#Third Bear Press

[downthetubes]

Third Bear Press launches submissions for their BOXES comics anthology

Third Bear Press, an indie comics publisher and distributor run by Steven Ingram, are looking for comics and articles for Volume Four of their ongoing comic anthology, BOXES

[coquelicoq]

i fucking love prereading. getting documents about what's going to be discussed in a meeting and reading them and then going to the meeting and having context for all the things that are happening. if i could do this in all areas of life i would. send me a list of the words i'm going to need the definition of in order to understand what you will be talking about. give me a rundown of what topics might come up during this social encounter. provide detailed documentation of what to expect in a new setting. i will read the fuck out of that shit.

[nochepsicodelica]

"Stop. Moving," Toji groans, sleepily, as he tightens his arms around you and buries his face into your back. This is the third time you try to wake him up by shifting on the bed and he is not having it.

"It's time to wake up, Toji. If you don't want to get up, you can stay here while I go make us breakfast."

Toji hums in disapproval. "What's the point in staying behind if you're not gonna be here? Let's just..." he sighs, nuzzling his face into your back, getting comfy, again. "...stay in bed a little longer. Let me keep you like this for a few more hours- minutes. I said minutes."

"Baby," you say, through a laugh. "It's almost ten. I know that if you could, you would stay in bed all day-"

"We would stay in bed all day," he corrects, his voice a low grumble.

"We would stay in bed all day," you repeat. "But... I want breakfast, and I know you'll want breakfast, too, once you smell all the food. I know how much you love your bacon," you add, trying to persuade him.

"Brunch sounds better," he mutters, stomping on your argument.

"No, breakfast sounds better," you argue, to which he groans, dramatically—almost childishly. "Oh my god, Toji," you say, in utter disbelief of the way he's acting.

"Shh... let's sleep," he murmurs.

You sigh, defeated. "Five minutes. That's all you get. Five more minutes." Toji doesn't even respond, too busy dozing off to make the most of these measly fives minutes, you "generously" offered. And, yes, you were generous, because five minutes became ten minutes, and then fifteen, until you reached the limit you had set—twenty minutes.

After the twenty minutes, you start moving around a little. You flip onto your back to get a look at the sleeping hulk that's been clinging to you. He just adjusts to the new position, not bothered in the slightest as he rests his head on your shoulder.

"Toji," you call, softly, waiting a few seconds to see if he reacts. When his steady breathing is still all you hear, you decide to try again. "Bear," you call, dragging your fingertip along the slope of his nose. "Wake up," you murmur when his brows pull together. "Hi, baby," you coo, smiling when he just blinks his sleep-ridden eyes.

"That didn't feel like five minutes," he mumbles, his voice raspy.

"It was twenty," you respond, a soft laugh following. You press a kiss to the top of his head and watch the way he subtly eases up a little more. The crease between his brows is gone, now. "Let's go have breakfast, alright? Some coffee will do you good."

"Fine," he grumbles, before rising slowly from where he lays on you, like he weighs tons.

You turn over to see the subtle jut of his lips, a small detail that never fails to make you laugh when he doesn't get what he wants.

"What's that thing you always say to me? 'If you keep pouting, I'm gonna kiss you'," you say, mimicking his voice.

"I'm gonna kiss you," he mutters under his breath, like the grumpiest bear.

"Ooo, I'm sooo scared," you say, your voice doused with sarcasm. "Please, don't do it. I definitely don't want you to kiss me," you jest, smiling to yourself as you walk towards the door. Your hand doesn't even reach the doorknob, before you're caged against the wooden slab. Two enormous hands rest on the door, preventing you from getting it open. He's discovered a loophole that gets you to be the one who wants to kiss him.

"Pay the Toji Tax," he murmurs, tiredly.

"Now, why would I do that? I haven't asked you for help with anything," you argue.

"You need my help getting the door open," he says, matter-of-factly.

"I don't need your help getting the door open. You just need to move out of the way so that I can open it."

"So, ask me to move. Simple, no?"

"Can you pretty please, with a cherry on top move so that I can open the door and make us breakfast?" You plead, your voice monotonous.

"Sure, for three kisses," he says, naming his price.

"It's unfair to Toji Tax me when you're the one keeping both of us from getting out."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but you either pay the price or you rot in here with me until your precious little breakfast time turns into brunch, or even lunch time. Hell, dinner time might even roll around."

You turn around, slowly, your expression contemplative. A hum, just as mindful, reaches Toji's ears.

"You'd starve both of us for three kisses?" You question, your expression unchanging from its depiction of disbelief.

"Shamelessly and repeatedly. You wanna make it seem like kissing me is a job, I can play along and treat it that way. You can't go until you finish your task, and if you do it wrong, you get to do it again."

"Tojiii," you whine.

"Babyyy," he mocks, smirking at your rising impatience.

"Fine," you agree, bending to his will. You reach out to cup his face, but Toji takes a step back before you can touch him.

"What did I just say about getting it wrong? You really don't wanna kiss me, do you?"

"I do," you argue.

"Well, it doesn't feel like it. Seems like you just wanna get it over with so that i'll let you open the door."

"I'm sorry. I do wanna kiss you."

"How bad?" He pokes, loving the way you tilt your head, your expression unamused. "Plead your case, ma. How bad do you wanna kiss me?"

"So bad," you utter.

"Don't believe it," he responds, not moved enough by your words.

"Toji, I wanna kiss you so bad," you repeat.

"No, you don't," he denies. "I'm not feeling how much you wanna kiss me."

"Baby," you start, your voice exaggeratedly sentimental, your gaze filled with a saccharine amount of love. "I wanna kiss you so damn bad. It's not even funny."

"The way you're making it up is funny, though," he fires back. He's having a ball with this, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from cracking. Then, he sees you powering up, getting ready to go full siren. "You got it," he says, encouraging your theatrics.

With a deep inhale, the show commences.

"Pleaseeee! Oh god, please, please, the prettiest of pleases," you cry out. "If you love me—shit—if you value puppy lives... Oh my goodness, I can't even get it out. It's... it's too much. My desire-" you break out of your own drama scene to release a cackle at your word choice. "My... desire to kiss you..." you press your lips together, finding it difficult to hold it together when you see how entertained Toji looks. You use it to your advantage, adding a little head shake and dragging yourself down on the door, appearing to have crumbled to the ground. "I can't contain it. I just... I can't. Please," you whisper, weakly, looking up at Toji, pathetically, from where you sit on the floor.

Toji is very familiar with your dramatic fits, but this one takes the cake. You stunned him for a solid ten seconds. He peers down at you, his hands still planted on the door.

"And you called me dramatic earlier. Did you hear yourself just now? All that for some kisses?"

"Not just any kisses. Your kisses," you respond, with a satisfied smile and a nod.

"Get up," he commands, offering you his hands for assistance in standing up. You take them and push yourself up and off the ground, smiling softly when your hands remain in Toji's. He loves when you look at him like that—with your eyes all shiny and that smile on your lips that expresses the joy you find in these ridiculous moments with him. In one fell swoop, you pull his arms around you and reciprocate the gesture, giving him a big squeeze. Obviously, to him, it's anything but a big squeeze, but it brings a smile to his face anyway.

"Please, let me make you breakfast," you plead.

"You still have to kiss me," he insists.

You smile as you take half a step back to be able to see him. Stubborn as ever, he still really wants his kisses.

"Come here, baby," you call, your voice so sweet that it's almost a coo. You outstretch your hands in preparation for cupping his cheeks.

"Mmm... I like that," he murmurs, lips pulled into a smirk as he tightens his arms around you a little more and starts leaning in. "Three kisses, pretty, but you know I won't complain if you want to give me more."

"We'll see," you tease, smiling as your lips connect for the first kiss. Your hands gently mold into the softness of his cheeks, your fingertips grazing his jaw. It's soft, sweet, a little impatient on both ends, but controlled for the most part. Like you're kissing without a limit, that second kiss is easily melted into and attained, leading you to the third and supposed final one.

Once that one concludes, you decide to be nice and reward him with a bonus kiss. This one lasts longer, and you hum into it, like kissing him is your favorite thing to do in the world. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks a couple times, before you release him with a loud "mmmwah!" and step back, releasing an irrepressible giggle.

"Give me another one, just like that," he requests, taking that step towards you, again. "Come on," he pleads, grabbing your hands and pulling them up to place them on his face. "One more, doll?" His hands lower to your waist, and when you smile and roll your eyes, he knows he's won.

"Alright, only one more, bear," you comply, standing on your tippy toes to meet his lips one. last. time.

Once your lips brush against his, you hold them there for a few seconds. No movement, nothing crazy, just warm softness. You can feel yourself wanting to laugh, but you hold it together for a few a couple more seconds. After you do the same "mmmwah!" sound, you finally let your soft laugh out.

Toji smirks, his gaze darting between your eyes and the lips he just kissed, as he unwinds his arms from your waist and steps back, giving you the space to open the door and let both of you out.

"Toji Tax paid. You can open the door now," he says, grinning contentedly at the way you press your lips together in amusement, before turning around and pulling the door open.

Breakfast would be yet another task and a half for you to complete. With Toji trailing back and forth after you in the small kitchen area, refusing to be anywhere you weren't, you're surprised nothing ended up burning.

[ccarlislecc]

♡ the newlyweds ♡ ♡ you thought maybe your husband's insatiable appetite would cool down after the first few days of being married, but if anything, it’s getting worse ♡ kamo choso, nanami kento, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, fushiguro toji author's note: men who are so painfully downbad for their wife = girl dinner, enjoy!! mdni please!!

choso's gone this long without having sex, be prepared to make up for lost time. he isn’t super familiar with human procedures & traditions, so it wasn’t necessarily his intent to wait until marriage. he didn’t even really know what sex was until he started dating you, & you didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t comfortable with. regardless, your first time is on your wedding night. . .& your second time, & third time, & fourth. . .& so on. 

you remember faintly the first time you kissed choso, him saying that he would be happily content to kiss you & kiss you for the rest of his life. & he would’ve been, but he was too far gone know, eyes rolling back, body unable to process the immense pleasure of your cunt wrapped around him. 

his hands gripped your hips with a desperate intensity as he moved within you, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your joined bodies. choso's normally composed demeanor had completely unraveled, replaced by raw need & desire.

you ran your fingers through his long dark hair, marveling at how undone he had become. his lips found yours in a searing kiss, muffling the moans that escaped unbidden from both of your throats.

"never," he gasped against your mouth, his voice husky with passion. "never knew. . .never knew it could be like this. didn’t know it was this good."

nanami was not typically a risk taker in any form, especially when it came to his wife, but he couldn’t bear to be away from you that long. his work had not allowed him to take off as much time as he would’ve liked. his first few days back were pure torture. he focused on nothing else but the mental image of your tits bouncing as you rode him, or the way your cunt sucked in his fingers each night before he stuffed you full of his cock, or the sound of your melodious voice begging him, telling how good it was. 

so here he was, bending you over his mahogany desk (the blinds shut of course, he wasn’t that risky) wondering how he ever lived without you, without fucking you. sex had been on his mind so infrequently before you. he stroked himself off maybe once a month, or sometimes when he was drunk. but now, he had a hard time going any significant period of time without being balls deep in your sweet cunt. seeing that wedding ring on your finger, gripping onto the wood of his desk, does not help matters in the slightest. 

nanami's fingers dug into your hips as he thrust into you from behind, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your bodies. the office was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin & your muffled moans. you bit your lip, trying to stay quiet, though it was a struggle with the way he was pounding into you.

"god, i've missed this," nanami groaned, his voice husky with desire. "missed my wife. your tight little cunt feels so good."

you whimpered in response, pushing back against him, desperate for more. his hand snaked around to rub your clit in tight circles, making your legs tremble.

"that's it, baby," he murmured. "come for me. let me feel you squeeze my cock."

you’re entirely unsurprised by gojo's behavior. you actually don’t think there will come a time when satoru is not desperate for you at all hours of the day. he could be mid-mission, literally killing a curse, & he’ll send some stupid horny text. "pls :( need nudes, will die without." you suppress the biggest eye roll.

your eyes are surely rolling, though, when he gets home & shows you what he’s been thinking about all day at work, what had him so worked up. . .thoughts about his pretty wife & her pretty pussy.

you can't help but smirk as satoru presses you against the wall, his lips hungry on your neck. his hands roam your body with urgent need, like he hasn't touched you in weeks rather than hours; it was only that morning that he’d stuffed his tongue in your cunt before dashing off to a meeting. "missed you," he murmurs between kisses. "couldn't focus all day."

“I couldn’t tell," you tease, recalling his stream of increasingly needy texts. "begging me for nudes didn’t tip me off at all."

he chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "can you blame me? look at you."

his hands slide down to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. you can feel how hard he is already, his desire evident through his pants. "someone's excited," you whisper, nipping at his earlobe.

satoru groans, grinding against you. "you have no idea. been thinking about this all day. about you."

he groans, pressing his hips against yours. "those pictures kept me going. but the real thing is so much fucking better."

his fingers find the hem of your shirt, sliding underneath to caress bare skin. you gasp as he cups your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.

"satoru," you breathe, melting into his touch despite your earlier exasperation. he’s gotta make it up to his poor wife for leaving her home all day long. 

a week-long getaway to a penthouse with your new husband, suguru, had sounded like a dream, & of course it was, but you feared you weren’t making it out of this vacation without a positive pregnancy test. 

his hands gripped your hips with an intensity that would surely leave bruises, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. every thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, leaving you gasping and clinging to him desperately. his usual composure was completely shattered, replaced by raw need and desire.

your nails digging into his back as he drove into you relentlessly. his dark eyes were wild with lust, fixed on your flushed face.

"that's it, love," he growled, his voice husky & strained. "take all of me. let me fill you up."

your body trembled, teetering on the edge of bliss. you could feel the heat of his skin, smell his intoxicating scent, hear the low groans rumbling in his chest. it was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. the intensity of his words sent a shiver down your spine. part of you wanted to resist, to remind him of your carefully laid plans—but your body betrayed you, arching into his touch & silently begging for more. his hand slid down to caress your lower abdomen, his touch gentle despite the ferocity of his thrusts. "you'll look so beautiful," he murmured. "glowing, swollen with our baby."

you were pretty sure you’d never experienced exhaustion like this before, & yet you wouldn’t have it any other way. sukuna was practically tethered to you, night & day; you knew he exceeded the stamina of typical men, but this was setting the bar a little too high. he was breaking your poor cunt. 

"‘kuna, I c-can’t, can’t take anymore, s’too much," you’d babble each morning & each night, tears staining your pillow along with your drool, nails tearing into the sheets. you were pretty sure some of the remnants of your mascara from your wedding day still remained somewhere on your eyes, you hadn’t the time for skincare. 

"of course you can, wife. you always take me so well, like you were made for me," he purrs, chest falling over your back, pressing you into the sheets, biting the lobe of your ear, ruining you. & he was such an asshole, calling you wife, as if he cared at all for your silly little human rituals, it was just another way for him to tease you. 

"please," you gasped, not even sure what you were asking for anymore. your mind was foggy, overwhelmed by sensation.

sukuna chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating through your body. "such sweet sounds you make for me, wife. I’ll never tire of them." his hand snaked around to grip your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head swim. you felt him swell inside you, somehow growing even larger. "one more," he growled. "give me one more, & I’ll let you rest."

his chuckle rumbled through you, low & dark, watching your hips draw back & forth to meet his. "see? your body knows what it needs," sukuna murmured, his breath hot against your neck.

it must have been the dress, you think a couple hours later, drifting in & out of sleep while you can. soon you'll both be ready for the nth round. or maybe the lingerie. . .you don't really know what's causing him to be this insatiable. sukuna had always loved your body, your face covered in his cum, your cunt widening around his cocks, but this. . .this was a whole new level of pussydrunk.

toji is determined to christen every goddamn inch of your apartment. it’s practically a game to him. 

"no, toji, not on the table, we eat here," you whine, but your attempts at swatting him away as he pushes you over the counter so delicately, humping your ass, groaning into his fist. he hoped there came a point when his wife’s ass didn’t make him whiney & sex-brained like a teenager, but he doubted it. 

"please, baby," he groans, mouthing at your clothed pussy. "let me taste you. I need it."

you can't help but melt at his desperation, your resolve crumbling. with shaky hands, you push your panties to the side. toji lets out a guttural moan at the sight of your glistening folds, diving in eagerly.

his tongue laps at you hungrily, like a man starved. you cry out, gripping the edge of the table for support as your knees threaten to give way. toji's large hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he devours you.

"fuck, you taste so good," he mumbles against your sensitive flesh. "never get enough of you."

♡ fin ♡

thank you for reading! comments, likes, & reblogs are so, so appreciated, but I love you non-interacting people, too ♡ here's my masterlist! mwah 🩷 xoxo, carlisle

[flwrstqr]

⠀⠀[⠀谷. ) KISS ME ⟡ WHEN YOU REFUSE THEIR KISSES

𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 𖹭 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗆𝖾, 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗄𝗒 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝑙’ enhypen & fem!rea 9OO established relationship でも petnames skinship kissing ◜ᯅ◝ fluff reaction ( clicks )

다니 ܃ apologize for not posting in a while TT i was neglecting lots of fic 😞 but i hope fleuries enjoy (also thank you lili bear for won's & hoon's)

HEESEUNG

"baby," heeseung whines, leaning in again, lips already puckered. "just one. a tiny one."

you tilt your head back, dodging effortlessly. "i just finished my makeup, hee."

he huffs, hands sliding around your waist, pulling you into him. "so?" his breath is warm against your cheek as he nuzzles in, pressing teasing kisses along your jaw, stopping just short of your lips.

"so, you'll ruin it," you murmur, stubborn but faltering.

heeseung chuckles, low and sweet, before dipping down, stealing a lingering kiss anyway. "worth it," he mumbles against your lips, hands tightening their grip.

you groan, pushing at his chest. "heeseung—"

"shh," he grins, stealing another. "my baby’s too pretty not to kiss."

JAY

jay glances at you from the driver’s seat, his coat draped over your shoulders. at a red light, he turns to you, eyes soft, lips already tilting into a smile. "baby," he murmurs, leaning in, his voice a gentle plea. "one kiss."

you shake your head.

jay blinks, tilting his head. "huh?. but he tries again, leaning closer, his cologne wrapping around you. "just a little one?"

you turn away dramatically. "nope."

he exhales, feigning offense. "princess, what did i do?" his fingers brush your jaw, coaxing you gently. when you still don’t budge, he sighs, defeated but endlessly patient, pressing a kiss to your hand instead.

"i’ll earn it back," he promises, grinning as the light turns green.

JAKE

jake watches mid-conversation, lips already pursed, waiting for you to lean in. but when you don’t—when you just blink at him like you don’t see his expectant look—his face falls.

“baby,” he whines, voice all soft and pleading. his lower lip juts out in the cutest pout, and he leans in closer, brows furrowed. “my kiss?”

“later,” you murmur, biting back a grin.

wrong answer. “later?” his hands find your waist..“no, no, no. now.”

“baby.”

“no, don’t ‘baby’ me,” he huffs, gripping your chin gently to make you face him. “c’mon, pretty baby. just one.”

you cave. and he smiles against your lips, victorious.

SUNGHOON

sunghoon raises a brow, tilting his head when you dodge his lips for the third time. “really?” he says, voice smooth.

“really,” you echo, barely holding back a grin.

he exhales through his nose, feigning nonchalance as he leans back against the couch, arms stretched over the cushions. “huh. okay.” but he keeps stealing glances at you, lips subtly pursing, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

cute.

you pretend not to notice, flipping through your phone until you hear the tiniest sigh—soft, barely there. giving in, you shift closer, cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his pout.

his lips twitch. “…you’re so annoying,” he murmurs, but he’s already pulling you into another kiss, softer this time, like he’s making up for lost time.

SUNOO

“okay, is that what you want?” sunoo huffs, arms crossed, lips pursed in the cutest little pout. “you wanna make me suffer?”

you bite back a smile, tilting your head. “suffer? i barely did anything.”

. “barely—” he scoffs. “i’ve been trying to kiss you for the past five minutes, and you keep dodging me..” you can’t help it—you giggle. that only makes him sulk harder, cheeks puffing out as he glares at you.

“fine,” he grumbles, turning away. “no more kisses. ever.” you reach for him, cupping his face and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

sunoo melts instantly, smile breaking through mid-kiss.

“…hmpf. you’re lucky i love you,” he mumbles, stealing another.

JUNGWON

jungwon leans in, eyes half-lidded, lips barely brushing yours—only for you to turn away at the last second.

he stills. “oh.”

his smile falters, just a little, and he blinks at you, processing. “…did i do something?”

his voice is soft, careful, but there’s a flicker of concern in his gaze. he tilts his head, scanning your face, like he’s searching for something he might’ve missed.

“baby,” he tries again, this time with the tiniest pout, “are you mad at me?”

you shake your head, biting back a grin.

jungwon presses his lips together, eyes narrowing slightly. then, in the quietest voice—“then why won’t you kiss me?”

with a quiet laugh, you cup his cheeks and press a lingering kiss to his lips.

he sighs into it, happy again. “don’t do that,” he mumbles.

