big marshmallows.

Frowning, you shake your head. ''What're you gonna need it for? It'll just expired at the cabinet.''

''No, it won't.''

''How so?''

''I'll eat it before you can even say chubby bunny.''

''No, Jeong.''

''But we have a mini chocolate fountain machine at home!''

''Yes, a fountain machine you, may I say–'' You face him. ''–unnecessarily bought. Literally no reason to buy one.''

''Well now I can finally use it and it won't be useless anymore..?''

Tsking, you walk away to look at the meat. In the end, Jaehyun huffs, staring longingly at his marshmallows before tailing you, steps heavy.

After shopping for at most 2 weeks worth of food, you type on your phone while Jaehyun carries all those bags. So much for being a macho man. Winter sends an atrocious idea and forces a laugh out of you.

''What's funny?'' Jaehyun asks like a curious cat, peeking at your phone.

''Winter says we should announce that all of this is fake at the upcoming press conference and film Eunhye's reaction. God, that would be hilarious honestly.''

''Oh..'' And curiosity finally kills the cat. Jaehyun mums. Are you faking it all this time? Are you not enjoying your time with him? Are you faking having fun whenever you're with him, even now?

You are about to ask Jaehyun for the car keys but as someone who spends their entire life under the spotlight, you know a camera when you see one. Pocketing your phone, you stride towards the man at the car beside Jaehyun's. Said man tries to run away but you are quicker with your feet and grab him by his collar, you hear Jaehyun's call of your name.

''What's wro–''

''Give me the phone.''

''Why– what's happeni–''

''Give me the fucking phone!'' Shoving the man to a car, he winces at the pain in his back. When he surrenders his phone, you delete his video and throw it on the ground before stomping on it, crashing it.

Jaehyun calls your name again. ''Why did you do that? Stop, you're choking him.''' Though obviously wanting to calm you down, Jaehyun doesn't touch you anywhere, opting to wash his palm over his face.

You ignore him and focus on the man shivering in your hold. ''Tell me, what the fuck do want?''

''Nothing–''

You dig your forearm deeper to his neck. ''I'm only gonna ask this twice, you fucking twig. What do you want?''

The man struggles to breathe but attempts to answer anyway. ''I–I was.. paid to–'' He wheezes. ''To prove t-that.. Prince Jaehyun isn't what– what he pretends to be.'' The man coughs.

Raising a brow at what you hear, you wrap your hand around his throat and lean closer to his ear. ''Listen here, fucking microphallus. I know this fucker here looks like he's a worldwide known actor but in reality, he can't act for his fucking life. This man doesn't have a fucking future in acting. He can't fake anything, he's too goody shoes. This prince can't do a thing except entertaining the fucking crowd.''

He is genuine and is not pretending in front of the cameras. Is what Jaehyun can hear between your lines.

''So if you're thinking of exposing him and shit– too bad for you, Jeong lives his life by the books.''

Sighing, Jaehyun tugs at your shirt. ''Let's.. let's let him go. He said he was just paid to do it, didn't he?''

Glancing at the prince, you could see the stress on his irritatingly handsome face and annoyingly, you find yourself to hate the foreign emotion on it. Clicking your tongue, you let go of the man but grips his collar again before he can get away. ''Spread misinformations about my fianceé again, you'll be caressing metal bars the next day.''

Jaehyun holds your hand to take it away from the man and fixes his mask. ''Sir, you can send your resumé at the palace and you should be offered a job with monthly payment. Please don't ever damage someone for the sake of quick money. Money wears off in time, but the damage doesn't.''

With that, Jaehyun tugs you away from the scene. During the ride, silence fills the car and as you arrive at the apartment, that's when you realize Jaehyun's hand is still intertwined with you from the moment he holds it until you reach the flat. Why does Jaehyun look like it's the most normal thing? Why is your heart doing the fucking rabbity pumps?

Jaehyun heaves a sigh. ''Damn.. that's actually crazy– I can't even believe it happened. It went by so fast, my brain couldn't process the fact that someone believes I fake my personality and manners in front of the camera. Like–''

You plop to the couch.

''–what did I even do? Did I upset them? Did they say hi to me one time and I didn't say it back? Did they–''

''I punched the guy because I wanted to protect my friend.''