RIKI

riki leans in, but you barely glance up from your phone. “not now,” you mumble.

he freezes mid-motion. “oh?” when you don’t budge, he leans back, crossing his arms with a dramatic scoff. “fine. you wanna avoid my kisses? bet.”

your eyes flick up. “bet?” his lips curl into a mischievous smirk. “yeah. first one to give in and kiss the other loses.”

you snort. “that’s ridiculous.”

“sounds like something a loser would say.” and just like that, it’s war. riki spends the whole day getting way too close—leaning in like he’s about to kiss you, then pulling away last second with a grin. but you give it right back, making him suffer every time he instinctively chases your lips.

by nighttime, he cracks first.

“okay, whatever,” he grumbles, grabbing your face. “i lose.”

he kisses you way too long to call it a punishment.

[noredemptionhere]

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 ⋆˙⟡♡ 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴!𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙺𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼!𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

no warnings—just fluff

ᡣ𐭩| sevika isn’t ticklish. except in one spot. you found it by accident, barely brushed your fingers there, and she flinched. the realization hit you both at the same time. she narrowed her eyes. “don’t.” you grinned. “got your ass.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika is secretly the biggest hypocrite. tells you to “be careful” but gets into fights twice a week. says she “doesn’t like sweets” but always steals bites from your dessert. acts like she’s all serious, but the moment you’re out of sight? she’s wrapping herself in your blanket like a burrito.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika rarely gets sick, but when she does? she’s miserable. won’t admit she’s sick, won’t take medicine, just sulks in bed with a blanket over her face. you try to help, and she just groans, “leave me here to die.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika makes the worst coffee. it’s either jet fuel or straight-up bean water—there is no in-between. and yet, she still drinks it like it’s fine. if you complain, she just slides the cup toward you. “all you jealous bitches got nothing on me.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika is good at cards. too good. it’s infuriating. she doesn’t even try. she just sits there, unreadable, waiting for you to make a mistake. when you finally do lose, she just smirks, shuffling the deck with lazy precision. “wanna go again?”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika does not ‘scoot over.’ if you want to sit beside her, you make it work. you push at her, wriggle into the smallest available space, throw a leg over hers—and she still won’t move. just lets you struggle until you’re satisfied, smirking the entire time.

ᡣ𐭩| she does not like sticky things. syrup? hate. honey? disgust. the one time you kissed her after eating a popsicle, she physically recoiled. you had to follow her around the apartment with sticky lips while she threatened to throw you out.

ᡣ𐭩| she talks in her sleep. not often, but when she does, it’s nonsense. once, she mumbled, “no, i don’t want the frog,” and you spent weeks trying to figure out what it meant. she refuses to acknowledge this ever happened.

ᡣ𐭩| her sneezes are terrifying. she tries to hold them back, but when they come out, it’s like a gunshot. the first time it happened, you screamed. she laughed so hard she had to sit down.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika’s hands are always warm. annoyingly so. you press your cold fingers against her just to hear her complain, and she always does. “fuck’s sake—” but she doesn’t pull away. just sighs and lets you steal her warmth like the menace you are.

ᡣ𐭩| she has a soft spot for the dumb things you love. that one stupid tv show you’re obsessed with? she’s seen every episode. that weird little stuffed animal you’ve had since childhood? guarded with her life. she pretends to be indifferent, but then you catch her muttering about the plot holes in your favorite series like it personally offended her.

ᡣ𐭩| she grumbles when you move too much in bed. full-on, deep-chested grumbling, like a bear being disturbed from hibernation. you shift once? she sighs. you shift again? she tightens her grip. the third time? “seriously?” and suddenly you’re locked in place.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika has the world’s worst sleep schedule. she’ll tell you she’s going to bed early, and then you’ll wake up at 3 AM to find her standing in the kitchen, eating leftovers with her fingers and flipping through a book she has been obsessed with like she’s solving a murder case.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika cannot whisper. she thinks she can, but her whisper is just her normal voice, slightly lower. if she tries to say something discreet in public, people from across the room will turn to look. you’ve stopped letting her tell you secrets in quiet places.

ᡣ𐭩| she refuses to eat the last bite of anything. no explanation. no logic. just a deep-seated refusal to finish a plate completely. she’ll sit there, arms crossed, staring at the single remaining bite like it personally offended her. you’ve started eating it for her out of spite.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika hates when you’re mad at her. not because she can’t handle it—she can. but because she doesn’t know what to do. she just kind of… hovers. pokes at you. drops things near you so you have to pick them up and acknowledge her existence.

ᡣ𐭩| she thinks she’s subtle when she checks you out. she is not. she does the whole slow, full-body glance, then immediately acts like she wasn’t just devouring you with her eyes.

ᡣ𐭩| sevika sighs like she’s got a mortgage and three kids. you’ll say something mildly annoying, and she’ll exhale like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. you once asked her why she does that. she just looked at you and sighed again.

ᡣ𐭩| she pretends she doesn’t like sweets. but every time you get something sugary, she takes a bite. every. single. time. and if you ever try to call her out on it, she just shrugs. “tastes better when it’s yours.”

ᡣ𐭩| sevika acts like she’s above petty behavior—but she’s not. one time, you jokingly called another woman “pretty,” and for the rest of the night, sevika miraculously forgot how to do anything for herself. needed help unbuckling her belt, unbuttoning her shirt, everything.

[gojhoes]

satoru's brain was struggling to work properly as he was completely overcome by the sensation of you. your skin was unbelievably soft, your breasts sat so nicely without any clothes, and god, that pussy sucked him in with a vengeance. it was as if he was being punished for not fucking you sooner.

your body was perfect. the curve of your waist and hips drove him crazy- he dug his fingers into the soft flesh below your ribcage and urged you closer. your back arched as you pushed your ass into him to fuck yourself on his cock. he drove into you maddeningly deeper, and your walls fluttered around him in approval.

"you're so perfect," satoru breathed. he leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back so he could kiss the side of the neck. "can't believe i waited this long."

you moaned loudly when his cockhead rammed into your cervix, and you flinched bodily. the sound of your whines made him feel drunk with pure lust; he'd needed you so badly for far too long. satoru placed his hands on either side of your head for stability and snapped his hips into your ass at a dizzying pace.

"satoru, mmmph-" you cried out. his cock twitched with pleasure at the sound of his name in your mouth. "you're so big."

he let out a chuckle through his shortened breaths. "i know. bet you're stuffed full, yeah?" you nodded your head frantically, pathetically. "no one's ever fucked you so good, huh?"

you shook your head, and the frustrated whine you let out next sent a wave of heat from his head to toes. "fuck, satoru, i need more."

satoru groaned at your shameless plea. electricity shot through his cock, his heavy balls twitching as he felt a warning of his approaching release. you were so good, too good. he needed you like this for the rest of his life. the strong-willed, bratty, independent sorcerer reduced to a pliant, dripping, pathetic mess underneath him. he loved every bit of it.

"touch your clit for me," satoru commanded. and you did, instantly, obediently. he would do it for you, but he was so pussydrunk that all he wanted to focus on was fucking you right. he leaned back and grabbed you by the hips and thrusted at a pace so quick it surprised even himself. your moans matched his own, only fueling him even more. "give me one more. cum on my cock, pretty girl."

the praise and instruction were your undoing. your entire body trembled with every wave of pleasure as your third orgasm ripped through you. your pussy clenched around him rhythmically and fuck, did you just squirt or were you always this wet when you came?

and he was lost, completely fucked out and drowning in the bliss that was having you like this. his muscles tightened and his hips moved erratically as his breaths came in shorter and shorter. you'd gone limp beneath him, but you still managed to meet his every thrust with one of your own as though you couldn't bear not to have him as deep as possible. one last flutter of your cunt sent him over the edge, and he came hard. spurt after spurt of his seed painted your walls with every twitch of his cock. the sounds that left his mouth were unlike any he'd made for anyone before, a testament to how long he'd wanted you. your name slipped off his honeyed tongue like a prayer until he stilled his movements.

you sucked in a sharp breath as his cock slowly slipped out of your tight, warm walls. satoru was in awe when he caught sight of his cum beginning to trickle out of your puffy, ravaged folds. and, he thought, what a waste it would be it leaked onto the bed. before you could roll onto your back and off your knees, he shoved two long fingers back into your cunt and smiled at the way you cried out and squeezed him tight.

short scene for my longfic

[slut4thebroken]

Teddy Bear

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Tommy Shelby x step daughter!reader

Summary | Your (step)dad uses you as stress relief.

Warnings | Smut, technically incest ig, praise, innocence kink, corruption, creampie, too many pet names, daddy kink kinda.

Words | 1.1 k

Notes | Idk if corruption + age difference are the right descriptions but I’m so fucking exhausted that I literally can’t figure out anything better lol. Feel free to lmk if y’all think something else would fit more than this.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 14: corruption + age difference

Read this before continuing ❤️

You whined at the feeling of his fingers curling almost violently against your walls, trying to get you warmed up as quickly as possible. Tommy had stormed into your room, startling you awake. He barely said a word as he ripped the covers away and pulled your panties off your body. He didn’t even bother removing your nightie before climbing over you and shoving two fingers inside. Your legs wrapped around his hips and he suddenly leaned down to kiss you, knowing that it always makes you needier. The kiss was messy and sloppy and desperate as he pressed the heel of his hand against your clit and forced a third finger inside you. 

He was starting to focus on spreading his fingers, working you open for his cock rather than actually trying to pleasure you. After only a few minutes, he removed them and opened his pants, not even bothering to undress. You hugged your teddy bear for comfort and whined at the uncomfortable pressure when he pushed his cock against your entrance, struggling to fit. 

“Come on, little one… Let me in.” He whispered, voice low and raspy. He kept pushing until he finally breached your opening, forcing a startled sound of pain from you. “Good girl.” He groaned, not stopping until he was buried completely inside you, forcing your walls to stretch almost painfully wide to accommodate his girth. Without even giving you a moment to adjust, he slowly drew his hips back, then pushed forward again at the same speed, making you whimper. 

“Daddy,” You whined, staring up at him with teary eyes. Your walls were desperately fluttering around his cock, trying to expel the intrusion.  

“You can take it.” He said softly, already starting to speed up. You whimpered and hugged your teddy bear to your chest even tighter. “You can fucking take it.” He gruffed. You could tell that he was only getting more worked up. After barely a few minutes, his pace got even faster until he was quickly bucking into you, ignoring your soft cries and whimpers.  

However, the pain was starting to go away as the pleasure of him fucking you took over. It was still too much, too soon though. But Tommy didn’t seem to care about how you were feeling at all. The fact that you were starting to feel better didn’t change anything in the way he rutted into you desperately, grunting and panting as he focused on his own pleasure. 

“You’re just the perfect little girl for daddy, aren’t you?” He cooed, almost mockingly. “So tight, making the sweetest little sounds, letting me use you however I want… Such a good girl.” You whined and blushed at the praise, hiding the bottom half of your face behind the teddy bear. 

Suddenly leaning up, he grabbed the tops of your thighs, then started snapping his hips into you at breakneck speed. You cried out and squeezed the stuffed animal even tighter, trying to cope with the overwhelming feeling. 

When he just kept pounding you at a brutish pace, you finally whimpered out, “Daddy, please slow down.” 

In response, he adjusted his grip on your thighs and shushed you before fucking you even harder. “You’re my good girl. You can take it.” He gruffed, pounding your already sore pussy without paying any mind to your reactions. “You just lay there and hug your teddy bear, love. I need this.” His breathing was growing heavier from the exertion. 

“It hurts.” You whined. 

“Just a little longer, baby. I’m almost done.” His cheeks were a little flushed as he panted, only focusing on rapidly bucking his hips to bring himself closer to his release. Each time the blunt head of his cock kissed your cervix, you whimpered in discomfort and your face scrunched up a little more from the slight pain. 

“Such a good girl…” He cooed, dragging his gaze over your face, admiring your flushed cheeks and teary eyes, before drifting down to your body. “Let daddy see your tits, little one.”

You whined and looked away as your blush darkened, but reluctantly reached for your nightie to pull it up the rest of the way, making him groan at the sight. Your nipples were already pebbling from the cool air and your breasts were moving embarrassingly with each thrust. 

“You are so beautiful, angel.” He said breathily and your blush got even darker. “Such pretty little tits, and such a perfect little cunt… made just for daddy.” You mewled at his words and he let out a breathy laugh. 

“Please..” You whined. 

“Almost there, baby.” He panted quietly, his thrusts becoming even more desperate and frantic. The sight of you just laying under him and taking it was exactly what he needed right now to take his mind off of everything. It reminded him that no matter how stressful things got, he had you to make him feel better. “Ready for my come, sweetheart?” He cooed, voice thick with arousal. 

You nodded with a blush, hugging your teddy bear again, but making sure he could still see your breasts like he wanted. Your soft little whimpers and moans had his balls drawing up tight, preparing for his release. But you quietly whining, “Please, daddy,” was what sent him over the edge.

He slammed into you with a grunt of satisfaction, the force of his hips jerking you up the bed a little bit. You whimpered and buried the bottom half of your face in the stuffed animal, feeling the discomfort and slight pain, but not wanting to interrupt him. He rode out his orgasm, depositing every last drop of his seed deep in your greedy cunt. Even after the pleasure faded, he didn’t move for a while as he caught his breath. 

“Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down over you, making you whimper when his cock shifted inside your sore pussy. He gently grabbed the teddy bear and pulled it away, setting it on the bed beside you, then he captured your lips in a soft kiss, grunting when your walls fluttered around his sensitive cock. You whined when he pulled back, and again when he pulled his cock out, but he ignored it. 

Tommy cupped your cheek and just stared at you for a moment, dragging his gaze over your flushed cheeks and youthful features. “My good girl…” He murmured, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Thank you, little one. Daddy really needed this.” He smiled a little, watching your blush darken. You nodded shyly in response and he finally leaned back up. 

He tucked his cock back in his pants, then pulled your nightie down again and handed you the teddy bear. After pulling up the covers, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, making your whole face turn a little pink. 

“Go back to sleep, love. I’ll check on you in a few hours, alright?” You nodded obediently and he couldn’t help but plant one last kiss on your lips before going back to his study. 

[whateveriwant]

Okay last one I swear

Some more silly, goofy, carefree sex with Simon because I love him <3

Simon who turns the pictures on your nightstand around because, even in spirit, he'll not have your nan bearing witness to what he's about to do to you.

Simon who tells bad jokes in the middle of sex that make him laugh so hard he loses his erection.

Simon who promises your breath doesn't smell in the morning, but the fact that he doesn't kiss you until after you've brushed your teeth is very telling.

Simon who gets distracted by the TV playing in the background because “D’ya know hyenas have 20cm clits?”

Simon who talks a big game and swears he's got the skills to back it up, but the moment he pushes inside you he immediately goes dumb.

Simon who’s so used to your shenanigans he doesn't even flinch when you sneak up behind him, grab him by the hips, and pretend to hump his butt.

Simon who hates when you press your icy toes against his legs, so he gets even by “warming his hands” between your thighs.

Simon who doesn't join you in your roaring belly laughter when he manages to somehow shoot his cum into his own eye.

Simon who tries whispering naughty things in your ear, only to find out you're ticklish when your shoulder slams into his chin.

Simon who's giving you 100% of his attention until he hears the delivery man puttering outside, and then he's darting out of bed, sex a total afterthought, as he makes sure he doesn't become a victim to porch pirates for the third time this month.

[heirofshadowsingers]

Wanna be yours

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: When you fall alseep on his shoulder, Azriel does not know what to do, and everyone are being so damn loud

word count: 2.2K

warnings: this is pure fluff and azzie being utterly smitten and fussing shadows

a/n: hiii! this is the first fanfic i've written for acotar, i've fallen down the rabbit hole lately and made this blog. and i just had this idea and had to write it, thought i might as well post it. hopefully someone will enjoy it<3

Azriel thought he had learned how to master his cool mask. Beyond everything he had experienced as The Night Court’s spymaster, nothing had tested him more than his family – a bunch of busybodies who drove him insane most of the time. He had played the role of chaperone between Cassian and Nesta, had been the one to drag Cassian’s ass out of The Summer Court when he wrecked that building and, for the third year in a row now, he had to re-decorate after Cassian and Feyre decorated the living room drunk.

Actually, the more Azriel thought about it, Cassian was usually the one who tested his control and threatened to ruin his cool composure. 

And yet, despite years of practice, he forgot how to breathe when your head fell onto his shoulder. He had to force himself to remain nonchalant as your luscious scent overtook his senses. The river house was still loud and full of life, and the rowdy Winter Solstice party had not yet reached its peak. It was long past midnight and his family showed no signs of slowing down. The faelights above cast a golden light over their drunk faces as Mor continued to pour wine into all their glasses, declaring, “No one is allowed to go to bed until dawn!” 

Which was why, an hour ago, Azriel had found himself slipping away to the couch in the corner of the room. Varian had joined him shortly after, the two of them chatting quietly while watching everyone else continue their quest to get as drunk as possible. Azriel didn’t know if it had been wishful thinking, or just pure naivety, that had made him believe Winter Solstice would be calmer after Nyx was born, but he had been wrong. After Feyre and Rhys had put him to bed earlier -- Rhys had been the one to pull out the fancy bottles. 

While it warmed him to know that nothing had really changed, that his family was still the same after everything they had been through, Azriel was also the same; he still preferred to wake up the next day and remember what had happened the night before. 

Although, he doubted he would ever be able to forget anything that involved you. You had joined him and Varian in the corner a while ago, stumbling and falling next to him on the couch in a drunken mess. His shadows danced around you as you giggled to yourself, and Azriel thought that the sound of your laughter was the best Solstice gift he had ever received. 

The knitted gloves you had made and given to him earlier were a close second. 

“So your hands won’t get so dry from the cold,” you had told him shyly, your cheeks flushed, and his heart had nearly burst out of his chest. Two days prior you had spotted him coating his hands in a thick layer of the salve Madja made for him, his scarred skin tended to get tight and uncomfortable, and even worse so when the temperatures dropped and the air became crisp and dry. 

He most likely would not get the chance to wear them very often, the soft silky yarn was not made to withstand any fighting or training, and he could not bear the thought of ever losing or ruining them.

But it had still not stopped him from blushing as he opened the gift -- Cauldron, he blushed just thinking about them. The image of you rushing home and knitting him a pair of gloves after he told you how dry his hands became during winter... yeah, Azriel would never forget anything when it came to you.   

And when you sat so close, your body pressing tightly up against his, warm and inviting, there was just no way to overlook the emotions that sparked in his chest. Your words were slurred as you talked about an elderly female you had met at the market earlier that day.

Though, it did not matter that the story you were drunkenly telling him was so ridiculously incoherent, your soft voice still enthralled him. Because if you wanted to talk to him, well, he would listen to whatever you had to say. Always. 

But when your voice had faltered and your head fell to his shoulder, Azriel did not know what to do.

Varian was quick to join the others again when he noticed you leaning on him, leaving him alone with you in the corner. Despite Cassian’s and Rhys’s loud voices booming through the room, arguing about something that had happened during the snowball fight that morning, you had fallen asleep right there on his shoulder. Your lips set in a small pout and your dark lashes resting delicately against your cheeks. 

Azriel could not move, could still not breathe, in fear of waking you. A single shadow brushed against your cheek, soothing and gentle, and you let out a content sigh. It took everything not to wrap his arms and wings around you and winnow away; the urge to tuck you in under a heap of blankets and hold your body close overwhelmed him. 

And you were not even doing anything more than leaning on his shoulder. But it was all it took for Azriel to lose his cool completely. 

‘So beautiful’ his shadows whispered around him. It had been a year since you had first walked into the training ring, into his life, and the shadows had not stopped whispering about your beauty since. 

As you had introduced yourself as the new healer, employed specifically to help Madja with the Valkyries and their injuries from training, Azriel had struggled to restrain the shadows. He had never felt them be so curious before, swirling eagerly around him before darting off toward you. He had managed to call them back just before they reached you, but they had still caught your attention, and when he tried to apologize -- you had ignored him. 

Instead, you had focused on the fresh wound on his chest and scolded him for not having it looked at. He had been too stunned to say or do anything else. 

But the shadows had not lied; you were the most beautiful female he had ever seen. Your hair flowed around you in effortless waves, eyes shining with compassion, and you had not looked at him in fear or reluctance like most did. No, you had reprimanded him and forced him to sit down while you tended to his wound. 

You had owned his heart from that very first day, even if he had not told you that yet. 

“Feyre, look!” Cassian’s voice made him snap back into reality. “There’s your new painting!” Azriel glanced up only to discover that his family had turned their attention to the corner, looking at him and you with knowing smirks.

“Ohh yeah, I can see it,” Nesta mused and bit the inside of her cheek to stop the grin on her face from growing. “'The love-sick Spymaster and his dreamy Angel.'” 

Feyre could not stop her giggles even as she tried to end his suffering, “C’mon guys, don’t tease him. I think it’s sweet. They are taking things slow and at their own pace, leave them alone.” 

Azriel's face grew hotter, and yet, he remained as still as possible, afraid that any sudden movement would make you stir and wake up.

Though, he would have to agree; you were an angel. The kindest, most loving, and charmingly stubborn angel to exist in the world. In any world.  

“Sweet?” Amren rolled her eyes. “You need to grow a pair and tell her already, boy. We are all sick of watching you two dance around the fact that both of you want to devour each other whole. It’s nauseating.” 

Cassian let a loud howl thunder through the room but quickly smacked a hand over his mouth to stifle it as Azriel sent a icy glare in his direction. 

“Shut up,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low. He let his gaze fall to you again, hoping the annoying chatter had not disturbed you. “You are going to wake her.” 

“I think you just proved our point, Azzie,” Cassian sniggered and shared a mischievous look with Rhysand, no doubt contriving more ways to get under his skin.

And the only response Azriel could think of was, “Shut up.” 

Thankfully, they seemed to take some pity on him as they returned to whatever conversation had kept them busy earlier.

Or perhaps, they noticed how his shadows had moved across the room, swirling along the walls in annoyance, ready to strike at any moment if anyone disturbed you. Azriel released a heavy sigh of exasperation, reminding himself that they were just a bunch of idiots and that he loved them dearly. 

“You know, your voice is far more comfortable to listen to than theirs,” you murmured suddenly, your voice full of sleep and still slightly slurred. Azriel couldn’t stop the shiver running down his spine, his shadows quickly drew themselves back and danced across your smooth skin, checking to see if you had been bothered or needed any assistance.

When he looked down your eyes were still closed, but a playful smile flickered across your face. 

Azriel’s mouth ran dry, “I’m sorry-- I tried to tell them.” 

“I know,” you told him and opened one eye to peek up at him, clearly amused. “I heard you.” You made no attempt to move away from him, and, for that reason, he did not attempt to move either. When you closed your eyes again he could’ve sworn you pressed yourself into his side a little bit closer and, Gods, had it always been so difficult to breathe? Azriel wasn’t sure anyone's presence had ever made him feel so utterly captivated. 

And, he just really, really, fucking adored you. 

Before he could think of a proper reply though, you spoke again, “We should do this more often. You make a good pillow.” 

When your lips twitched into a small smirk, Azriel knew you could hear how fast and hard his heart was beating, and his ears burned from his own awkwardness. So all he said was, “I think it’s time to get you to a real bed.” He shifted his body to get up, lifting his arm to wrap around you. “C’mon, I’ve got you,” he kept his voice low; only for you to hear. Your slender hand stopped him, pressing into his thigh dangerously high, forcing him to remain on the couch. 

“Noo,” you pouted. “Please don’t make me move yet... can’t we stay here like this for a couple more minutes?” It did not help his poor racing heart slow down. “...Or maybe even an hour?” 

And how could he deny you that when you looked at him with those beautiful eyes? How could he ever deny you anything? 

“Fine... here,” he mumbled and reached for an actual pillow, placing it in his lap. “At least lay down so you won’t strain your neck.” 

The smile that broke out over your face; it needed to be Feyre’s new painting. Perhaps he would have to let her into his head, let his High Lady see your joyful eyes and glowing face, to make sure your smile could be captured forever for everyone to see. 

As you settled down, your head now resting in his lap, Azriel could not help himself. He let his hand fall to your head, threading his fingers through your soft hair. His shadows settled on his shoulders, peering down at you as well, and he could not focus on anything else. The world could be on fire and he would not have been able to tear his eyes away from you. 

“Azzie, stop looking like that.” 

You glanced up at him again, brows knitted together in a small frown, and Azriel couldn’t stop himself from laughing, “Stop looking like what?” 

There was a moment of silence, the hollering of his family a distant background noise, as your eyes met his. The sparkle in his chest became more intense, impossible to control, and even as you tried to look annoyed with him, the smile twitching at the corner of your mouth gave you away. 

Eventually you huffed and curled into him a little more, “... you’re lucky you're so beautiful.” 

And as you pulled his hand away from your hair and laced your smaller fingers through his, Azriel knew there was no turning back -- knew that there was no one else. 

He raised your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before whispering, “You are beautiful.” 

Azriel thought he had learned how to master his cool mask, but when a golden thread weaved itself between his soul and yours, Azriel realized he was more than willing to let his mask slip for you.

ps, english is not my native language, so if there was any spelling or grammar issues; sorry! Thank you for reading <3

[rueclfer]

Touya x reader on a pumpkin picking date but Rei made them bring little Shoto along since he wanted to get a pumpkin too !!! Reader adores kids but Touya's just embarrassed and annoyed

🫐

so touya dressed as a scarecrow to a pumpkin patch (duh yn's idea) and all the moms whispering to each other abt how hot he looks mhm many many thoughts

be nice (or not) // touya todoroki

touya's burning glare was unavoidable no matter where you darted your eyes.

shouto had his arms lazily wrapped around your waist and head leaned against your chest in content as you three were being driven off to the pumpkin patch in the hayride along with several other families and couples chattering among themselves.

"the hay is poking my ass." touya dryly states, releasing a heavy sigh as he squirms to fix his position.

"that's a bad word, nii-san." shouto shushes him, lightly kicking his feet towards touya, but not quite being able to reach.

"you're right, shou, that IS a bad word. nii-san needs to watch his language, right?" you look down at the young child residing in your lap.

"mhm." shouto voices in agreement, sticking his tongue out at touya.

touya presses his lips together, and leans forward. he slowly inches towards shouto's face, causing the boy to push further back into you with fear.

"cover your ears." he whispers, laying his palms flat on his knees.

shouto tightens his grip around your waist and looks up at you, in which you nod your head in assurance.

he slaps his hands over his ears, and keeps his gaze on the passing scenery to avoid reading touya's lips- expecting profanities to escape his mouth the moment he wouldn't be able to hear anymore.

oh how you wished you could do the same.

"why the fuck would you agree on bringing the brat with us?" touya scolds.

"because your mom asked? and i love your mom? and i love shouto?" you furrow your eyebrows in annoyance. "you got a problem with that?"

"i do. you're annoying." he huffs. "unbelievably annoying."

"be nice to him, or else i'll shove a pumpkin up your fucking ass."

"wow and i was the one that needed to watch my language?" he peers around the cart. "be nice to me and maybe i'll return the favor." he smirks.

you silently flip touya off behind shouto's head as he leans back onto the hay-bale, crossing a leg over his knee with a taunting grin still plastered to his face.

shouto sees touya relax and releases his hands from his ears.

"what did you guys talk about?" he looks up at you with his teddy bear eyes and signature toothy grin.

"just about how nii-san is going to make today so much fun for you!" you smile, pressing your cheek against the top of his head. "isn't that right, touy?"

"yup." he gritted his teeth. "so much fun."

-

"are you sure you want this one?" touya asks for the third time, motioning towards the large disfigured pumpkin which could have been triple the size of shouto's head. "super sure?"

"yes!" shouto exclaims, bouncing on the hay-bale in joy, crunching the needles beneath his feet. "i want that one!"

you and touya send each other weary glances. along with your own pumpkins, you wondered how you would be able to get this behemoth back home.

"aww, is this your kid's first time picking out a pumpkin?" a passing by worker asked.

"he's not-" touya starts.

"-yes it is!" you beam, "he's been waiting for this all month, right hun?"

"right." touya deadpans, a light blush dusting over his cheeks. "he's ambitious. 'course he picks the biggest and ugliest one."

"he's just like his mom! loves the ugly rotten ones." you huff out a chuckle, ruffling shouto's hair and shooting a brief glare towards touya.

"well!" the worker darts their eyes between you three, unaffected by the thick line of tension between you and touya. "we have wheelbarrows available at the front! in the meantime, you can pay at the stand and we'll keep these here for you until you're ready to leave and take these to your cars."

once the worker leaves you three, touya sends you one last death stricken glare before heading towards the stand to pay out.

the last time someone had mistaken you and touya as shouto's parents was when you two picked him up from school. the parents cooed to you about how polite "your boy" was from what the other kids had told them and praised you on your parenting.

of course you leaned into it, taking in all of the compliments with a bright smile and cheerful thanks.

touya on the other hand hated the attention, but wouldn't dare cross you. he'd idly nod and agree while you conversed with the other parents, letting you enjoy your 5 minutes of parenthood.

"can i go in the bouncy castle?" shouto tugs on your sleeve, pointing towards the crowd of kids rushing in and out of the inflatable structure. "nii-san, can i?"

"yeah, go." he huffs, shoving his hands in his pockets, following shouto's direction as he runs towards the other kids.

"what are you so pouty about?" you tease, hooking an arm around touya's elbow. "you don't wanna play house with me?"

"you're coddling the wrong todoroki today." he mumbles, leaning away from your puckering lips.

"you jealous of your baby brother?"

"as if." he rolls his eyes. "i could not give less of a fuck if you love my kid brother more than your own boyfriend. not a single fuck. why would i?"

"okay. good." you playfully shrug. "because i think your kid brother loves me more than you too."

touya quickly tosses a glance over his shoulder towards the bouncy castle, keeping tabs on shouto as he runs around with the others.

this could've been it. with the shortness, dry responses, and glares he had been sending your way since the morning, you were sure he was thinking of all the ways he could shut you up for the rest of the day.

you loved toying with his short fuse- it was pure entertainment for you. how can you bother touya today? how many inside jokes can you make with his siblings before he starts throwing a fit? how long can he go on with this "nonchalant" facade of his?

"if you want me to fucking die on the spot right now, then just say so." he wraps an arm around behind your neck and pulls you into him, hanging his head into the crook of your neck. "otherwise, stop being an asshole." he mumbles.

this was new- defeat.

"i know, i'm so mean to hurt my poor baby's feelings." you choke back a laugh.

you run your hand up and down touya's back, occasionally landing a comforting pat in between his shoulder blades.

he groans into your neck and pulls away, hands firmly gripping both of your shoulders.

"enough of that baby bullshit unless you really want me to put a baby in you." he lowly says.

and there it was- the attitude, and the venom that you had been looking for all day.

"don't threaten me with a good time, babe." you look up at him through your lashes. "not like i've been waiting or anything."

you leaned into the teasing. if there was one thing you had touya beat at, it was the push and pull of trying to get the other to break under the relentless flirting, and shameless vulgarities.

he returned your sultry eyes with a smirk. a hand on your shoulder made its way up to the side of your neck, thumb caressing the tender flesh beneath your jaw. he pulls you into him. his lips inching closer and closer to your own.

you felt your stomach twisting and your breathing stop. you silently pray that this feeling never goes away- this effect touya had on you.

he stops.

"you're sick and twisted," the hot breath of his words brushing against your parted lips. "and will be dealt with when we get home."

his hand continues upwards. he endearingly pinch the soft flesh of your cheeks between his index finger and thumb before walking off- the soft crunches of the browned leaves under his foot marking every step as he leaves you in the midst of the crowd of parents by yourself.

"shouto!" touya calls out, waving his arm to catch the boy's attention. "let's go. gotta grab the pumpkins, mom and dad got things to do later."

he peers over his shoulder at you with a lopsided smile, clearly amused by your giddy response. both you and shouto run up to touya and latching onto an arm.

"so, going back to that baby-making thing?" you lean up and whisper against the shell of his ear.

"later. and i won't be nice about it."

-

touya tag: @moonchild701 @kaldurahms-lover @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 (hi touya tags idk if u just wanted to be tagged in the smaus or touya-everything so lmk if its just smaus!! <3 ily)

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you, of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love what I do, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie II

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~8k words

From me: sloooooowwwwww burrrrrrrnnnnnnnn

Warnings: angsty, fluffy, douchey ex-boyfriend, a little violent

Summary: Harry is one of the most annoying people she's ever met. It's unfair he's talented, hot, and way nicer than her ex.

“So getting to the side of the ice before the puck is there is offsides?” Marc asked.

She nodded watching the Warriors center faceoff against the Bears on her TV screen. They were in the third period with only five minutes to go and the defenseman from the Bears was in the penalty box for a foul against the center. She thought it was a death sentence. “Correct.”

“They have that in other sports,” he sounded like a child remembering a fact from preschool. She smirked.

“Yes,” she laughed. “Are you sure you want to date this guy?”

“I want to date his dick,” Marc shrugged. She snorted and shook her head.

“Fair enough.”

Her phone lit with a message from Kael. He wanted to see her when she was in town with The Chargers. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but it would have been nice to get some of her stuff back. If he kept it.

“Are you speaking to Harry again?” Marc asked.

It was impossible to keep the smile from growing on her face. She rubbed a hand over her mouth to hide it. “Yeah...” she nodded. “It’s kind of hard not to talk to anyone on the team.”

“The fact you went a whole week without talking to that hot as hell man is beyond me. You’re a better woman than me.”

She snorted. They were coming down to the final two minutes and the goalie skated to the bench and another player glided across the ice. “So, when the team is down by a goal or two, they send the goalie off the ice so they can get another scorer in position. But it leaves the goal open. It’s risky.”

“You are seriously doing that team a disservice by not dating them,” he murmured. “If I was into women I wouldn’t let you out in public. You’re so perfect.”

She laughed. “I am not perfect.”

“Babe, you are stunning, you know hockey, and you make the best cookies I’ve ever tasted.”

“It’s not enough,” she told him sipping her water and standing up. But sure enough, The Warriors scored without their goalie in the next. She had to get to the rink for the night game. She smirked, wiggled eyebrows at Marc, and turned off her TV.

“You should bet money on these things.”

She put on her regular outfit for a night of taking pictures at the rink. Her hands had to be free (and yes, they would freeze) but she wore a thick sweatshirt below the jersey. It had Niall’s name on the back. She figured he was the least likely to make a big deal of wearing someone’s name on her back. She honestly hoped no one noticed that she picked it. She didn’t want to make it seem like she had a favorite on the team. Because she didn’t. And it definitely wasn’t Harry Styles.  

Truthfully, she stole Niall’s old jersey out of the bin in the locker room. It got ripped in a game where someone got a little too irritated with Niall’s good goal tending. There was a significant tear along the seam because Harry was the first one to get to Niall when the incident occurred. Harry accidentally tore at it while trying to get his hands on the opponent and wound up in the penalty box for two minutes because of it.

She spent part of the following evening sewing it carefully back together while watching a movie on Netflix.

Once her winter boots were on, she slipped her camera bag and press pass over her shoulder and neck respectively. She was ready for the evening. Marc walked her down to her car. They both waved at Michael who was pacing outside while smoking a cigarette. “Hey Sweetheart,” he called. Michael was about five years younger than her and way too grumpy for his own good. But he often perked up on her behalf. “Good luck to the team.”

“Thanks!” She smiled as if she had any responsibility for how well they did.

Marc made sure she got in the car safely and winced when her car took two turns to start because of the cold. Once assured her car would remain running, Marc went to Michael’s side and bummed a cigarette from him as she pulled out of the lot in front of the building. What a weird little family she was creating in a weird part of town.

Her car seemed angry that it was being asked to do its job, and she worried that one day it was going to die on her way there. If it did, she was nervous it would be a thing and Uncle Charlie would be pissed. She could see it now. But instead, she listened to her music, stopped to splurge for a coffee made by someone else, and headed to the rink.

At the very least, she was happier than she had been in a very long time. There was no weight around her worrying she wasn’t the perfect girlfriend, the perfect arm candy for her hockey boyfriend. She didn’t worry about looking weird or awkward. She felt more like herself behind the lens, at the rink, and at The Locker Room, and at her apartment with her new friends than she had in years.

Maybe she didn’t need any of her stuff back from Kael. If she never spoke to him again, then she would be okay.

*

“Niall you lucky motherfucker!” Asher yelled.

She wasn’t paying much attention as the boys finally arrived for their game. She was in the middle of a conversation with Uncle Charlie as she went over the pictures she was planning to submit to the news outlets, looking over the tiny screen in her hands. She showed off her non-athletic photography skills. This included the senior pictures she took of her cousin (Charlie’s daughter), and she told him which ones she thought were best. This naturally led to discussing the holidays. Her hope was he was willing to carpool to her parents’ house. It was selfish, mainly because she didn’t think her car would make it the three-hour drive out of the city. Not that she was going to tell him that.

But the boys interrupted before she could get that far. She turned, smiled brightly at her team of restless twenty-something-year-old puppies. She set her coffee on the ledge of the window of an office for one of the team assistants and gave the boys a proper wave. “Are you all ready for gameday?” She asked.

But no one was paying any attention to her greeting. Instead, their gazes were focused on the number on her body. The black-and-silver-lettering and logo was riveting it seemed even though it was on all their own jerseys as well.

So much for it not being a thing. “Sweetheart, I’m honored,” Niall chuckled. Were his cheeks pink in embarrassment? That was cute—he looked so nervous. Niall was adorable. She could see why Harry was so protective of him. In the time she had gotten to know him, she seriously didn’t know how someone so sweet and nice could be roped into a rough and tumble sport like hockey.

“What?” She asked curiously, hoping that if she acted confused, they wouldn’t make it a bigger deal than it needed to be.

It seemed there was little chance of such a thing. “You’re wearing my jersey,” his grin remained shy and so, so adorable.

Well, maybe she could use it to her advantage. “Well, don’t tell the others but you’re my favorite,” she winked.

But it wasn’t quiet and everyone heard it. The gasps and scoffs of disbelief echoed loudly as they entered the locker room to drop some of their stuff. First there would be game day entrance photos, the boys looking dressed in not quite formal but not so casual attire. The stuff that made hearts throb to look at them (and other organs throb if she was honest). They would pose as if they hadn’t already walked in, and no one would know except for them.

Niall turned a shade redder and headed in. “Don’t break my goalie,” Charlie warned.

“I would never break Niall!” She pouted petulantly at her uncle. “Why are they all up and arms about the jersey? It was free and I fixed it. Is it not allowed?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart,” he chuckled. “It’s just a dumb hockey-guy thing,” he patted her on the back and headed into the locker room.

“Harry’s running late,” Lang said as he returned with just a duffle bag and an overpriced water bottle that was part of his sponsorship deal. “Hit some traffic or something. So, you might not get his game day entrance,” he told her with a shrug.

She nodded. “That’s fine,” she shrugged and snapped a picture of him while he wasn’t really focused, testing the lighting and frame once more now that she had a subject. “There’s enough of you guys to suffice as eye candy for the day we probably won’t need everyone’s picture.”

Lang laughed, covering his mouth. “Sweetheart, please say that in front of Harry while I’m around and you’re wearing that jersey,” he begged. She frowned unsure what he meant by that specifically. Instead, she shook her head and began ordering the captain and his teammates around to get the first part of her evening’s tasks done.

*

Harry showed up just as she took the last shot of the team walking into the locker room. He was pouring the last bit of his protein shake into his mouth while she examined her camera once more and sipped her coffee that she left on the ledge of the window. There was so much more activity back by the locker room as game time approached. There were team doctors, athletic trainers, assistants, and more milling around.

Harry hated being late. It messed with his pre-game rituals. But there wasn’t anything he could do about traffic. Plus, Hayden lived on the exact opposite side of the city. He really shouldn’t have bothered with trying to sneak a quick hook-up in before the game. But he needed something to take the edge off and nothing was working.

Granted the hook-up left him feeling unsatisfied as well. Although it wasn’t Hayden’s fault. She was lovely, truly. It was all Harry’s brain. Something was off and he couldn’t quite place it.

But one look at the pretty photographer wearing the number thirty-one on her body reminded him that he was much more aware of the issue than he was willing to admit. He blinked hoping his eyes were mistaken. But no, the name Horan was on her back.

“Rookie!” He called.

What the fuck was he going to say? It didn’t even make sense for him to be mad. She didn’t do anything wrong. God, Harry was an idiot. She was off limits. For all he knew she had one of everyone’s jersey and was going to rotate through.

It was probably not a good sign that she looked up when she heard that nickname, right? It wasn’t good to get used to knowing it was Harry calling her the moment she heard his teasing. But right then, Harry didn’t look teasing. His gaze was laser-focused on her torso (and not the way she would expect him to be focused on her chest). “Hi Harry,” she smiled, sweetly; hoping vehemently that this wasn’t about the jersey. “Do you want a game day photo?” She asked gently holding her camera up.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” He snapped.

This hoping thing ain’t shit. She thought. Glancing down at her outfit once more, she frowned. “I thought I looked cute,” she pouted.

Harry was all but half a foot in front of her. “You’re wearing Niall’s jersey.”

“It’s from the locker room, it was going to get thrown out, so I just sewed it,” she shrugged. “Is that not allowed? No one said anything.”

He seemed to bristle but settled at the same time. She really didn’t get what the big deal was. “S’fine,” he grumbled. “Y’do look cute. You always look cute,” he rolled his eyes and pushed the locker room door open with a little too much power. She shook her head and heard laughter from behind the door.