Jaehyun stops arranging the items you bought. ''What–?''

Hugging your knees, you keep your eyes on Jaehyun's. ''It was my friend's birthday and she wanted to celebrate it in this bar, it was called gangbang. Controversial, I know. We were having fun just like we planned to. But a group of guys at the other table starts joining in. We weren't paying attention to them– or at least, I wasn't. But one of my friends starts complaining about how one of the guys 'accidentally' brushes his hand on her ass too many times. Accidental, my ass. No one wants to come forward so I did, being the hero that I am. I talked to the guy calmly and asked what's wrong. Said guy told me my friend was lying but fuck– my friend was this close to crying about it. And then I got pissed at how his friends defends him when the CCTV clearly shows the incident so I fucking punched him and broke his nose.''

''Next thing I know, news outlets reports me getting involved in a brawl and ruining a fucking commoner's nose without including the reason why I did it.'' You scoff. ''Said friend I protected refused a statement and left the country without defending me.''

Jaehyun sits at the carpeted floor, facing you, looking with worry in his eyes. Something in your eyes flashes but disappears before Jaehyun could even determine what it is.

''And the pictures of me sleeping on the streets?''

Jaehyun hums, caressing your hands.

''They told everyone I was so fucking drunk I couldn't even bring myself home and showed videos of me chugging vodkas, whiskeys, beers straight from their bottle. But why didn't they show the part where all those fucking people around me gangs up on me and calls me a fucking pussy, a no fun, and a fucking killjoy. They didn't stop until I agreed on drinking all those fucking liqours.'' You sniffs, you didn't even know when you started tearing up.

''And that video where my bodyguard had to carry me because I wouldn't wake up? The palace was on emergency alert at that time– why? Because alcohol and sleeping pills were mixed inside me. When I tried to explain what happened, no one fucking believed someone slipped me a fucking bunch of sleeping pills– my heartbeat was fucking slowing down and I was over-sedated, Jaehyun. There's no point of telling them the truth when they already decided I was fucking lying. For fuck's sake, I was near to dying that fucking night– god!'' You bury your head in your knees, shoulders shaking as you sob, fist continuously knocking your head hard.

Jaehyun hugs your quivering figure, whispering words that he knows best that'll comfort and calm you. ''I understand you. I believe you. It's okay, love. You're gonna be okay. I'm here, alright? I'm here, love. Everything's gonna be okay.''

Your cries haven't even died down when you look at him. Jaehyun thinks vulnerability was the flickering emotions behind your eyes these past minutes that he failed to catch on.

''Aside from the people who did those shits, Winter is the only one who knows about the truth. Because she's important to me.'' You hiccup, tears streaming down your face. ''Do you get why I'm telling you this, Jeong?''

There's a clue, but Jaehyun doesn't want to get ahead of you. ''..why?''

You chuckle while crying, more tears roll down your cheeks. ''God, you're so fucking stupid, aren't you? Winter is important to me so she knows the truth. I told you the truth because–'' You bow your head down and hold Jaehyun's hands. ''–you're more than just important to me.''

Jaehyun's breath hitches, and the world stops. ''Oh baby..'' He kisses the back of your hands and the top of your head before hugging you tightly.

He attempts to say the words that have been at the tip of his tongue since you decorated cakes with the kids but you cut him off.

''I will hurt you, Jeong, accidentally. I don't communicate. I don't open up. I find it hard to trust people easily despite sharing a close bond with them. I curse more than I say affectionate and loving words. I push away more than I pull. I'm violent. I am broken, I'm a mess.''

Jaehyun smiles, so handsomely it makes your heart ache. ''You don't communicate and open up? That's fine, I can read between your lines. You find it hard to trust people? That's alright, trusts are earned, not bought. You curse more than being lovey dovey? Well, I'm lovey dovey more than cursing. You push more than you pull? Isn't it great that I'm the exact opposite. You're violent? I could do the talking, you could do the punching. You're broken? I will patch you up again and again. You're a mess? So what, you're a beautiful kind of mess. And if you hurt me and wound my heart.. well then– Sorry, Heart.''

Right there and then, the faceless man that you saw at the bar and had a crush on morphs with Jaehyun's. You chuckle. ''Fate is playing with us, isn't it?''

Jaehyun cradles your face. ''And I'm glad it did. Because I met you.''