“Boys are weird,” she sighed and headed for the tunnel to get to the ice.

*

She texted Michael from her car when she got back to the apartment at one in the morning. It was dark, cold, and she had a weird feeling as she pulled into the small lot. He hurried out yawning as he did. He was wearing only shorts, a t-shirt, and slippers. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she frowned and hurried to the front of the building. He waited patiently for her to lock her car.

“S’fine, Sweetheart,” he shrugged and yawned.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. She really needed to find a new place, so she didn’t have to bother them. But she swore she could feel someone’s eyes following her as she closed the entry door to her building. Michael headed down the first-floor hall to his place without another word. She stopped at her small little mailbox, locked on the inside. Only a slit in the wall from the outside to get in. It was all junk and bills. She didn’t give her address to anyone. Not even Uncle Charlie had her real address. She mentioned some apartment complex on the good side of town. But when pressed, she immediately diverted and asked if he would be okay with shipping her Amazon packages to his house. It did the trick, fortunately. Her parents didn’t think much of it either because they knew Charlie was keeping an eye on her.

It was all she could afford after not working much because of Kael and his weird obsession with making sure she played the proper part of picture-perfect hockey girlfriend. This was a sketchy part of town, and she knew it and didn’t like living here either. But what could she really do? Making friends with Michael and Marc was easy and she was lucky. So very lucky to have people keep an eye out for her when she got home late and felt like she was being followed.

So, when she turned to the stairwell behind the little mail room and saw the very angry hockey player outside the door of her building peering through the glass, she practically jumped back a foot and immediately and nearly screamed.

She clamped a hand over her mouth and pressed the other one to her heart, dropping her mail in the process. “What the fuck are you doing?!” She whisper-screamed opening the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry hissed stepping inside. He gathered up her mail handing it to her. He continued glaring as he took in the run-down place. “Do you live here?”

“Yes!”

“Rookie, this is not a safe area. Why are y’living here?”

“Because I can afford it? What kind of fucking question is that?”

Harry looked so good having just played a grueling game that included overtime and a shootout. His hair was still damp from his shower. His face glowing that way he managed to do in the dead of winter that was so unfair to her. He smelled good—too good. He wore a black hoodie, black pants, and black sneakers. Like he was trying to blend in with the night. The only not good-looking thing about him at the moment was the sour expression on his otherwise extremely pretty features. The furrow between his eyebrows looked angry. The green of his eyes appeared darker, almost black to match his clothes. His mouth was pressed in a flat line.

But even angry, Harry looked hot. He had been angry all evening. Since he set foot in the arena. He didn’t relax when they all went to The Locker Room either. He hardly spoke to Niall and barely acknowledged his good goal tending. “Does coach know you live here?”

She shook her head. “Harry, shut the fuck up. Why did you follow me home like a creep!?”

“Because s’one in the morning and y’said y’were exhausted and that your car was a piece of shit! I was making sure y’made it home. I didn’t know home was even scarier!”

“Hey babe, everything alright? Michael texted you would be on your way up and to keep an ear out.” Marc called as he approached them descending the stairs.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she whispered and rubbed her temples.

“Holy shit,” Marc gaped.

“Harry, this is Marc,” she introduced the pair, but lacked any enthusiasm. “He’s my neighbor.”

Harry glared at him—even though he didn’t deserve it. “Hi,” he said curtly.

“I’m fine,” she told Marc. “Harry followed me home.”

“Great game today, man,” he looked awestruck; no longer concerned about her well-being at all and entirely concerned about the beautiful man in front of him. “That was a bogus penalty in the second period.”

“I said the same thing,” she nodded in agreement hoping it would remind Harry that she made her own little place here and he didn’t need to worry. That he was her friend.

Harry softened just a little. His shoulders untensed ever so slightly. “Thanks,” he nodded curtly, trying to remain polite to a fan when he wanted to shake the sweet photographer. “Rookie, show me your place,” he ordered.

“Michael and I keep an eye on her,” Marc offered sensing there was a deeper issue.

Harry eyed him up and down and then turned back to her. “Show me your place,” he repeated.

“No!”

“Jesus, babe, show the hot man your apartment!”

She pressed her fingers to her forehead and slid them down her nose and over her lips as she spoke. “Marc,” she sighed. “Go away.”

“Huge fan,” he held his hands up in surrender and made his way upstairs.

Harry was staring at her in disbelief. “You’re not living here.”

“Harry,” she sighed.

“I’ve had a shit day, Rookie. Don’t fucking test it,” he snapped and headed up the stairs figuring he would find it on his own because he would just know? She shook her head.

“Third floor,” she mumbled following behind him. He sighed with relief from ahead of her.

“Take that stupid fucking shirt off,” he said once the door was shut.

“Why are you so angry today?” She shed her camera carefully setting it on the small table. Then her badge. She dropped her keys on the table too. Quickly, before he could get angrier, she rid herself of the jersey and her hoodie.

Harry sighed again, relieved it seemed of what she didn’t know. Without broiling in irritation over his friend’s name all over the girl he had a massive crush on, he was able to focus a little more. Glancing around he inspected the small place. It was cute, adorable even. Just like her.

She bent to take her shoes off. “Do you want water or something? You’re so keyed up... Maybe you want a sedative?” She rolled her eyes at him.

He snorted. “Pass,” he continued looking around. “S’nice, really,” he murmured

“It is,” she agreed. “I don’t plan on staying here forever, but it’s what’s affordable right now. Not all of us make seven figures a year for their talent.”

He ignored her and wandered around the little rooms she had. On all of her walls were more photos she had clearly taken. It didn’t take much for him to figure out her style. It was natural and lovely. “S’cold in here.”

“Heat’s expensive,” she remarked. “Do you want some tea?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, thank you, Rookie,” he mumbled relaxing more as he inhaled deeply. Everything was so intoxicatingly her in this room. It smelled so good. She smelled so good. “Is Marc in love with you?” He asked offhandedly.

“Not unless I identify as a man, which I don’t.”

He smirked, unable to hide the amusement. She was so funny, it was unfair. Beautiful, talented, kind, and funny. She was made in a lab and meant to tempt every one of Harry’s desires. “What ‘bout the guy that walked y’in?” He picked up the book that was on her coffee table and read the back of it, wondering what kind of books she was into and if she liked the same things as him. He set the book down carefully.

“Michael? No. He’s a baby.”

“He’s taller than you,” he murmured.

“He’s not in love with me. Well, actually, I do make him cookies. So maybe,” she shrugged.

He shook his head wishing he could focus on his own questions. But she was too quick and Harry was too tired.

On the wall of her living room was an array of small frames. Probably fifteen or so four by six photos that his mom would have put in a photo album. He recognized Charlie and Ray. A man he could only assume was Charlie’s brother and her dad as they looked like twins with different hair and eye coloring. Girls in their teens, a dog that never seemed to age even though the family around it did, and her gorgeous smile.

There was also a stupid fucking picture of Niall on her wall beside a team photo which made him want to yank it down and stomp on it like a psychopath.

Poor Niall did nothing to deserve Harry’s wrath. The team teased him the moment he went into the locker room telling him all about how she said Niall was his favorite. It wasn’t surprising. Niall was nice and sweet. He didn’t hook up with a bunch of girls nor did he go from city to city hoping to be entertained by a different girl. He was a nice guy. Probably the kind of guy she did deserve. Especially after whatever it was that Kael did to arguably ruin his life by losing her. He barely congratulated him on his saves in the game. Didn’t even buy him a drink at the bar either. To Niall’s credit, he didn’t take it too harshly. Merely smirked at him as he glared. Knowing it really had nothing to do with him at the heart of it.

But the picture of his best friend on her wall just made him grumpier all over again. It didn’t help that Harry was exhausted. He dreaded having to drive home this late. Especially when he was mad on top of everything else. But having seen where she lived, he was glad he followed her home. Didn’t care that it was creepy. It would have made him insane to know she wasn’t safe.

There wasn’t much he could do but turn his attention to her kitchen so he could avoid the stupid picture of his stupid friend who he didn’t like very much at present.

Right there on the fridge door was one of her family photos—clearly taken at a wedding or something. A quick glance showed she wasn’t in it which made him sad. How often was she left out of pictures because she was always the one taking them? Beside her family was the side-by-side duo picture of herself that he saw on her website. A photo of her parents’ dog next to that. A couple landscapes of the ocean and sun.

Right in the middle of all her photos was a picture of Harry.

He swore time stopped. All his anger towards Niall disappeared. Why was he on her fridge? It was the picture of when he scored a goal, from one of the first games she photographed this year. The one she sent him the first time she texted him. “Why’s this on the fridge?” He asked, straightening it alongside the others it. There was a magnet on the back and Harry felt his chest constrict a bit knowing he wasn’t on the wall, but he was in her house. She cared in some way enough to put him among her pictures of family and friends.

She shrugged. “I put all of my favorite pictures on the fridge,” she said it so simply. It wasn’t a big deal to her. The pictures belonged there and that was it. It just was.

His heart sincerely skipped a beat. Like if he were a cartoon, a graphic of a little heart monitor would appear in a cloud bubble, and it would show an irregular rhythm representing the way she made him feel. His gaze flickered to her briefly, but he was worried he would stare and never look away. He cleared his throat and looked toward her wall of photos. “What ‘bout the wall over there?”

“Those are nice pictures too, but I don’t really look at the wall much. It’s behind me when I sit on the couch, you know...? The fridge however,” she had a smile in her voice. “I love snacks and cooking and baking. So, I’m in the kitchen a lot. So, I like to look at my favorites.”

Harry felt softer. Relieved. Less mad and annoyed than he’d been in hours. Maybe even days if he was honest. Harry was one of her favorites. Even if she didn’t mean he was her favorite and merely the photo.

“Bunny?” He asked softly staring at the other half dozen or so of her favorites.

She didn’t miss a beat answering to the nickname that she didn’t really like. But she did really like the way it sounded when Harry said it. “Yeah?”

“Would y’ever wear my jersey?” His voice was quiet, he felt stupid for asking. The question wouldn’t leave his brain until he said it. Whatever the answer was, he had to ask it.

She frowned and sighed. Harry hated that. It seemed like a terrible question, and he was dreading her answer immediately. “I hate to say it, Harry, but I can’t afford a Styles jersey.”

He rolled his eyes. “Would y’wear it?”

“Of course I would, Harry. You’re my friend just like Niall is. And Asher, Callie, and Lang. I really only wore it because you guys were throwing it out.”

Harry rubbed a hand on the side of his face. He could live with that. “Alright.”

“Did I miss something?” She asked. But he knew how perceptive she was. She had to know how much it bothered him that she wore his friend’s name and number on her body today and not his. She had to know he had a crush on her. Even if he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Nope,” he shook his head not wanting to get into it further.

“Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” She asked again. “You seem really out of sorts...maybe you need something without alcohol?”

“Sure,” he sighed. She could give him whatever she wanted. She wouldn’t be able to tell, but he was relieved now. He didn’t need anything else. “Tea would be nice...” She nodded, gently nudging him out of the way to get a pitcher of water from her fridge. “Can I stay here?”

“You want to stay in my crappy little apartment? After you went on and on about how unsafe it is?” She questioned filling the kettle on her stove.

Fair point, Bunny. “M’exhausted, Rookie. I told you I had a bad day.”

“I see that,” she pouted and scanned him up and down. “Of course you can. You have to take my bed though; the couch is too small for you.”

He shook his head. “M’not kicking y’out of your bed when I barged in.”

“Well... it was... kind of nice that you made sure I got home safely. I’m glad it was you, but I was pretty nervous... so if it wasn’t you...” she shook her head and looked at her hands wringing them awkwardly. “I’m sorry you got stuck here,” she pouted.

More of him softened somehow. It seemed impossible that she could make him feel any softer. He was certain he never felt softer than when she said that his picture was one of her favorites. The way she spoke was so gentle.

“I fall asleep most nights on the sofa anyway,” she shrugged, unaware of the thoughts rolling through Harry’s head. She probably hadn’t a clue how she made him imagine her adorable body curled into the small sofa with a blanket around her. What it would be like for him to come home from a game and find her snuggled into a sweatshirt with his cologne on it, the TV playing the post-game highlights, and her hands tucked under her cheek. Did she snore? Harry ached to know.

God he was fucked. How did she walk into the arena and do that? Harry thought of nothing but hockey and hookups. Now he wondered if she snored at night.

She carefully poured the hot water into a mug with The Charger’s logo on the outside and dipped the tea bag in and out a few times letting the water do its thing. She slid it across the small counter before she poured her own mug. They stood silently for a moment, sipping tea.

“I might have something of Kael’s for you to sleep in.”

“I’d rather die than sleep in that piece of shit’s clothes.”

She smirked around the edge of her mug and shook her head. “Are you cold?” She asked.

He shook his head. It was cold but he wasn’t cold. He would be fine with a few blankets. A warm body beside him would be good too, but he wasn’t sure he could convince her.

She put her mug in the sink and went to the bathroom without warning. After a few minutes, she returned. Her face was washed of makeup, her hair pulled back, and she wore a pair of sweatpants instead. She grabbed a pillow off her bed. “Normally I’d change your sheets, but... It’s too late. I hope you don’t mind.”

Wrapped up in sheets, blankets, and pillows that smelled like her? Fine by him. “S’fine, Rookie. Thank you.”

She grabbed more blankets from under her sofa cushion; a space for storage hiding in plain sight. She placed them at the end of her bed and then went to the sofa. “Make yourself at home,” she offered. “Night, Harry,” she yawned and settled into her pillow and blanket, nuzzling into the warmth just as he imagined, her hands tucked under her cheek.

“Night, Rookie,” he mumbled and climbed into her bed. He was practically asleep before he was fully settled.

*

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours later—it was still very dark out. Her bed was warm, soft, and smelled so fucking good he thought he might sew himself into the sheets just so he never had to leave. But it was undeniably cold. Even in his hoodie and sweats.

He glanced across the room and could barely make out the shadow of his pretty crush curled into the sofa. She looked chilled and Harry felt so immensely guilty. He got out of bed, his feet nearly stinging on the cold floor. Without more thought he scooped her up. His arms looping around the back of her knees and the other around her waist. He tried to move her without jostling her too much. Her head fell toward him, pressing into his chest as he carried her back to the bed. He settled her under her sheets and blankets. He wanted nothing more than to cozy up to her, but he wasn’t going to ruin the progress he made that night. Instead, he slipped between the sheet and blanket, draped the pair of them in the other blankets.

She sighed loudly in her sleep. Like she was comfortable.

Harry didn’t think there was anyone cuter than her.

*

Harry woke up to her burrowed into his side. He didn’t dare move. If she wanted out, she would have to make the move. There wasn’t anything that would get Harry to remove himself from her warm body in the same bed as him. It was almost too warm, but well worth it.

“Jesus,” she whispered suddenly and scooched back in the bed. “Harry!” She hissed.

He smirked. “Good morning, Rookie,” he yawned. “Sleep well?”

“How did I get here?”

“Y’must have tucked yourself in with me,” he smiled.

She rolled her eyes, shook her head. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

“Y’jus’ looked cold,” he shrugged. “S’plenty of room.”

She sighed. “Well thanks, it was cozy,” her cheeks turned red. “Do you want something to eat?” She asked, immediately pivoting from their little late-night cuddle.

“Y’make breakfast too?”

“It’s actually my favorite meal...” she trailed off pushing the covers off. “I love going out to breakfast,” she got out of bed and grabbed a sweatshirt from her dresser. Harry sensed there was more to that, but as soon as he saw her sweatshirt, all previous thoughts left his mind.

Niall’s number and name on her body made him mad.

The words Glacier Wolves across the front in it’s hideous font was going to send him to an early grave.

“No,” he shook his head immediately. “Take it off.”

“You’re awfully bossy about my outfits, Harry,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s cold. I need a sweatshirt.”

Harry pulled the one he was wearing off. “Here.”

For a moment she eyed it. Harry couldn’t figure out her expression or the pause that lasted as she examined it. “Harry it’s like ten degrees out,” she pulled the hem down and walked toward her bathroom again.

He pouted, grumbling to himself as he put his clothing back on. “M’burning that,” he mumbled.

“I heard that!”

*

Harry left after breakfast. He didn’t bug her about her sweatshirt. But he did beg her to turn the heat on for a little bit. He helped her with dishes and not once did the conversation feel forced, awkward, or like there was a lull that lasted too long. He watched her take pictures of her food, then the way the light streamed in through the window, so it hit her coffee table just so. She adjusted her book to an open page and set a hot cup of tea beside it.

With a couple of snaps, Harry watched her while biting into his toast. “Can I see?” He asked.

“It’s nothing special. I just take random pictures sometimes for practice,” she explained.

He wiped his hand on his leg and held it out expectantly for the priceless equipment. It felt weird, awkward. Tentatively, she handed it to him. Not only had she captured the beauty of the early morning in her little place, she took another picture of Harry drinking tea in between bites.

He smiled. “Aw, Rookie, me?” He teased. She didn’t say anything, looked anywhere but him while her pink cheeks spoke for the emotions she was feeling. “M’not sure why but m’still really impressed,” he tabbed through the pictures she took on the little screen.

She must have faced the camera backwards because her pretty smiling face with the ice rink as back drop behind her illuminated the screen. Harry loved everything about the photo. It had her and his beloved hockey rink. “Can I have this one?” He asked.

“I was going to delete that,” she blushed. Harry frowned.

“No way, Rookie, y’look adorable. Let me have it, y’got me on your fridge.”

She looked away shyly, nodded silently. “I’ll text it to you.”

Harry was unbelievably talented and attractive. He could outthink his opponents on the ice and he was sweet enough to make sure she got home safe. Carried her to bed in the middle of the night to keep her warm.

It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have him. Even if it was her own doing.

Around ten or so, Harry had to head out and she hated to admit it, but she really missed him almost the moment he left.

*

The following day she headed to practice taking pictures for the team’s social media posts. Ray and Charlie were at the center of the ice waiting for the team to file out of the locker room. She took a picture of her uncle and surrogate uncle. Then she setup for some detail shots while waiting. The score book and pen on the bench. A stick propped up behind the bench. She laid flat on the ice and got a shot of the coach’s shoes on the center of the ice.

“Hey Sweetheart!” Callie called from across the rink—first one on the ice. Ray threw a puck at him, and he shot it into the net. Charlie threw another and he pushed the puck back and forth near him. “Laying down on the job?”

She snorted, shook her head with a smile. “Come here!” He glided over and stopped in front of her without getting ice all over her and her equipment. “Put your stick flat on the ground,” she ordered. She reached out and touched the puck and pushed it in front of the slight bend at the end of his stick. “Take your helmet off, and your gloves.”

“You gonna tell me to take more of my uniform off, Sweetheart?” He teased but followed her directions.

“You wish.”

“I do wish, Sweetheart, I do.”

She shook her head while centering her view on the shot she wanted. “Don’t move.”

“Yes ma’am,” he sighed dreamily. He was enjoying her bossing him around too much and she couldn’t help but smile while she clicked the shutter taking several of the same photo.

“Okay, thank you,” she carefully maneuvered so she would flop awkwardly back on the ice. Callie immediately grabbed her camera and then took hold of her arm to help her up. Once righted, she brushed the ice off the front of her body. She was quite chilled from lying on the ground for so long. Plus her apartment was cold, naturally her car’s heater was chilly, and it felt like she never quite got out of the cold ever because of it.

“Can I see?” He said excitedly.

She turned the camera to show him. Her teeth chattered a little more than usual. Callie put an arm around her shoulders to add some warmth. He was tall and lean like most other hockey players. And undoubtedly attractive too. “You’re pushing it, Kian,” she shook her head but didn’t mind how warm he felt.

“No one calls me Kian except my mother, Sweetheart,” he reminded her. “You’re cold. Don’t read into it,” he took the camera from her and thumbed through the photos pressing the buttons beside the screen to view them. “Wow,” he murmured. “That’s so cool, Sweetheart. It looks really beautiful.”

She blushed with pride and ducked her face. “Thank you.”

“You know... I’m not sure what he did, but Kael is an idiot to lose you,” he affirmed clicking through more of the photos. “Can we take one?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she turned the camera around and pointed where Callie needed to look. He squeezed around her a little tighter as she clicked the shutter. He immediately took the camera back and examined the photo. “Cute, Sweetheart,” he grinned and continued flipping through all her photos. Including the ones from her breakfast with Harry the day before. “Ooh... what’s this?” He cooed. “Did you and Styles have a sleepover?!” He gaped.

She took her camera back. “No,” she didn’t even blush. It wasn’t his business. She didn’t want Charlie to hear.

And she definitely didn’t want Harry to hear.

Harry slid onto the ice his eyes zeroing in on his teammate’s arm wrapped around her almost immediately. She felt a little awkward knowing that he seemed to be a bit territorial about her even though it wasn’t really within his right. He glowered at the puck that Charlie tossed to him, and it sailed almost immediately into the net from where he stood. “I can’t compete with him, Sweetheart,” Callie frowned. “Please tell me you don’t actually like Styles.”

“I like all of you, Kian,” she rolled her eyes, tearing her eyes away from his broody skating.

“But you like me most, right?” Asher appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“She likes you least,” Lang said assuredly skating by just as quick. She laughed and shook her head.

“I like you all equally,” she promised.

“Bull shit, you can’t sell a twenty-way-tie!” Asher frowned.

She loved her little family away from her real one. This team made her feel more loved and appreciated than Kael ever did. It was eye-opening in so many ways. Was it just because she took pictures on the team? Would they behave this way if she was just a girlfriend? Or the coach’s niece without special treatment? She got special treatment from the other girlfriends and wives of the Glacier Wolves simply because she was Kael’s girlfriend.

At about the same time she started to feel drained by her relationship (the last six months before it ended), she overheard two of the significant others talking about her in the bathroom. While she was using the bathroom... They said Kael was an idiot to stay with her. She was a leech and nothing more. For three years she had been nothing but a good girlfriend. She attended every game, catered to Kael’s workout schedules, practice schedules. She monitored his calendar and made sure his stunning, penthouse apartment was cleaned. She hosted parties for his teammates. For three years post-graduation she didn’t take photography gigs, skipped family parties, and let her degree sit on a shelf unused to it’s full potential.

Maybe The Chargers boys were just being kind because she was the coach’s niece. Maybe her skill really was subpar. Wasn’t she really just a leech in a new way now? Her uncle got her this job and they didn’t really need her.

Kael fucked her up good. Made her feel worthless. He didn’t value her skill and made her believe she wasn’t good enough in any part of her life. “Hey Sweetheart?” Callie asked, giving her a squeeze, bringing her mind back to the present. “You good?”

She nodded. “Sorry, just daydreaming.”

“About me?!” Asher grinned. She smiled. At least for now, this family she had was sweet. She wanted to believe they valued her for her and savor it for however long she could.

*

While the boys practiced, she went to the locker room and tidied up, brought the dirty uniform hamper to the laundry room, and brought the clean laundry back. She took more detail shots without the boys around. It was fun to get them in the shots, like the ones she took with Callie. But ever-like puppies, it was easier to get pictures without them milling around eagerly. She took some really nice shots of their locker space. With the right lighting, it would look like they were ready for battle—she could see it in her head, and she couldn’t wait to get the shots of their numbers alongside equipment on her computer to play with the settings.

But after about an hour of that, she ran out of things to do. She sauntered back to the rink and watched from the bench. Ray and Charlie stood at the center dictating where they should go and what to do next. It was mesmerizing. The beauty and graceful agility these tall, lean, padded men exuded was incredible.

“Take a picture it will last longer!”

The team burst into laughter as Callie called out to her. She shook her head but certainly did just that.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Niall grinned coming over during another break. “Heard you had Harry over. Hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

She smiled. “No, he was good,” she assured him. “It was nice he followed me home. To make sure I was safe.”

“Yeah, he’s decent like that. His sister Gemma made him a real gentleman,” he agreed. “He didn’t like you wearing my jersey,” he told her.

“I’m well aware.”

“I won’t say no if you wear it again.”

She laughed. “Will do.”

“Want to make him madder taking a picture?”

“Maybe tomorrow, Kian made him pretty mad today with that one already.”

“Who?” Niall furrowed his eyebrows. She shook her head and silently laughed. “Is that what the silent treatment was for?” Niall asked with a laugh and skated off to rejoin his team.

*

At the end of practice, she took shots of them leaving the ice, the empty net. In her head she had a series of photos. The sequence of a hockey game and maybe she would put it into motion one day. She sat on the bench looking at her camera screen and sifted through some of the multiples she didn’t need.

“Hey Rookie,” Harry said softly.

She looked up and smiled. “Hi, Harry.”

Dangling from his fingers were a pair of figure skates. All white, pink guards, pink anterior cushioning, and pink laces.

“I got you these.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“To practice.”

“Harry, I cannot accept that. I know how much ice skates cost. Those have to be close to 400 dollars.”

He shrugged. “That’s what a good pair cost.”

“Harry, I can’t even stand on the ice. Return them. I’m not taking a 400-dollar pair to ruin because I can’t even stand still while wearing them... And they’re practically giving me blisters from just looking at them. I don’t have the right socks..." Harry looked disappointed and he frowned. "But... that... that was very sweet of you,” she added. Because she hadn’t said thank you yet, and it was sweet. It was extremely thoughtful of him. “Thank you,” she added gratefully. “That was so nice of you.”

“Do you like Callie?” He blurted.

“Do you think I’m in love with every man I meet?” She countered.

“You two looked cozy,” he mumbled.

“I was cold,” she admitted. “He offered his jersey, but I didn’t want a repeat of the other night,” she quipped. Harry smirked and looked away from her. “I’m not dating hockey players, remember?” She grabbed her camera and bag ready to leave the rink.

“Yeah...” he sighed, rubbed the back of his head. “I know, Rookie.”

*

There was a knock on her door later that evening. She assumed it was Michael asking if she had baked anything after feeling a bit on the munchier side of life. It probably wasn’t Marc because he had a date with the hockey lover. But maybe it was an early night for them, so who knew.

Instead, Harry was there. A pair of skates dangling from his fingers once more. The guards were still pink, there were scuffs on the toes and heels. The interior was cushioning was a light brown. “They’re a good brand. Used, so they didn’t cost a lot. But full disclosure, they were the most expensive used pair I could find because m’not gonna let y’skirt on the quality because of the cost. They won’t hurt your feet with blisters being brand new.”

Harry, with used ice skates, was the last person she expected to see. There was a tug in her chest where her heart would have melted for Kael to do something as kind as that. But she couldn’t fall in love with Harry. It was just a bad idea. He was a celebrity. There were millions of women he could choose from.

“Have you had it with dragging me around the ice or something?” She asked.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, but... I want t’help you, Rookie. Y’should know how t’skate. Think of the pictures y’could take even if y’jus’ learn t’skate a little,” he shrugged.

That tug in her chest felt an awful lot like Harry worming his way into the center of her universe. But she didn’t want to do that again. Not really. She didn’t want to dote on Harry the way she did only for it to backfire on her. She still had a lot of time, but she felt behind. Kael made it so she didn’t have tons of money. She ‘didn’t have to worry about it’ because he made plenty. But it wasn’t about money. It was about her independence and now she felt like she literally paid the price. “I got y’some socks too,” Harry added.

Goddammit.

She was going to fall in love with him.

--

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[mssishipi]

taste of indulgence - sjy, pjs

CHAPTER 2 – OOPS, IT'S SOUR

The sex was good. So fucking good. But somehow, Jay is making things difficult afterward. His sharp comments, his rough attitude, the way he keeps looking at you like you’re something he regrets. Annoying. Irritating. You need to be careful with the way you talk 'cause— oops, it's sour.

content tags: again everyone is either gay or fruity, bi! jake, bi! jay, pansexual! reader, profanities, reader being horny, sexual mutual pining (?), lots of pov switch, jay has a high pride (bear with him), sunoo is just sunoo, poorly written smut (going to proofread when i have time)

explicit content (smut): masturbation, anal sex (mxm), threesome (switch jake, switch jay, sub reader), cunilingus, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (don't!), multiple sex position, overstimulation, cream pie, belly bulging, facial. dacryphilia. MDNI! WC: 17.9K

want a taste?

7:10 AM.

A text notification lit up your phone screen.

Jay: We had a 7:30 class. Jake didn't want to wake you.

You blink at the time. 10:12 AM.

"Oh, fuck." You bolt upright, instantly regretting it when a sharp ache shoots through your thighs and up your spine. Your entire body hurts. Your throat stings. Your legs feel like they barely belong to you. You can't even walk straight at all, and every moment is torture.

Ignoring every screaming muscle, throwing on your uniform in record time. You grab the oversized turtleneck jacket hanging in Jay's apartment—no doubt his—to cover the bruises blooming across your neck.

You don't even think about eating or taking a bath. No time. You shove your things into your bag, slip your shoes on painfully slow, and practically limp out the door. By the time you're speed-walking (more like hobbling) down the university halls, you're out of breath, late, and completely miserable.

You barge into the lecture hall, panting. People inside the hall turn around their head, looking at you, suddenly making you feel conscious. While your professor gives you a pointed look, gesturing vaguely toward the empty seats.

"Sorry," you mumble, bowing slightly before sinking into your chair next to Sunoo. You drop your bag with a thud, wincing as your shoulders protest because everything hurts.

Sunoo, bless his nosy soul, immediately narrows his eyes at you, looking you up and down. "The hell are you wearing?" His voice is dripping with disgust.

You blink, tugging at the oversized turtleneck swallowing your entire frame. "Clothes?"

Sunoo looks offended that you would even try that excuse. "First of all, why are you not entirely on your uniform? Second, what is that outfit? And third—" he pauses, squinting at you, "where the hell were you during Chemistry?!"

You sigh, pressing your fingers against your throbbing temples. "Can you not interrogate me at ten in the morning?" You slump onto the table, resting your forehead against your arms.

Sunoo does not back down. "You? Skipping a major class? That's a first."

"I overslept," you mutter, voice muffled against your sleeves.

Sunoo gasps dramatically. "Overslept?! Girl, our vacant period was six hours—how the fuck did you oversleep that much?!"

You squeeze your eyes shut. His voice is a hammer against your already pounding head. "I'm sick," you groan.

Sunoo snorts, utterly unimpressed. "Yeah, no shit. You look like you crawled out of a man's closet and died."

"Shut up and send me the lecture notes," you grumble.

Sunoo glares, but does as you ask, muttering, "You better not fail this subject because of whatever the fuck you've been up to."

You straighten your back, pulling out your iPad, clicking it on—7% battery left. You groan, rubbing your palms over your face. Of course you forgot to charge it.

"Do you have a power bank?" you ask, voice bordering on pleading.

Sunoo sighs, shaking his head as he rummages through his bag. "Seriously, what did you do last night?"

Yeah. No way in hell you're answering that.

Abnormal Psychology was awkward as hell. You shared this class with Jay and Jake, which was already bad enough—but what made it worse was that they sat right next to you.

Jake slid into the seat to your right, all easy smiles and warmth, while Jay, dropped into the chair on your left, arms crossed, jaw tight. You stiffened, hyper-aware of just how close they were.

Across the table, Sunoo let out an audible huff, rolling his eyes as he aggressively placed his notebook down. He didn't say anything, but the look he shot you was pure what the fuck is going on?

Your fingers clenched around your pen, your heartbeat thudding in your ears. Jake, leaned in toward you. "Are you okay?" he asked, you swallowed, nodding quickly, keeping your gaze firmly on your desk.

"Did you eat?" You nodded again.

"Do you have time for lunch later?" You pause, your throat felt dry. You hesitated, sneaking a glance at Jay. Only to be met with an icy glare piercing straight through you.

Jake, still in his own world, leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, just for you. "Did you enjoy last night?"

Your grip tightened around your pen. Your breath felt shaky. You notice Sunoo's head tilted ever so slightly.

Jake smirked, barely audible as he added, "Do you think there should be a next time?"

A thrill shot through you—excitement, nerves, anticipation. Of course, you wanted that. Of course, It's a yes! It's a fucking yes!

Jay's posture had gone rigid. His hands curled into fists, his shoulders squared. You turned your head slightly, and there it was— That look, sharp and cold—but unmistakably directed at you.

Jake, completely oblivious, kept his soft smile, his fingers lightly drumming against the desk as he waited for your answer, but you're attention was not on him anymore. Because Jay's glare was burning into the side of your face, setting every nerve in your body on edge.

Why was he looking at you like that?! Why did it feel like he was angry?

Your throat felt dry, your palms clammy. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away, staring down at your iPad as if it could somehow shield you from whatever the hell Jay's problem was.

Jake nudged you lightly, still waiting.

"Uh, only if both of you mind," you managed to say, your voice light, a forced chuckle following your words. And because you were stupid, because some part of you needed to check, you glanced at Jay, just for a second. What a big mistake.

His eyes bore into you, glaring through your skull.  You snapped your head away, heat crawling up your neck.

What the hell is his problem?

The sex was good. No—more than that. It was amazing. It was the first time you ever felt that good, the first time sex had ever been something.

So why was he glaring?

It wasn't like you were about to steal Jake away from him. It wasn't like you had forced him into it. He agreed, didn't he? Unless... Did he not enjoy it? Was this whole situation making him uncomfortable? Did he regret it?

Maybe you were overthinking. Maybe he was just being his usual self. Maybe you should just walk away now, act like it never happened. Maybe that was what Jay wanted.

Agh, you're confused.

Sunoo lazily popped a sour candy into his mouth, squinting as the tartness hit his tongue. He let out a small grunt, shifting to a more comfortable position on the grass. The afternoon sun was hot, beating down on both of you, but you are too focused on your internal dilemma to noticed the heat.

"What does it mean if you have two friends? Friend number one smiles at you, treats you well, but friend number two always glares at you. But—" you paused, picking at the hem of your uniform, "friend number two is perfectly nice to friend number one?"

Sunoo gave you a long, unimpressed look, slowly chewing. "It means friend number two doesn't like you," he grumbled, voice flat, as if the answer was obvious.

You frowned, hugging your knees to your chest. "But what if..." You hesitated, debating whether you should even continue.

Sunoo sighed dramatically. "Oh, here we go. What if?"

You rolled your eyes but pressed on. "What if friend number one, friend number two, and I... shared a happy moment?"

Sunoo raised a brow. "Shared a happy moment? What the hell does that even mean?"

You felt heat creep up your neck. "I mean, like—" You cleared your throat. "Something really good happened, something we all enjoyed together. But now, friend number two acts weird with me."

Sunoo chewed thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "Maybe friend number two just thinks of those happy moments as something they only wanted to share with friend number one."

You bit your lip, heart sinking.

"Maybe friend number two is jealous," Sunoo continued, tossing another candy into his mouth. "Because you got to be part of something they wanted to keep just between them and friend number one."

You inhaled sharply, your body shifting as you leaned back on your palms, eyes fixed on the field in front of you. The rhythmic sounds of students laughing and running filled the air

"Can friend number two just tell me they hate me already?" you muttered, exasperated. "I'm overthinking everything at this point."

Sunoo snorted, reaching into his pocket before offering you his pack of sour candy. "You expect men to communicate? Not a chance."

You rolled your eyes but took the package from him, ripping it open. "I never said friend number two was a man, geez," you huffed, popping a candy into your mouth. The sharp, sour taste made you wince slightly.

"I'm not that dumb, bitch." Sunoo grumble as he turned to you. You clicked your tongue but said nothing. Sunoo wasn't an idiot. If anything, he probably already had an idea of what—or who—this was really about. But thankfully, he didn't push any further.

With a sigh, you started thinking again. Was that really it? Did he really hate you? Was he really just jealous?

Your fingers curled against the grass, the uneven texture grounding you. If he didn't want you there, if he didn't want to share Jake, then why didn't he just stop it from the beginning?

He was the one who convinced you. He was the one who told you to give it a chance. And yet now, every time you saw him, his eyes burned into you.

You swallowed hard, staring blankly ahead. His words echoed in your mind.

"He's mine—and letting you into our bed doesn't mean anything more. You're just there for fun."

"I'll always be the one who fucks him better."

Maybe that was all this was. A reminder and a warning to know your place.

You sighed, rubbing your temple before shoving another sour candy into your mouth. The sharp, tangy taste made you wince.

Just like him. Acting so fucking sour.

Jay's life was a fucking mess.

Every time he saw you, he remembered. Every time he didn't see you, he still remembered.

It pissed him off to no end. It made him furious that his brain kept replaying that night—your whines, your shaking legs, the way you screamed when you came undone on Jake's fingers.

He scoffed, almost laughing at himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was Park Jongseong, for fuck's sake. There was no way in hell he was going to let some pathetic girl like you get under his skin.

You weren't special. You were just a moment—a mistake, something that should've been forgettable.

And yet. Why the fuck was he hard right now, thinking about the way you squirted all over his sheets? The way your body trembled when he slapped your pussy raw, the way your lips parted when you gasped for air under his grip?

His jaw tightened. He hated you. He fucking hated you. He hated your guts. He hated the way you always stared at his boyfriend with those wide, hungry eyes. He hated that you got to see Jake like that, got to have his attention, even for a moment.

Most of all, though— He hated that you never once looked at him the same way.

"Is she replying to you? Because she's not responding to me." Jake let out a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the bed. His phone dangled loosely in his grip as he stared up at the ceiling, defeated. "She won't even accept my follow request."

Jay didn't respond. He just kept typing on his laptop, the only sound in the room was the faint clicking of his keyboard.

Jake glanced at his phone again, lips pressing together. "Is she okay? She's been wearing turtlenecks under her uniform for almost a week now," he muttered. "And her voice—it's different. Kinda raspy. I noticed it during our Social Psych class."

Jay's typing slowed as Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Do you think she's avoiding us? Did I do something wrong? Am I making her uncomfortable?"

Jay inhaled deeply, fingers pausing on the keyboard as his boyfriend's endless stream of questions continued.

"I think she's more comfortable with you," Jake added, eyes still fixed on his phone.

Jay almost laughed. Comfortable with him? Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes before finally speaking. "She would come back if she wanted to," he muttered, still not looking away from his screen. "Stop overthinking it."

Jake frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm not overthinking. I just want to know if she's okay."

Jay clenched his jaw. "She's fine."

"You don't know that," Jake countered. "You haven't even checked on her."

Jay's fingers twitched. "You have," he shot back. "So why does it matter what I do?"

Jake sighed, shaking his head. "Because I know you care, even if you don't want to admit it."

Jay stiffened, his fingers tightening around his mouse. Jake sat up straighter, watching him carefully. "I just want to fix things, okay? She's been distant. And I don't think it's just because she's busy."

"Just leave her alone for the meantime," Jay muttered, trying to keep his tone neutral, but the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the irritation underneath Jay's words. "Babe, why are you so—"

"I'm not anything," Jay cut him off sharply, fingers resuming their typing, even though he wasn't actually focusing on the screen anymore.

Why does it matter so much? Why can't Jake just let it go? They had their fun, it happened, and now it was done. It was supposed to be done. But no—Jake kept thinking about you, kept asking about you, kept caring about you. It was pissing Jay off.

And what pissed him off even more was the fact that he wasn't any better. He didn't want to think about you.

Jay's fingers stilled on the keyboard.

You weren't even interacting with them anymore. You barely even looked at them. You were just out there, minding your own business, avoiding them. And yet, you still had this effect on both of them.

Jake was concerned about you.  Jay was pissed. That was it. That was all. He had no other reason to care.

"Jay?" Jake's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

Jay exhaled through his nose, forcing his hands to relax. "Do whatever you want," he muttered. "Just don't expect me to give a shit."

Jay didn't know what kind of cosmic joke this was—how out of every possible student in this class, he ended up paired with you. Just two minor courses and one major, and somehow, somehow, he still couldn't escape you.

Like life was just laughing at him. And as if his patience wasn't already wearing thin, your stupid alarm had to go off. Again.

"Can you fucking turn off your alarm?" he hissed, glaring at you from across the table.

You blinked at him, unbothered, barely sparing him a glance as you silenced your phone. "It's just an alarm. Chill."

"Excuse me? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Sunoo snapped beside you, rolling his eyes as he turned to Jay. "That's her alarm for her medicine."

Jay's jaw clenched. Of course your annoying best friend would come to your rescue. Not only was he stuck in a group with you, but Sunoo too—and somehow, by some miracle, without Jake around to be the buffer between him and his growing irritation.

What the fuck was he even doing here? And what was with this medicine you kept taking at exactly 3:30 PM?

Not that he cared, but it pissed him off that every time he was forced to be around you, your stupid alarm would interrupt the discussion, and then you'd excuse yourself to the bathroom.

It pissed him off that he had to spend another minute waiting for you to come back. He hated that he was noticing things about you. Like how you avoided looking at him unless you absolutely had to, like he wasn't even worth acknowledging.

You grab your bag and stand up, ready to leave, of course, Sunoo follows instantly, picking up your tumbler like some kind of assistant.

Before either of you can take a step, Jay huffs, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.

"Just take the damn medicine here," he says, sounding beyond annoyed. "I don't want to waste my time waiting for you two to come back. There's literally five minutes left in this meeting."

Both you and Sunoo pause, staring at him. Sunoo squints, looking personally offended by the audacity.

Meanwhile, you hesitate, shifting awkwardly before reluctantly sitting back down. You send Sunoo a silent look—a desperate please, let's just drop this before Jay kills me kind of look.

Jay watched as Sunoo sat down, rummaged through your bag with way too much enthusiasm, practically throwing things aside until he found what he was looking for.

"You're being so fucking insensitive," Sunoo snapped, pulling out a small container of pills and dramatically placing them in front of you. "She's literally sick."

Jay rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair, arms crossed. "It's not like I told her not to take them."