''You're such a sap.''

''Oh shush, you love it.''

''Maybe, maybe not.''

''Pfft, wait– does this mean we stop the pranks now?''

''Do what the hell you want, but you'll continuing to be pissed off first thing in the morning.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 3, fall in love with your soon-to-be-groom.

A shudder electrifies the fibers of your body as Jaehyun spreads the cold juices of peaches along the lines of your collarbone, his tongue dips in next, easing to freezing temperature with his warmth. He sucks where the sticky liquid lays previously, his cravings of sweetness beaming in glee as the flavor slowly seeps in him.

Your breath heavy, hands moving to caress your boyfriend's blond strands as his kisses travel to your breasts. The flesh of the fruit circles your nipples before Jaehyun dives in, sucking the hard nubs all the while fondling and playing with the other. Quiet moans of pleasure finally escape your lips after minutes of holding back, your head lolls back and your eyes close shut, sighing from the pleasure slowly building up. Slurping sounds bounces off the four walls of your shared bedroom, it's so obscene that anyone who could hear it could certainly feel how hungry Jaehyun is for the mixture of the peach's sweetness and the bits of saltiness coming from your sweat. It's disgusting to think but Jaehyun's cock gets only harder with each taste.

The surface of his hand palms your clothed core, thumbing where he's sure your clit settles and gives the area a slight pressure, he makes circles around the button that elicits a series of whimpers from you.

Fuck. How he wishes to see this image of you everytime. Your glossy eyes, puckered swollen slips, and whole face scrunched up as your body shivers in his hold, back arching as pleas of having him inside you draws out. 

Break me, wreck me, ruin me. Those are everything your body screams. 

Oh, he will ruin you, alright.

Jaehyun rips the remaining pieces of clothing off of you, gripping your legs apart, wide and open just for him. The way your pussy glistens under the dim lights of the room, the prince's lust fuels up until he could no longer bear the desire of devouring you. 

His mouth, his tongue, his body, his mind -- screams for your taste, it craves the feeling of you thrashing against his embrace as you fall apart. And Jaehyun.. he's just a man. One who could only do much to control himself from drowning his face in the sea of tempting your slick.

''Ooh, Jaehyun, please..'''

From the alley your legs created, you are able to see Jaehyun's face and how his brow quirks in question to your plea. He's so fucking cruel, unlike the gentleman and polite prince everyone in your country had loved since the beginning. If they only know.

The pad of his tongue follows the traces of your juice, squeezing the last bits of the peach and lets it trickle down on your pussy. Dipping the tip of his tongue, he wiggles it until he's deep inside your warm tight walls, clenching on his muscle as he fucks you with it.

''Jaehyun–! Fuck!''

Your hips jerks upwards, practically offering your core to Jaehyun's face. That, Jaehyun accepts. Gripping each thigh, he pins you to the bed as he sucks, licks, and devours more than you offer.

Jaehyun's fingers join his tongue, squelches emitting from your soaked pussy as Jaehyun's digits continuously penetrate it. By the time Jaehyun is about to add the fourth finger, he sees your eyes rolling and notices the constant clenches of your walls– a telltale sign of your climax. And Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a bastard in bed.

He pulls away before walking away to fetch something, all the while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Jaehyun reaches the foot of your bed, he tugs his pants and boxers down, revealing a girthy and lengthy dick with an angry tip.

Jaehyun pumps his cock, staring at your sore pussy and fucked out face. Your breathlessness is music to his ears.

''Jaehyun, please..''

''Please?''

You open your legs wider, hands dipping between your legs to spread the cheeks of your pussy. ''It's all yours. Please, fuck me.''

''Fucking hell..'' Jaehyun nudges your legs open as you both moan in unison as his cock pushes past your entrance, veins rubbing against the tight velvet walls. Jaehyun plans to wait for you to adjust, but you shake your head. He smirks, and starts fucking.

''My girl is getting brave, huh? Let's how much you can fucking take.''

God, this is why you love Jaehyun in bed. This is the only time you hear him curse, be rough, and manhandle you in positions you didn't even know you're capable of doing.

You ask for it hard, and Jaehyun gives it every time. Wrapping his hand under your knee, he folds your body until it touches your chest as Jaehyun slides deeper, reaching deep inside you that a bump appears every now and then on your stomach.