"You're acting like it's an inconvenience!" Sunoo shot back, popping the cap off your tumbler. "She needs these!"

Meanwhile, you were panicking. Sunoo didn't actually know why you were taking the medication—only that you'd been struggling with swallowing and breathing. He was there when you went to get it checked out, and he had shrieked so loudly at the doctor's office upon seeing the bruises on your throat that security almost got called. You had to practically beg them not to report it as abuse.

Jay's gaze flickered toward you, watching how stiff you had gotten, your fingers curling around the edge of the table. Suspicious.

His patience was already hanging by a thread, and every group meeting was making it worse. Every single time, Jake would sit beside you, smiling, asking about your day, treating you like nothing had changed. And you would talk to him in the same soft tone, laughing lightly, joking, as if things were perfectly fine.

But when it came to Jay, you barely even looked at him.

Jay's hands curled into fists under the table. Did you really like Jake that much?

"Just take the damn pill and let's finish this," he muttered, looking away.

Sunoo clicked his tongue, clearly still pissed, but you sighed. Grabbing the medicine, you tossed it back with a sip of water, trying not to feel like you were swallowing more than just the pill.

Sunoo huffed dramatically, slumping back in his chair, arms crossed as he blew his bangs out of his face. Then, in a whisper just loud enough for you to hear, he muttered, "God, he's so sour."

You nearly choked on your water, barely managing to swallow before coughing into your sleeve. Meanwhile, across the table, Jay's eye twitched, his fingers pausing mid-typing.

Yeah, he definitely heard that.

"I did not study Psychology to be dealing with people like him. I swear, I don't get it! His boyfriend, Jake, is an actual sunshine. How the hell did he end up with someone like that? He's such an asshole—I want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze."

Sunoo groans dramatically, throwing his hands in the air like he's physically choking someone.

You snort, patting his back in an attempt to soothe him. "Easy there, I don't think murder is part of the syllabus."

"I know he's serious about his work, but I didn't expect him to be this much of a dick about it! What's his problem?" Sunoo huffs, his fists clenching. "Do you want me to go back there and punch him? Because I will. Gladly."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "I don't think that'll help."

Sunoo lets out another exaggerated sigh, slumping against the bench you're both sitting on. "This is exactly why I hate men."

"You do realize he's gay, right?" You whisper, rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles.

Sunoo glares at you, eyes narrowing. "And? He's still a man! God!" He throws his head back dramatically. "Why are they all like this? Why can't they just be normal and not emotionally constipated?"

You chuckle, resting your chin on your palm. "You're so worked up about this."

"I am worked up! I don't like seeing my best friend treated like trash. That's my job!" Sunoo pokes your forehead lightly. "Not some grumpy, brooding asshole with control issues."

You sigh, offering a small smile as you murmur something to calm him down. He huffs but eventually lets it go, leaning back with his arms crossed.

It had been a week since everything happened. And to your credit, you were doing a great job avoiding them—or, well, avoiding Jay.

Jake was different. Jake was nice. He kept talking to you, his usual warmth never faltering. Always so soft, always so considerate. It was hard keeping your distance when he was so genuinely kind to you.

Unlike Jay, Jake never gave you a reason to feel unwanted. He'd ask if his proximity made you uncomfortable, if you'd eaten, how you were feeling. But somehow, despite everything, he never brought up that night again. Not once did he mention the sex, didn't push for another time, didn't make any suggestive comments.

You weren't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Well, Jay... that was a different story entirely. You couldn't afford to talk to him. Couldn't even look at him. His attitude, his gaze, the way he seemed to burn with irritation every time you were anywhere near—it made everything so much harder.

You were convinced at this point. Park Jongseong hated you. And somehow, Jake had no idea.

And yet, you still wanted him. Both of them, It was pathetic.

No matter how much he glared, no matter how cold he acted, your body still reacted to him. Your mind still wandered into dangerous places, imagining things.

Like the way his hands would feel pinning you down, his fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you from behind—frustrated, rough, using you to work out whatever twisted anger he had toward you.

Or maybe Jake would be there, slipping underneath, his soft mouth on your clit while Jay kept you spread open for him. His tongue moving in slow, teasing circles, coaxing you to the edge while Jay's cock filled you.

You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but your thighs clenched instinctively.

God, you were so pathetic. Back to being the desperate girl thirsting over men who weren't even yours to begin with.

It would never happen again. You repeated it in your head.

Another week passed, and you finally ditched the turtlenecks. The bruises were still there, faint shadows against your skin, but barely noticeable unless someone really looked which you doubted anyone would.

"I swear, after midterms, I'm going to sleep for a full twenty-four hours," you muttered, scrolling through your research on your iPad. Your pen skimmed across the screen, underlining sections that needed revision.

"I just want to treat myself," Sunoo sighed, resting his chin on his palm. "Maybe a red velvet cake or something."

You hummed, mimicking his pose, eyes distant as you both fell into a much-needed daydream. "I wanna try the matcha strawberry drink from that new café at the Avenue. This week has been so draining." You sighed, letting your shoulders slump. "I'm also craving marshmallows, but honestly? I don't even think I deserve them."

Across the table, Jay huffed—that sharp, irritated sound you'd grown far too familiar with. You didn't even need to look up to know he was watching, that signature glare aimed straight at you and Sunoo.

"Can you focus?" His voice ruined your lighthearted moment. "We're almost done. Stop wasting time."

You quickly dropped your gaze back to your iPad, pretending to be engrossed in your notes. But your fingers fidgeted with the stylus. Sunoo, made a loud show of flipping open his book, rolling his eyes so hard.

"God, you're so uptight," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Jay to hear.

Not long after, Jake appeared, all warmth and sunshine, his smile instantly making the mood lighter. "Hey," he greeted, his voice soft as he glanced at you before nodding at Sunoo.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up—straightening a little, fingers brushing over your hair, smoothing down your uniform. It wasn't intentional, but Jay noticed. His grip on his pen tightened just slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Are you finished?" Jake murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Jay's temple before settling beside him.

Jay hummed in response, not looking up, but his hand instinctively brushed around Jake's waist, a small acknowledgment of his presence.

Sunoo gagged dramatically, clutching his chest like he was in physical pain. "Jesus Christ, not in front of us, please," he groaned, rubbing his arms like the display of affection had given him hives.

Jake just laughed, completely unbothered. "What? You don't like a little affection?"

"I like affection," Sunoo huffed, flipping a page with unnecessary force. "I don't like seeing gay love flaunted in front of me, knowing I'm single and trying to work."

Jake smirked, leaning further into Jay just to be annoying, kissing his cheek. "Hmm, okay," he said simply.

You chuckled at their antics, but the laughter caught in your throat the moment your eyes met his. Your breath hitched slightly, and you quickly looked away, suddenly hyper-aware of how comfortable you were around Jake compared to the awkward tension that always came with Jay.

Geez, you can't even be happy in front of him.

Jake knew himself well enough to admit that sometimes he could be too pushy when he wanted something. But he wasn't insensitive. He noticed things, especially when it came to the people he cared about.

And lately, he'd been noticing a lot. Jay's behavior toward you wasn't just cold—it was rough. The sharp glances, the clipped tone, the way his patience seemed to wear thinner whenever you were around. At first, Jake thought it was just Jay being Jay, the brooding, possessive, easily annoyed. But the longer it went on, the more it started to feel different.

That was why Jake had been careful. He didn't push too hard. He avoided bringing you up in conversations with Jay, kept his interactions with you light, casual. But he couldn't completely ignore you. Not when he'd noticed the way your breath sometimes slowed, how you would press your fingers against your throat absentmindedly, as if checking for something. Not the time when you still wore high-collared tops long after the bruises should've faded. He knew Jay had left those marks. And he knew, deep down, Jay knew that, too.

Jake couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Did Jay regret what happened? Was he jealous of you? Jake knew how possessive Jay could be, how he had always been the type to express his emotions through actions rather than words. Maybe Jake should've just let it go. Maybe he should've left you alone for the sake of Jay's peace of mind. But every time he thought about it, something in his gut told him that wasn't the answer.

"Fuck—just like that," Jay groaned, fingers tightening in his hair, hips snapping forward, chasing more of that heat, more of that wet, perfect warmth.

Jake hummed, taking him deeper, his throat swallowing around him. Jay shuddered, his thighs trembling slightly.

Jay's mind was a wreck — being in the same group as you? Tolerable. Jay was starting to tolerate you. But that didn't mean he didn't hate you. God—he hated you.

His grip tightened in Jake's hair, frustration bubbling over as he fucked into his boyfriend's mouth with more force, each thrust carrying a weight he couldn't put into words. Jake moaned around him, wide eyes flicking up, locking onto his as he bobbed his head, matching his rhythm perfectly.

Jake looked so fucking beautiful like this.

Jay let out a shaky breath, head tipping back for a moment before his thoughts dragged him back to you.

Why the fuck do you keep looking at Jake like that? Why do you always pull away when he walks in? Why does your smile always falter the moment he gets near?

You were so soft with everyone else—laughing, chatting, existing like a normal person. But with him? It was different.

Your shoulders tensed. Your voice lowered. You avoided him, even in small things—passing papers, choosing seats, glancing his way. Even when you had to sit next to him, you made yourself small. So close, yet always so far away.

He shouldn't care. He fucking hated you. So why did it feel like he was losing his mind over this?

"Jake—" his voice was strained, stomach tightening, his body wound so tight. "I'm close."

Jake hummed in response, vibrations sending pleasure through him. His boyfriend was eager, tongue swirling around his shaft, making his legs tremble.

Jay's jaw clenched, his whole body coiling as his release built up.

And then—your face flashed through his mind. The way you walked into the lecture hall, pretending you didn't see him. The way you laughed at something Sunoo said, your shoulders relaxing the second you thought Jay wasn't watching.

Jay was always watching, he was always looking at you. And you never looked at him.

Look at me, his mind screamed every time. Just fucking look at me. But you never did.

His orgasm ripped through him, his whole body shaking, his head tipping back as his eyes rolled, a loud whine tearing from his throat.

He whispered your name. His hips stuttered, mindlessly thrusting into Jake's mouth, the echo of your name slipping past his lips, again and again.

Jake pulled off, gasping for air, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His brows furrowed slightly, staring at Jay with confusion before chuckling.

"Did you just—"

Jay collapsed back against the couch, breathless, his arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling heavily. Jake's fingers glided up his stomach, watching him closely.

And even now—Even after coming. Your name was still on Jay's lips.

That made Jake's cock twitch. He liked this. He liked Jay this way—angry, possessive, completely in denial.

A slow smirk curled Jake's lips as he leaned back against the couch, eyes lidded as he reached for his zipper. The sound of it unzipping filled the air, followed by the rustle of fabric as he tugged his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself.

His fingers wrapped around his cock, dragging along the length, thumb circling the slit as he collected the precum beading at the tip.

Jay watched him, He didn't say anything, didn't move—but Jake saw it. The way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. The way his fingers twitched at his sides. The way his gaze lingered.

Jake let out a soft gasp, biting his lip before stroking himself faster. "Let's fuck her again," he murmured, His eyes flickered up, locking onto Jay's dark stare. "Shall we?"

Jay stirred, shifting slightly.

Jake hummed, his pace quickening. "I want to do more things with her," he moaned, hips stuttering into his own grip. "Thought you hated her, thought you wanted nothing to do with her, but—fuck—" he inhaled sharply, smirking through his pleasure. "You're just denying things, huh?"

Jay's cock twitched.

"You make things so fucking difficult," Jake moaned, tilting his head back, his free hand dragging up his stomach. "If you weren't so prideful, we'd already have her between us again."

Jay inhaled sharply through his nose, his control slipping. He moved before he could stop himself—grabbing Jake's wrist, ripping his hand away from his cock.

Jake gasped, pleasure cut off instantly as Jay loomed over him, eyes burning. "Shut the fuck up," Jay growled, his grip tight. His other hand snapped to Jake's thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jake's lips parted, his breath shaky—but then he grinned again, riling him further.

"You're so full of shit, baby," Jake moaned. "Acting like you hate her, when really, you just wanna ruin her."

He shifted under Jay's hold, spreading his thighs slightly, giving him more of a view. "Come on, just admit it," he murmured, his voice teasing, breathless. "You liked fucking her. You liked the way she fell apart under you—how desperate she was, how much she wanted it."

Jay's breath hitched, nostrils flaring. Jake leaned in closer, lips brushing against his jaw, voice dropping to a whisper. "And now, you can't stop thinking about her, can you?"

Jay's fingers twitched, feeling the rush of heat.

"You wanna know if she thinks about it, too?" Jake continued, his free hand sliding up Jay's chest, fingers tracing over the fabric of his shirt. "If she touches herself to the memory of you?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jay snapped. He grabbed Jake roughly, flipping him over onto his stomach before yanking his hips up, positioning himself at his ass. Using his own cum from earlier as lubrication, he pushed inside in one rough thrust.

Jake gasped, his mouth falling open in a silent moan before it turned into a loud, wanton cry. His fingers clawed at the couch, his back arching. "Fucking yes—"

Jay didn't wait, didn't give him time to adjust. He fucked into him—deep, brutal thrusts, each one fueled by the mess in his head, the tangled thoughts that refused to leave him alone.

"Fuck," Jay gritted out, his hands gripping Jake's waist hard enough to bruise. His pace was relentless, hips snapping forward with enough force to shove Jake up. "You think I give a shit about what she does?"

Jake moaned, back curving further as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, meeting Jay's thrusts. "I think you do," he panted, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips despite the way his body trembled from the rough pace. "I think you care—I think you hate that you care."

Jay growled, his fingers tangling in Jake's hair, yanking his head back roughly. "Shut. The fuck. Up."

Jake only moaned louder, his own cock leaking against the rough fabric of the couch. "That's right, baby," he gasped, voice breaking from pleasure. "Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Imagine her in my place—imagine that tight little pussy wrapped around your cock instead—"

Jay let out a loud, guttural groan, his pace turning frantic. His mind flashed to you—flashed to the way you bit your lip when you were nervous, the way your breath hitched when Jake touched you, the way your thighs clenched together when you thought no one was watching.

"Fuck, Jay!" Jake cried out when Jay angled his hips, slamming into his prostate repeatedly. His body trembled, fingers fisting at nothing, lost in the brutal rhythm. "God—yes! Just like that—faster—"

Jay's grip tightened. His vision blurred, thoughts colliding into each other, overwhelming him. Your lips. Your moans. The way your walls clenched around his fingers

His frustration boiled over. His jealousy. His confusion. His anger. And still, your name slipped from his lips.

Jake smirked despite the overwhelming pleasure wrecking his body. His teasing voice was broken between moans. "Fuck, Jay—do you want her?" His breath hitched when Jay thrust harder, his whole body shaking. "Are you gonna take her again? Ruin her—make her fucking yours?"

Jay groaned, his fingers bruising into Jake's skin. His answer came through gritted teeth.

"Fucking yes."

You plopped back into your seat, setting your tumbler down with a sigh, when your eyes landed on the unexpected sight in front of you.

A pack of marshmallows sat right on top of your notes, neatly placed beside your scattered belongings. Brows furrowing, you picked it up, turning it over in your hands. "Huh? Where did this come from?"

Jay barely spared you a glance, fingers typing away on his laptop. "That's been there since before you left to refill your water."

You blinked, confused. "What? No way."

"You got a goldfish brain or something?" Jay's brow twitched in irritation. "God, stop disturbing me."

You scowled at his attitude but chose to ignore it, more focused on the marshmallows that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Sunoo plopped down beside you, a cup of mint ice cream in hand. His spoon clinked against the container as he scooped a bite into his mouth.

"Hey, Sunoo." You turned to him, still holding up the marshmallow pack. "Did I buy these?"

Sunoo tilted his head, squinting as if trying to recall. "Uh... maybe? You did say you were craving marshmallows." He shrugged.

You frowned, glancing back at the pack before shaking your head. "Weird. I don't remember buying them."

"Maybe you did and just forgot. You've been drowning in schoolwork lately." Sunoo licked his spoon, then smirked. "Or maybe you've got a secret admirer."

You snorted, tearing open the pack. "Doubt it." Jay's typing faltered for half a second, but he quickly resumed. Shrugging off the thought, you popped a marshmallow into your mouth, savoring the soft, sugary texture.

"Either way, free marshmallows," you mumbled, offering the bag to Sunoo.

Sunoo happily grabbed one, humming in satisfaction. You turned to Jay, nudging the bag toward him, but he barely glanced up from his laptop. Instead, he waved you off with a dismissive shrug.

Typical. You didn't push, rolling your eyes as you stuffed another marshmallow into your mouth.

The following meetings were okay. No unnecessary arguments, no tension that made you want to shrink into yourself. Things were flowing smoothly.

Except, you started noticing something. Jake was around more often. He claimed it was because he preferred working on his research alongside his boyfriend, but Sunoo had made a dramatic gagging sound the moment Jake sat down, whispering, "Yeah, sure. Totally research-related."

Jake also seemed to be getting... casual with you. Too casual. His hand would rest on your thigh, just sitting, his fingers sometimes absentmindedly rubbing up and down. Or he'd casually hook his arm through yours while walking. You didn't really think much of it. Sunoo did the exact same thing. And, well, Jake was Jake—affectionate, playful, and friendly. You were comfortable with him. It felt natural.

Jay, on the other hand... His behavior was still sour. Or at least, that's what you'd call it if he actually interacted with you at all. He wasn't glaring anymore—not as much, anyway. But he also wasn't looking at you. At all. Not once. He'd walk behind you while you, Jake, and Sunoo chatted and laughed about whatever nonsense came to mind, Jay was always completely silent. Always present but never engaging.

"What the hell?!" Sunoo practically screeched, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jake. His face was twisted in pure betrayal. "I knew you two were fishy! Fucking traitors!"

You and Jake burst into laughter, barely holding onto your phones as you clutched your stomachs. The screen in your hands displayed 'Impostor Wins' in bold letters.

Jake was shaking with suppressed laughter, his head buried against your shoulder as his body trembled with the effort not to be too loud. Meanwhile, Sunoo sat there fuming, eyes narrowed in frustration as he dramatically crossed his arms.

"I trusted you," Sunoo huffed, glaring at Jake. "You were my partner! And you—" He turned to you, jabbing a finger in your direction. "You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I'm sorry!" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your eye. "It was too easy! You fell for it!"

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head.

Jay, who had been slumped over the table, twitched at the sudden noise, lifting his head slightly to glance at the three of you. He looked exhausted, his jaw tightening slightly as he took in the way Jake was still pressed against you, his head resting against your shoulder, hand resting a little too comfortably on your thigh.

"Okay, okay, rematch?" you offered, nudging Sunoo with your foot. Sunoo huffed. "I'm not playing with you two anymore. I need new allies."

Jake grinned, finally lifting his head from your shoulder, his hand lazily tapping at his phone screen. "Come on, don't be like that, Sunoo. It's just a game."

"A game?" Sunoo repeated, looking personally offended. "I died for you. I defended you! I saw you kill someone, and I still voted for someone else!"

You and Jake exchanged amused glances before dissolving into laughter again. Jay slammed his laptop shut. The sound was loud enough to startle all three of you, making your heads snap toward him.

"I'm leaving." He said.

You stared at him, blinking in confusion. "Huh?"

Jake straightened up, his playful expression fading slightly. "You okay, babe?"

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he stood up abruptly, slinging his bag over his shoulder before shoving his chair back into place with more force than necessary.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, swallowing. "Uh... I thought we were gonna—"

"I want to sleep," Jay cut you off, his tone cold. His eyes flickered to you briefly, before looking away just as fast. And just like that, he walked out without another word.

The three of you exchanged glances, the silence stretching uncomfortably. Then, Jake sighed, standing up as well. "I'll go talk to him."

"Here we go again," Sunoo muttered under his breath, popping another piece of candy into his mouth.

You wrinkled your nose at him, nudging his leg under the table. "Shut up."

Sunoo smirked, nudging you back. "What? It's entertaining. "

You huffed, slumping back in your chair.

You told yourself over and over again that it wasn't your fault. That Jay's jealousy—because at this point, you were convinced that's what it was—was his own issue. Not yours.

But it was getting harder to ignore when Jake was pressed behind you, arms wrapped securely around your waist, his chest flush against your back. When he was nuzzling into the crook of your neck, murmuring things that weren't even remotely suggestive, but the warmth of his breath against your skin made your knees weak anyway.

And it was impossible to ignore when Jay was sitting right across from you, staring. You felt like a pawn in whatever unspoken battle Jay was having with himself.

Sunoo was oblivious—or maybe just used to this—was too busy fixing his makeup to acknowledge the suffocating tension in the air.

Jake would whisper little things in your ear, casual gossip, things that should not have been turning you on, but the way his lips brushed against your skin with every word sent sparks through your core.

You wanted Jay to do something about it.

You knew he hated you. But deep down, you still hoped—prayed—that whatever this was, whatever anger or frustration he was harboring, he would take it out on you.

That he would grab you by the waist and shove you into the nearest surface. That he would bruise you all over again, mark you up until you belonged to him. That he would shove his cock down your throat, just like last time, ignoring the way you gasped for air, not caring if you were still recovering. Fuck the doctors prescription.

God knows you wanted it. Every night, you would find yourself alone, your fingers curling between your thighs, biting down on your lip to stop from moaning their names. Jake, with his sweet kisses and lingering touches. Jay, with his rough hands and punishing pace.

Would they ever ask again? Would Jake pull you into his lap, whispering in your ear that they missed you? Would Jay finally snap, throw you onto the bed, and take you? Even though you don't deserve it?

You imagined them ruining you, stretching you out together, stuffing you full until there was nothing left of you but the sound of your own choked moans.

Or Jay filling you up, his cum dripping down your thighs. Jake licking it up, kissing your swollen clit before shoving his cock into you next.

"Shit—fuck!" you gasped, thighs clenching around your hand as your mini vibrator sent sharp pulses straight to your core. Your body arched violently off the mattress, hips trembling as waves of pleasure surged through you.

Your back hit the sheets again, your head tilting back as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Every muscle in your body tensed, heat coiling tightly in your abdomen before snapping all at once.

"Thank you—thank you," you moaned breathlessly, tossing the vibrator aside, but your fingers didn't stop. Desperation clawed at your skin as you rubbed tight, insistent circles over your clit, the oversensitivity making your entire body jolt.

Your legs spasmed, toes curling as cold sweat slicked your skin. The tension didn't ease, it only built higher, higher, until suddenly their faces flashed behind your closed eyes.

Jake, whispering filth into your ear, his hands gripping your thighs as he kissed his way down.

Jay, pinning you in place, his fingers tight around your throat, his breath warm against your lips as he growled in your ear.

The image alone sent you spiraling.

Your hips twitched, grinding against your own fingers, chasing more, needing more. You whined, the sound escaping without your permission as your body trembled violently.

"Oh—fuck! Fuck! Ahh!"

Your release hit again, crashing into you, your entire body shuddering as liquid gushed from between your legs, soaking the sheets beneath you. Your thighs clamped shut, your fingers stalling against your clit as the aftershocks rolled through you.

Your chest heaved, your heartbeat erratic, the high still pulsing through your veins. You lay there, boneless, ruined, your sheets damp, your body twitching with every lingering spark of pleasure.

The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing and the faint, continuous buzzing of the forgotten vibrator beside you.

You sigh, staring at the ceiling. Post orgasm crashing into you. Frustration suddenly kicking in.

Frustrated because nothing seemed to satisfy you. Frustrated because no matter what you did—you couldn't forget them.

Frustrated because... God help you. You wanted it to happen again.

"How do you initiate sex?" You blurted out, glancing at Sunoo, who was casually fixing his hair in his compact mirror. "Like... how do you tell them you want to do it again?"

Sunoo froze, his reflection staring back at him before he slowly turned to you, eyes squinting in pure offense. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

You frowned. "Who else am I supposed to ask?"

He huffed, snapping his mirror shut. "Babe, first of all, I don't do seconds. If I hit once, it's a one-time event. No reruns." He gave you a pointed look. "But if you're desperate—which, let's be honest, you are—just text them 'hey, dtf?'"

You groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. "No! It's—ugh!" You covered your face, muffling another groan. "Nevermind! Fuck!" You give up as you threw your hands up in defeat.

"Hey!"

You jumped slightly at the sudden voice, turning to see Jake standing behind you, his usual bright smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, he reached out and ruffled Sunoo's hair, only to get a sharp slap on the back in response. Jake laughed but winced at the impact, rubbing the spot where Sunoo had hit him.

"Huh? Where's Jay?" You asked, glancing behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend.

"Studying," Jake replied with a shrug. Sitting beside you, settling himself in the ground.

"What?! Midterms just ended!" Sunoo huffed, crossing his arms. "Force your boyfriend to take a break! We were planning to get caramel macchiatos with you guys." He muttered, still fussing over his hair that Jake had messed up.

Jake chuckled. "I'd love to, but you know Jay. He's—"

"Anyways, Jake, how do you initiate sex?" Sunoo cut him off, completely changing the topic.

Your eyes widened in horror. "Sunoo!" You hissed, tugging on his arm, but he only grinned mischievously.

Jake blinked, tilting his head in confusion. "Uh... what?"

"She was asking me earlier," Sunoo continued, completely throwing you under the bus. "How to tell someone she wants to do it again."

Jake's mouth fell open slightly, then a slow smirk spread across his lips. His eyes glinted with amusement as he turned to you.

Your grip on Sunoo tightened, your face heating up instantly. "I wasn't—I didn't—" You shook your head frantically, staring at Jake in sheer embarrassment. "Ignore him!"

Jake's smirk deepened, but he played it cool,  "Oh? And who exactly are we talking about here?"

Your heart nearly stopped. The way his eyes glinted with mischief, the way his lips curled slightly at the edges—he knew. Oh, he fucking knew exactly what Sunoo was referring to. But he was pretending not to.

Sunoo hummed thoughtfully. "Good question! She won't tell me either. Probably some random guy who dicked her down so good she wants seconds."

You choked on your own breath. "Sunoo!"

Jake snorted, biting back a laugh, but his gaze never left you. "Hmm," he mused, tapping his chin dramatically. "Well, if I had to give some advice..." He trailed off, his eyes flickering with amusement as he watched you squirm.

You shot him a warning glare, silently pleading for him to drop it.

He didn't. "I'd say just be straightforward," Jake continued, completely ignoring your flustered expression. "Just shoot them a text, something like, 'Hey, I can't stop thinking about that night. Wanna make it happen again?'" He shrugged. "Easy."

Sunoo nodded in agreement. "See? That's what I told her! But nooo, she wants to overthink it."

You groaned, pressing your hands against your burning face. "I hate both of you."

Jake chuckled, leaning closer, his voice dropping just slightly. "So... is this mystery guy really that good?"

Your breath caught, eyes snapping up to meet his. There was teasing in his tone.  He was fucking with you.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. "Obviously, if she's still thinking about him. Poor girl's down bad."

Jake hummed, tilting his head. "Yeah... must've been one hell of a night."

Thankfully, the topic shifted. Sunoo, being Sunoo, effortlessly steered the conversation toward food and cafés, but by the time 2:00 rolled around, Sunoo stretched his arms with a dramatic sigh. "Alright, I'm out. Gotta visit Wonyoung before she thinks I've abandoned her."

You barely had time to nod before he turned to you with a knowing smirk. "Thank me later."

Your stomach dropped. The realization hit you, before you could stop him, Sunoo was already strutting away, leaving you alone. With Jake.

You were too close to Jake, yet somehow, it still wasn't enough. Your throat felt tight, your heart hammering in your chest as you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his presence.

"I—uh," you started, your voice barely steady, "d-don't mind what Sunoo said—"

Jake didn't even let you finish. "I've been waiting for the perfect moment to ask you myself," he cut in smoothly.

Your eyes snapping to his. There was something about the way he spoke, like he already knew what you wanted—like he could see right through you.

"Ask me what?" You hated how weak your voice sounded, how your throat felt suddenly dry.

Jake leaned in just slightly, enough for you to catch the faintest scent of his cologne. His gaze never wavered. "If you want to do it again."

Your stomach twisted, heat pooling low in your abdomen at the way he said it. His presence was overwhelming, and it took everything in you to stay still, to not shrink away from the intensity in his eyes.

"I'm not a natural talker," he admitted, his fingers brushing against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm not straightforward like Jay. But thank God for making things flow naturally my way." His lips curled into a small smirk, and before you could prepare yourself, he asked, "Did you miss us?"

Your pulse pounded. You shouldn't say it. You should make this harder for him, play coy, pretend you hadn't been thinking about them every damn night, imagining their hands, their mouths. But instead, the word slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

"Yes," you whispered.

Jake hummed, clearly pleased, but before he could say anything else, you hesitated. A weight sat heavy in your chest. "But Jay—" you paused, unsure how to phrase it without sounding pathetic. "Jay hates me."

Jake chuckled, shaking his head as if the idea itself was ridiculous. "Jay definitely does not hate you."

You frowned. "Then why—"

"He's just jealous." Jake cut you off, your heart stuttered. The idea was so absurd that it took a second to process.

"Jealous?" Your brows furrowed. "Of me?"

Jake's grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath fanning against your ear. "Of me."

Your breath caught, your mind struggling to keep up with what he was saying.

"He's jealous of me, baby," Jake murmured, his fingers tracing lightly against the inside of your wrist, his touch barely there, teasing but it makes your pulse jumped under his fingertips.

"Because I get to hug you," he continued, voice velvety smooth, almost hypnotic. "I get to nuzzle my head into your neck. I get your attention."

You exhaled sharply, your body tensing. The way he said it, like it was a privilege—like it was something Jay wanted.

Jake tilted his head, watching you carefully, eyes flickering with amusement. "Tell me," he whispered, his lips hovering just over your skin, "do you miss him too?"

He was toying with you, but damn it, it was working. You knew the answer before he even asked, but saying it out loud was dangerous. That was admitting to something you weren't sure you could handle.

Jake's fingers brushed against your wrist again, featherlight, teasing. He was waiting, watching for your reaction.

You swallowed, throat tight. "I—"

Jake smirked, sensing your hesitation. "You do, don't you?" You hated how easily he read you. How he knew exactly what buttons to press, exactly how to get under your skin.

You exhaled shakily, hands curling into fists on your lap. "If Jay's so jealous, then why does he act like he can't stand me?"

Jake hummed, considering. "Because Jay is a fucking idiot."

You blinked. "What?"

Jake leaned back slightly, arms crossing as he grinned at you. "He's stubborn. Prideful. And he's fighting something he doesn't want to admit."

You frowned, confused. "Fighting what?"

Jake tilted his head, studying you like you were missing something obvious. "You."

Your chest tightened. "Me?"

"You," Jake confirmed, grin widening. "He's pissed because he wants you. And because he doesn't know how to handle it, he's pushing you away instead."

Your stomach flipped. You had convinced yourself Jay hated you, that he regretted everything that happened. But now?

"You're lying." Your voice was weak, but you needed to say it. You needed to convince yourself that Jake was just messing with you.

Jake only chuckled. "Am I?"

You swallowed again, looking away, but Jake wasn't having it. He reached out, his fingers catching your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

"Let me prove it to you," he murmured.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Prove it how?"

Jake smirked, his thumb brushing against your jaw. His next words sent a shiver straight down your spine.

"Let's give him something to be jealous about."

Desperation clouded every thought in your head, everything around you blurring into the background.

You barely remembered how you ended up stumbling into Jay's apartment, your lips locked feverishly with Jake's, hands grasping at each other like. Jay was out doing groceries. You had no idea when he'd be back. And maybe that was what made this so much hotter.

Anticipation coiled in your stomach, excitement tangled with nervous energy. How would Jay react if he walked in on this? Would he be pissed? The mere thought had heat pooling between your thighs, your panties dampening with want.

"Miss you," Jake whined against your lips, arms tightening around your waist. His movements were rushed, needy—like he'd been waiting for this, craving it just as much as you had. His lips parted against yours, the kiss turning sloppy, hot, all tongue and teeth as the two of you stumbled deeper into the apartment.

Neither of you cared to be careful. Jake kicked off his shoes with barely a thought, his fingers already fumbling with the buttons of your uniform blouse, eager to rid you of the fabric. You let him, hands curling around the back of his neck, tugging him down, pressing yourself against him.

Your back hit the couch, Jake's weight pressing into you, his hands tugging impatiently at your uniform. Your breath hitched as his fingers found the last button, parting the fabric to reveal the warmth of your skin. He groaned softly, dipping his head, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, sucking, licking, tasting.

Jake's lips hovered just over yours, teasing, making you chase him. His fingers trailed lower, ghosting over your ribs just enough to make your skin prickle with more anticipation.

"Remember what I told you?" He tilted his head, pressing a quick, featherlight kiss against your lips. But before you could answer, his fingers danced over your bra, fingertips teasing at the fabric, grazing over your already sensitive nipples. The sensation made you shiver, your back arching involuntarily, pressing your chest further into his touch.

A quiet whimper slipping from your lips, and Jake hummed approvingly. "Hey, baby, I asked you a question." Without warning, he tugged your bra down just enough to pinch your nipple between his fingers, rolling it between his fingertips, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure.

"Yes!" you gasped, your hands flying to wrap around his wrist, not to stop him—but to urge him for more. "Please!" Your body was burning with need, aching for him, for anything he'd give you.

Jake chuckled, his breath warm against your lips. "That's my girl," he murmured, before leaning down again, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. His tongue slid past your lips effortlessly, moving against yours.

You clung to him, fingers curling around the fabric of his uniform, tugging at it, silently begging him to take it off. He straightened, exhaling a sharp breath as he worked through each button, fumbling slightly when you kissed his neck, sucking gently at the skin just below his jaw.

"Ahh, fuck," he groaned, his breath hitching as you nipped lightly at his pulse point.

Taking advantage of the moment, you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra, letting it slide down your arms before tossing it aside. The cool air against your bare skin sent another shiver on you, but it was quickly replaced by heat as you hooked your fingers into your skirt, dragging it down along with your underwear.

The second Jake finished undressing, he was on you again, his plump lips crashing into yours with renewed hunger. His hands roamed greedily over your bare skin, mapping out every dip, every curve.

He pressed you further into the couch, one hand slipping between your legs, fingers grazing against your already soaked folds. He groaned at the wetness he found there, pulling back just enough to smirk against your lips.

"Fuck, baby," he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick, teasing but not giving you what you wanted just yet. "You're dripping for me already."

You whimpered, hips shifting toward his hand, but he pulled away slightly, denying you the friction you needed.

"Patience," he cooed, his lips brushing over your jaw, down your throat, leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses. "Let's take our time with this."

But you didn't want time. You wanted him. Now. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back up to crash your lips against his in a desperate kiss, your other hand reaching down, curling around his cock, stroking him slowly.

Jake groaned into your mouth, his hips twitching forward into your grip. "Fuck," he muttered, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. "You're gonna be the death of me."

And with that, he finally gave in, slipping a finger inside you, curling it just right, drawing a moan from your lips.

The two of you had long lost track of time, lost in the haze of pleasure, in the desperate push and pull of each other's bodies.

You didn't know how many times Jake had sunk himself deep inside you, how many times he had come, or how many times he had dragged another orgasm from your overstimulated body.

You were both drunk on each other—on the way his hands molded your body to fit against him, on the way your walls clenched around him so perfectly.

Your legs were pressed close to your chest, folded as Jake held you up, his arms wrapped under your thighs, supporting your weight as he thrust up into you. Your back arched against his chest, your head thrown back over his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as you let him take you.

"I-I can't! I'm cumming again!" You cry.

Jake's whines mixed with your cries, his lips dragging over your neck, pressing soft gentle kisses. His pace quickened, each thrust are harder. Your toes curled, your nails digging into his arms, unable to do anything but take what he gave you.

You were lost, drowning in the sensation, in the heat, in him, until his fingers tangled into your hair, yanking just enough to make your eyes snap open.

You gasped, your walls clenching involuntarily around him at the sudden shift, earning a deep groan from his throat. Your dazed mind barely had time to process what was happening before your blurry vision sharpened—and landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

"Hah! Nghh, fuck! J-Jake!"

Jay was standing in front of you, motionless, his hands clenched at his sides, eyes locked onto the scene before him.

"Oh," Jake exhaled, breathless despite the way his thrusts never faltered. He smirked, leaning in just beside your ear, loud enough for Jay to hear. "Look who finally showed up."

Panic surged through you, heat creeping up your neck. Instinctively wanting to cover yourself, but Jake's grip on your thighs tightened, he instead separate your legs,wide open for Jay to see.

The obscene view of where Jake's cock was buried deep inside you—slick, glistening, your walls clenching around him with every drag of his hips.

You gasped, squirming under Jake's hold, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Jake!" you whined, the desperate plea slipping from your lips. You knew exactly what he was doing, what game he was playing. But seeing Jay right in front of you made you feel too exposed.

"What the hell, Jake?" Jay gaze flickered between the two of you, his lips parting slightly as if struggling to find the right words. His nostrils flared, his breath uneven despite his stillness. "We were supposed to take things slow with her. That's what we agreed on."

Jake only chuckled, his amusement evident. Instead of slowing down, he snapped his hips harder, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls in a way that made your body jolt under him, your breasts bouncing with the impact. A sinful moan tore from your throat, your head falling back against his shoulder again.

"Surprise," Jake murmured, his smirk widening.

The word sent a shiver down your spine, a sharp flashback hitting you—the first time this happened, the way you had watched them, except now, the roles were reversed.

Jay was the one watching.

His hands twitched at his sides, his jaw locked so tight you thought it might snap. His eyes darkened, tracking every movement, every reaction, every shuddering breath you took.

His gaze dipped lower, settling between your legs, watching the way Jake stretched you open, how greedily your body took him. His Adam's apple bobbed, his breathing getting heavier.

He was pissed. You could tell by the way his fingers flexed, by the tension coiling through his frame.

"Can't blame me," Jake exhaled, groaning at the way your walls clenched around him. "I mean, you were too slow. Kept sending her mixed signals." He nuzzled into your neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your pulse, his breath warm against your damp skin. "Poor girl thought you hated her."

Jay's jaw ticked, his lips pressing into a thin line. His fists clenched tighter, the veins in his forearms standing out. He looked like he was on the verge of snapping.

Jake wasn't done. His fingers traced down your stomach, circling teasingly around your clit. He chuckled darkly, his eyes still locked on Jay. "She was too good to be true, Jay."

Jay remained silent, watching the scene you and Jake are making.

Jake smirked. "Did you know she's been taking medicines because you damaged her throat?"

Your breath hitched, eyes widening in panic. "Jake—"

You gripped onto his arms, a silent signal for him to stop, you did tell him that information but you didn't expect him to thrown it out there, in the middle of him fucking you, in the middle of Jay standing there, looking at you like he didn't know if he wanted to drag you into his arms or ruin you completely.

Jay stiffened at the sudden information, his eyes flickering briefly to your throat.

"But still, she wants us," Jake mused, his lips brushing your temple. His thrusts falter but still remain deep. "Still wants you."

Pleasure coiling in your stomach, overwhelming and intoxicating. You were right there, teetering on the edge.

"Jake, I'm close again!" you gasped, your voice trembling.

Jake didn't pull his gaze away from Jay, didn't even blink as he continued rolling his hips into you. His fingers never faltered against your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the brink. But he didn't let you fall—not yet.

"Do you think he deserves you, baby?" Jake asks you, still staring at Jay. You were too far gone, your mind hazy with pleasure, body trembling from the overwhelming sensations Jake was giving you. But even through the haze, you felt the weight of Jay's intense gaze on you.

Your breath hitching as you struggled to form words.

"J-Jay's been mean," you finally managed to stutter, voice shaky, breathless. Your legs twitched as the pleasure kept mounting

Jake hummed in agreement, tilting his head, his expression thoughtful as he slowed his movements, making you whimper in frustration. "Hmm, right?" His lips brushed against your ear. "He's been so mean to you."

You nodded desperately, your mind fogged with pleasure. Every nerve in you was on fire, desperate to finally tip over the edge.

"He should say sorry first, right?" Jake continued, his voice dripping with faux innocence as he looked back at Jay. His fingers on your clit stilled, applying just enough pressure to keep you on the edge but not enough to let you tip over.

Your breath hitched, your body twitching, so needy, so desperate. "Yes—fuck, yes."

"What the fuck?" Jay muttered, dripping with irritation. His patience was hanging by a thread, and Jake knew it.

Jake chuckled and feigned a pout. "Aww, see? Even she agrees. You've been such an asshole to her, Jay. Shouldn't you at least apologize?" His voice was sickeningly sweet, but the way his hips moved against yours, the way he continued to play with you, was anything but innocent.

Jay inhaled sharply, not please with any of this.

"Maybe," Jake drawled, "if you get down on your knees and apologize, she might forgive you."

Jay's nostrils flared. His gaze flickered between you and Jake, his fists tightening. "You're fucking kidding me," he said through gritted teeth.

Jake only grinned, his fingers finally starting to move against your clit again, making you gasp, your back arching into him.

"Not at all," Jake mused. "But, hey, if you don't want her that bad..."

"I guess I'll just keep her all to myself."

You forced your eyes open, looking at Jay—really looking at Jay. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling unevenly. But it was the way his eyes darkened, the way his gaze flickered to where Jake disappeared inside you over and over again,

You whimpered, half-lidded eyes darting down—right to the prominent bulge in his pants. Your mouth went dry. He was hard. So fucking hard.

Jake felt the way your walls clenched tighter, and he groaned, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. "Oh, baby," he cooed, "are you looking at him?"

"J-Ja—" You gasped. You couldn't hold back anymore. The pressure was unbearable, the fire burning through every inch of you. You moaned his name again, this time louder.

Please give in, please give in, please give in.