''Fuck– do you see that, baby? Look at your stomach, shit, it's bulging. Am I too big for your tight pussy, baby?''

Jaehyun pins you against the headboard with his weight as drools escape the corners of your lips, dribbling down your neck. You grip the top of the headboard for support.

''Ah ah ah! S-so good.. so good!''

Jaehyun chuckles lowly. ''Does it, baby? Tell me what makes you feel good.''

''Y–your big–big cock! Fuck, i-it's so, haahh, so big!''

''That's right. My big fat cock is making my girl feel so good; she can't even construct a proper sentence. Do you know how that makes me fucking feel, baby? I feel like a fucking king, you know. Crown Princess, fucking feisty and always hissing at everyone, crumbling down at the feeling of my cock at her guts.''

Jaehyun plows into you deliciously, white spots showing themselves at different parts of your vision as pleasure takes over your body. ''You're so fucking tight, baby. You're choking me.''

Yelping, you hold onto Jaehyun as he withdraws from your pussy, carrying you as he transfers you to the glass window near the bed, pushing you against it before he starts pounding vigorously once again, teeth sinking to break your skin, lapping the droplets of blood. Lewd moans knock out of your throat. Seeing your reflection from the window, you're reminded of those pornos you've watched as a curious teen.

''Jaehyun– uh, uh, Jaehyun! You're gonna make me come!''

''Then come. Come for me, darling.''

You white out, shuddering in Jaehyun's hold as you clamp down on his cock, white ring appearing around his length. Jaehyun buries his head in the crook of your neck as he chases his own high, groaning as he finally reaches it, pulling out to finish himself on your back.

As a minute passes, you both regain the air your lungs have been desperately needing. Jaehyun makes you face him and kisses your lips full of gentleness, so in contrast to the rough pounding earlier.

And of course, Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a sap after sex.

''I love you so much, baby.''

You snort. ''I do too, idiot. Now clean me up.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 4, abort mission.

Come morning, the sunlight seeps through the curtains and shines on your bed beautifully. Jaehyun wakes up, his day already made at the sight of you sleeping peacefully in his arms. You look adorable, like you couldn't harm a fly. You wouldn't if said fly doesn't harm any of your loved ones.

God, Jaehyun is so fucking in love with you. You smile, his day is made. You breathe, suddenly the weather is perfect. You exist, Jaehyun finds every reason to live. You are the water that keeps Jaehyun tethered.

''What the fuck do you want, Jeong?''

The prince chuckles. 8am in the morning and you're already so grumpy. It confuses a few staff members how Jaehyun fell in love with you. If he won't get in trouble, he'll tell them you're a witch and make him drink some irreversible love potion or what.

''Nothing. You're pretty.''

''... Shut up. Just because you look fucking good in the morning.''

''Thank you, baby. I love you.''

''Ugh, you're too in love with me.''

Jaehyun giggles. ''I am. Will you marry me?''

You stop yawning and look at him as though he grew a second head (or third..?). ''The fuck did you say?''

''Will you marry me, baby?''

You scoff. ''Ask that again if you have a ring to out around me.'' The words are mumbled but Jaehyun manages to hear it.

''What?''

''I said your breath stinks, Jeong.''

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jaehyun laughs deeply, caused by his morning voice. You find that hot but you won't te him because he'll use it against you everytime.

Jaehyun reaches for something behind him, inside the drawer, and faces you again. There you see a small red box on his palm, Jaehyun opens it and reveals the ring you've once mentioned to be your dream ring. Wordlessly, he slips the ring on your finger after taking off the fake one.

''But we're already engaged though.''

''Eh.. that was fake, baby. This one's real.''

You raise a brow. ''I haven't even said yes.''

''You'll say no to me?''

''Pfft, you're getting too cocky. I don't like that.''

''Hmm, sure, love.'' Jaehyun smiles warmly and takes you in his arms again. You bury your head in his chest.

''Jeong,''

Jaehyun hums.

''I hate you for making me feel this way.''

Jaehyun settles his hands on the sides of your face and caresses your cheeks with his thumbs. ''I love you too, witch.''

''Psst,''

''What now, baby?''

''I love you, Jaehyun.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 5 and the last step, be in love and marry each other for real.