"Jake's making me feel so good, Jay!"

Jake groaned behind you, his hips snapping faster, chasing his own high. Your whole body convulsed, legs shaking violently as pleasure crashed through you.

A scream ripped from your throat, loud, raw—so much so that Jake had to clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling the sounds as his own breath hitched.

"Fuck," Jake gasped, his rhythm faltering as your walls tightened around him, making it almost impossible to move. He buried himself deep inside you, his breath coming out in ragged pants.

Your vision blurred, your body shaking from the intensity.

But then, you saw Jay, slowly, hesitantly, lowering himself to his knees in front of you.

"Jake," you breathe. You are overstimulated, exhausted, yet somehow—aching for more. The lingering echoes of your orgasm pulsed through your veins, but the sight of Jay kneeling between your legs sent another rush of heat straight to your core.

"That's it, baby," Jake murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction as he pressed soft kisses to your shoulder, his grip on your waist. "Let him see how good you look like this. Let him know who you really want."

A whimper escaped your lips, your body instinctively arching, pushing closer to Jay, despite the sensitivity.

Jay pride had been a stubborn thing, keeping him in denial, making him push you away. But now, as he knelt before you, his fingers flexing as if restraining himself from reaching out—he finally admitted it.

He wanted you.

Jake chuckled lowly, sensing the shift, his hold on you tightening as he spread your legs even wider, exposing every inch of you.

Then, with a teasing hum, Jake pulled out of you, his cock slipping free from your swollen, overstimulated cunt. The sudden emptiness made you whine, your walls fluttering around nothing, aching for the fullness you'd just lost.

"Fuck," Jake groaned, his hands flexing on your thighs. "Look at her, Jay. So fucking pretty like this."

Jay's eyes darkened as they dropped between your legs. His chest rose and fell sharply as he watched—his gaze fixed on the sight of his boyfriend's cum slowly dripping from your pussy, the way your cunt clenched involuntarily, like it was still hungry for more.

"Look at him," Jake whispered, the teasing lilt in his voice sending made you even wetter. "He wants to taste you, baby. Can you see it?"

You swallowed thickly, your fingers gripping onto Jake's arm for support. Your eyes fluttered down, meeting Jay's.

"J-Jay," you finally managed to breathe out.

Jay hands finally moving—gripping your thighs, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh. He leaned in, just close enough for you to feel the ghost of his breath against your still-sensitive skin.

His eyes flickered up, locking onto yours, and, he let you see it.

The gaze of hunger, want, need.

Jake chuckled once again, satisfied. "There you go, baby," he murmured, running his fingers along your stomach, feeling the way your body reacted to Jay's touch. "Now tell him—does he deserve a taste?"

Your breath hitched, heat crawling up your skin. The moment felt surreal—Jay, the man who spent weeks glaring at you, the man who made you feel small with just a look, was now on his knees, waiting.

"M-maybe if he a-apologizes," you stuttered, barely able to get the words out.

Jake chuckled against your neck. "You heard her, Jay," he said as his hand moved to cup your breast, kneading it in slow, deliberate motions. "Apologize."

Jay's jaw clenched, his hands tightening around your thighs as he stared at the two of you. He didn't know what kind of game this was, but fuck—he was getting tired of playing from the sidelines.

"Is your pride really that high?" Jake mused, fingers pinching at your nipple, making you whimper. He kissed the side of your temple, his tone light, teasing. "She said apologize."

Jay hesitated. His pride had always been his downfall, the thing that kept him from saying what needed to be said. But right now, with you trembling before him, with Jake so effortlessly pulling you apart—he knew he had no choice.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, grip tightening on your thighs.

Your breath hitched, the roughness in his voice sending a spark of excitement. Remembering Jake's plan, you frowned, your hands moving on their own, swatting at his hands.

"Not like that," you mumbled, half-lidded eyes peering down at him.

Jake hummed, his lips curling into a smirk as he ran soothing circles on your thigh. "Is that how you apologize?" He tsked, feigning disappointment. "Be sincere, Jay."

Your body leaned further into Jake, nuzzling against his neck. The sight made Jay's eye twitch. His patience was running thin.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, the words heavier this time.

Jake exhaled through his nose, fingers slipping between your folds once more. "She can't hear you," he teased, his tone singsong. His fingers pushed deeper, curling inside you.

Jay gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling inside him. "I said I'm sorry," he repeated, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Jake nipped at your ear, dragging his fingers along your walls at an unbearable pace. Your head lolled to the side, eyes locking onto Jay, pupils blown wide.

"Again," Jake commanded.

Jay exhaled sharply, his nails pressing into your skin. "I'm so sorr—"

Before he could finish, Jake suddenly withdrew his fingers and your hands shot out, gripping Jay's hair, pulling him closer.

Jay barely had time to react before his face was buried between your legs, his nose bumping against your clit.

You gasped, a loud, uncontrollable moan ripping from your throat. Jay stiffened, his hands instinctively gripping your thighs tighter.

"Fuck!" you cried out when you felt Jay's tongue slip inside you, the wet heat sending your mind into a spiral.

Instinctively, your grip on his hair tightened, but his hands kept you in place, stopping you from moving too much.

Jake clicked his tongue at the sight, smirking as he reached down and swatted at Jay's hands, forcing them to let go. He laced his fingers with Jay's instead, squeezing them tight

"Planning to give her more bruises? Is that how you apologize?" Jake teased, watching Jay's brows furrow in frustration.

The moment Jay's hold on you loosened, your body instantly relaxed, and you took advantage of it—hips rolling forward, grinding against his face. Jay let out a muffled grunt, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

Your mouth fell open, breath coming in shaky gasps. "Are you even sincere, Jongie?" You exhaled, your grip easing slightly on his hair. "Maybe me and Jakey should just go to the bedroom and leave you out here all alone..."

Jay's response was immediate, his head shook fervently, tongue angling to flick against your clit before dragging down your folds.

Jake hummed in satisfaction, his fingers tightening around Jay's as he grinded his half-hard cock against your back. "Say sorry to her again," he commanded.

Jay shot him a glare, frustration evident in the sharpness of his gaze. How the fuck was he supposed to apologize when you kept grinding your cunt against his face, making it harder to focus? The constant brush of his nose against your clit, the way your slick coated his lips, the way your hips moved to chase your own pleasure.

He barely had room to breathe, but instead of pulling away, he let his tongue flatten, licking a long, slow stripe up your slit, tasting the mix of you and his boyfriend's fluid.

Jake let out a small chuckle at Jay's obvious struggle. "Come on, baby," he crooned, pressing a teasing kiss against the shell of your ear. "Make him say it properly."

You smile, just barely, though your voice trembled as you spoke. "Apologize, Park Jongseong."

Jay groaned, his entire face tensing before he finally gave in.

"I'm sorry," he gritted out against your cunt, the sound of his muffled desperate voice, combined with the way his mouth moved against you, made your legs tremble.

A choked moan escaped you as your fingers tangled deeper into his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

"I'm close again," you whined, breath hitching as another wave of pleasure built inside you.

Jake hummed, thoughtful, his grip tightening around Jay's hand as he whispered, "Think you can take another one, baby?"

Through the haze of your arousal, you nodded quickly, too desperate to think of anything else.

Jay rolled his eyes at your eagerness before pressing his tongue deeper into your heat, the slick sound of his mouth working against you making your entire body shudder. His tongue curled inside you, swirling, tasting, fucking into you like he was starved.

A strangled whimper tore from your lips, your back arching as your senses blurred into overwhelming pleasure. You could barely think, barely breathe. The sheer intensity of it had your mind spinning, and you almost swore you saw the gates of heaven open for you.

Muttering incoherent words, your hands scrambled for something to hold onto—Jake's arm, Jay's hair, the couch beneath you.

"Yes! Right there!" you cried out.

Jay's eyes flicked up, peering through his lashes, and his cock twitched painfully at the sight before him.

You and Jake were kissing. Sloppy, heated, tongues sliding against each other. Jake swallowed your moans eagerly, rolling his hips into your back, panting softly into your mouth.

Your nipples were painfully hard, your chest rising and falling in time with the pleasure coursing through you. Beads of sweat trickled down your skin, glistening under the dim light, sliding from your collarbone down to your navel, following every curve of your trembling body.

Jay groaned at the sight, a deep, guttural sound vibrating through his throat.

Both of you were too fucking hot.

The way you came undone against his mouth, the way Jake lost himself in the feeling of you. It was too much. His cock throbbed painfully against the fabric of his pants, aching for relief, for attention, for you.

Jake pulled away from the kiss just enough to smirk, his lips swollen and wet. "You enjoying the show?" he teased.

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he doubled down, tongue working furiously against your clit, determined to pull another orgasm from you. If Jake thought he had the upper hand, Jay was more than willing to prove him wrong.

And judging by the way your body tensed, by the way your moans became louder, higher—he was succeeding.

Jay was lapping up everything you gave him, his mouth completely fixated on making you fall apart over and over again. The wet sounds of his tongue working against you mixed with your breathless whimpers, making the room feel unbearably hot.

"Fuck—Jay!" you sobbed, hands fisting into his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation. Your thighs twitched, trembling with the threat of overstimulation, but Jay didn't slow down. If anything, he only got rougher, hungrier.

Jake chuckled lowly, his lips ghosting over your temple before moving down to your jaw, then your neck, pressing light teasing kisses there. "Look at you... So fucking wrecked," he murmured.

Jake let go of Jay's hand, refocusing his attention on you, his fingers toying with your nipple—tweaking, rolling it in time with Jay's movements.

"You're close again, aren't you?" Jake whispered, lips curving against your skin.

You nodded weakly, unable to form words, your body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure built up inside you. It was almost too much—almost unbearable. They were both completely focused on you, every touch, every movement designed to push you further over the edge.

Jay's hands went to gripped your thighs, keeping you locked in place as he worked his tongue against you with ruthless precision.

"J-Jay—" you gasped, thighs threatening to clamp around his head, but his grip was firm, keeping them spread wide.

Jake exhaled sharply, his hips pressing tighter against your back, grinding into you as he watched. "That's it, baby," he encouraged, "let go. Make a mess all over his face."

Jay growled against you, and that was it.

Your orgasm slammed into you again, tearing through your body violently, leaving you shaking, gasping, completely wrecked. Your walls clenched around nothing.

Jay groaned, drinking in everything, his tongue flicking against you a few more times, pushing you through every last tremor. He didn't let up until you physically tried to push him away, whimpering from the overstimulation.

"Fuck," Jake muttered, watching the way your body slumped against him, your chest heaving, your skin flushed with heat. He pressed another lingering kiss against your temple, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

Jay finally pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips glistening. His dark eyes flickered up to meet yours—hooded.

Jake's fingers tilted your chin up, guiding your gaze to him as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly.

Then, his touch disappeared. He turned, grabbing Jay by the nape, pulling him in. You exhaled shakily, watching as their lips crashed together.

Your stomach tightened at the sight, the heat between them palpable. Jake didn't waste any time, licking along Jay's lips before dipping lower, dragging his tongue down his chin, licking up every last trace of you that lingered there. Jay let out a low groan, gripping Jake's wrist tightly as their mouths moved together

"Bedroom," Jake muttered against Jay's lips, breaking apart.

Jake lift you effortlessly into his arms. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist.

Over Jake's shoulder, you caught Jay's eyes still watching you like he was trying to figure out what to do with you.

Jake carefully lowered you onto the bed, his lips trailing down your jaw, peppering soft kisses along your throat, his hands firm as they spread your legs apart. But your attention drifted beyond him, straight to Jay, who was already pulling off his clothes impatiently, eyes never leaving the two of you.

The moment he was fully bare, Jake smirked, reaching for him again, pulling him down for another kiss.

You laid back against the pillows, legs still spread, your fingers instinctively trailing down your stomach, teasing along your sensitive folds, rubbing slow, lazy circles against your clit as you watched them.

"Come on, lay down," Jake murmured against Jay's lips before pulling away, pushing Jay onto the mattress.

The second Jay's back hit the bed, you and Jake exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between you.

Jay let out a sharp exhale as you swung your leg over him, straddling his thighs, your fingers trailing down the length of his cock. He twitched beneath your touch, eyes locked onto you.

You slowly rolled your hips forward, grinding against him, teasing the thick length of him against your folds, already dripping for him.

Jay groaned, hands instinctively moving to grip your waist—but before he could, Jake grabbed his wrists, pressing them down into the mattress.

"Hands off," Jake said, "you were too rough on her last time."

Jay gritted his teeth, glaring up at him. "No, I'm tired of playing whatever fucking game you two are—"

Jake cut him off by shoving his cock past his lips, silencing him instantly.

Jay's eyes widened, hands flying to Jake's hips, but Jake didn't budge, instead pushing himself deeper into Jay's mouth, letting out a breathy moan at the feeling of Jay's throat constricting around him.

"Fuck, yeah—" Jake groaned, his fingers tightening in Jay's hair.

Jay let out a muffled grunt, struggling against him, but you didn't give him a chance to resist further.

You sank down on him in one slow, deliberate motion.

A strangled noise tore from Jay's throat—half a groan, half a muffled curse—completely swallowed by Jake's cock still buried in his mouth.

Your head tipped back, your mouth falling open as the thick stretch of him filled you.

"Fuck!" you whimpered, hands on his abdomen for support. "Too big—"

Jay groaned beneath you, his hips twitching with the urge to thrust up, to take control—but Jake wasn't letting him. His hands remained firm on Jay's wrists, pinning them against his waist, making sure he stayed right where he was.

"You're so sexy, fuck," Jake murmured as he watched you struggle to take all of Jay. "So fucking full."

Your head tipped back, your lips parted, a whimper escaping you as you rocked your hips experimentally. Jay's cock twitched inside you, the thick stretch still bordering on painful—but the way he filled you, the way your walls clenched instinctively around him, made the burn feel so, so good.

Beneath you, Jay let out a frustrated growl, the vibrations from his throat sending jolts of pleasure straight through Jake's cock still buried between his lips. His nails dug deeper into Jake's hips, leaving crescent-shaped marks against his skin.

Jake hissed at the sensation, eyes darkening as he glanced down at him. "Getting impatient, baby?"

Jay glared up at him, unable to answer, his mouth still full. But the look he shot Jake was nothing short of a warning—one that promised payback the moment he got his hands free.

Jake smirked. "Too bad."

With that, he rolled his hips forward, pressing himself deeper into Jay's throat, making him gag slightly. At the same time, you shifted, rolling your hips again.

Jay's body tensed, his muffled groan vibrating around Jake's cock, making Jake shudder. "Fuck, that's it, baby," Jake rasped, "take it like a good boy."

You whimpered at the filthy sight in front of you—the way Jay's mouth stretched around Jake, the way his throat bobbed, the way his cock twitched inside you every time he moaned. It was too much.

Slowly, you move your hands on Jay's chest for balance, bracing yourself before you lifted your hips, only to slam them back down again.

Jay's reaction was instant. His whole body jerked, a choked noise escaping him.

You gasped at the feeling, the stretch, the way he filled you so completely.

Jake chuckled breathlessly. "Fuck, baby," he murmured, watching the way Jay's body tensed.

"He's losing his mind already."

You sighs, rolling your hips again, this time slower, dragging out the sensation.

"I don't think he's really sorry," you murmured, pouting down at him, fingers trailing over his chest.

Jake let out a low chuckle, his own hips rolling forward, forcing another muffled groan from Jay's throat. "You hear that, babe?" he mused. "You're being mean again."

Jay's eyes snapped up to you and when he tried to move, Jake tightened his grip on his wrists, keeping him in place.

"Be a good boy," Jake taunted, a wicked grin on his face. "Then maybe—just maybe—we'll let you fuck her the way you want to."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled around Jake's cock, the words muffled but there.

You shift your hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding down on him just to watch him squirm.

Jay let out a muffled curse, his whole body trembling beneath you. His tongue flicked desperately against Jake's cock, his throat tightening around him as he tried again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Jake cursed under his breath, looking down at Jay. His boyfriend's eyes were glossy, a tear slipping from the corner of one as he struggled to hold himself back.

"Fuck," Jake whispered, pulling away, his hand coming down to swipe the tear away with his thumb.

Jay exhaled sharply, his lips slick and swollen, his eyes burning into Jake's. "Please," he rasped, voice hoarse. His gaze flickered to you, "let me touch her already."

Jake was loving every second of this, watching Jay unravel, his pride stripped away. It reminded him of the first time they ever did this, when Jay had pretended he didn't want it, when he had fought it tooth and nail—until he couldn't anymore.

Until he was begging for it, just like this.

And God, Jake had missed it. Seeing Jay like this. Watching him break down, surrender to his own desires.

Jake smirked, letting go of his wrists. "Be gentle with her," he murmured, though the words carried no real weight. He knew Jay well enough to know he was barely capable of gentleness right now.

The moment his hands were free, Jay's fingers shot to your waist, gripping you tight. His breath shuddered as he finally felt you, the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the way your walls clenched down around him so perfectly.

"Fuck," he hissed, his head tipping back for just a second before his gaze snapped back to you. He gave your waist a slow, experimental roll, guiding you against him.

Jay groaned, his hands sliding from your waist down to your thighs, squeezing, spreading them wider. Then, with agonizing slowness, he moved upward again—over the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, up to your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers just enough to make you gasp.

Anticipation crawling down your spine as his touch moved higher, his fingers brushing against your throat. Your eyes widened, breath stammering at what he was about to do—

But then he sat up, his grip shifting, his lips ghosting over your collarbone before trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

The unexpected gentleness made your chest tighten. This wasn't the rough, punishing Jay you thought he would be.

"That's what she likes," Jake muttered. He had positioned himself beside you, stroking himself lazily as he watched the way your body arched against Jay's, completely entranced by the sight.

Jay's hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he rolled his hips upward, sinking deeper into your heat. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, your body instinctively adjusting, your back curving as your hands braced against his knees.

Jay groaned at the way you clenched around him, his fingers tightening against your waist, but he let you move at your own pace, letting you take what you needed.

"Ahhh, fuck!" you moaned, tilting your head back, surrendering to the feeling.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath beside you, his hand moving faster, grip tightening as he struggled to keep control. He had been holding back, savoring the view—watching the way Jay stretched you open.

But the moment he saw it. The outline of Jay's cock pressing against your stomach, the proof of just how deep he was inside you.

Jake's breath hitched, his restraint snapping instantly. His body tensed, muscles locking as a deep, guttural moan ripped from his throat. His release hit hard, ropes of hot cum streaking across your chest, trailing up to your throat. A few stray drops landed on your lips, warm and sticky.

"Goddamn it," Jake groaned, hating the sudden force of his release.

Jay exhaled sharply as he fought the urge to flip you over and take control. Instead, he leaned in, his tongue darting out to lap up the mess Jake had made on your skin. Wet strokes traced from your chest up to your chin.

A moan slipped past your lips as the sensation made your hips grind down harder, each movement pressing Jay deeper inside you, the head of his cock brushing dangerously close to your cervix.

Your fingers threaded through his hair as he kissed you, swallowing the gasp that escaped when his tongue slipped past your parted lips. He groaned into your mouth, his grip tightening on your waist.

Jay was grateful you weren't much of a talker because if you so much as whispered something filthy in his ear, he'd lose it right then and there. But the way you gasped? The breathy little whimpers spilling past your lips? Fuck, that wasn't helping either.

A low whine came from behind you, and then Jake pressed himself against your back, refusing to be left out. His warm breath fanned against your ear as he reached around, one hand claiming your breast, kneading. The other hand trailed lower, brushing over your clit.

"W-wait—too much," you panted, pulling back slightly, your hands weakly pressing against their chests. Jay barely let you go, his lips chasing yours as if he couldn't stand the distance.

Jake hushed you, pressing a lingering kiss against the side of your face. "Just one more, baby," he pleaded. His forehead rested against yours, his moans intertwining with yours as he watched Jay's expression shift—his brows knitting, jaw clenched, eyes fluttering shut as he snapped his hips up, hitting deeper, harder.

Your head tipped back with a cry, thighs trembling as the pleasure became a bit much.

"Just one more," Jake whispered again, his fingers working your clit in slow, teasing circles. "I know you can take it." 

"Fuck, I can't! I can't!" You shook your head wildly, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks. It was too much, too intense. You don't really know if you can handle another one again.

But your helpless cries only seemed to spur them on.

Jake groaned,  his hand tightening around your breast. "You're crying again," he murmured, more to himself. "So fucking pretty."

Jay's breath hitched beneath you, his grip bruising against your waist. "Jake, keep doing that—I'm gonna cum," he gritted out.

You could barely move anymore. Your body was trembling violently, you continue to shake your head, wanting to get up and take a break but Jake didn't let up, his fingers relentless, rubbing tight circles against your swollen clit. 

"You're taking it so well, baby," he praised. "Come on—let go again for us."

Your vision blurred, your breath caught in your throat as a scream tore from your lips. Your body convulsed, an electric shock of ecstasy tearing through every nerve ending. Your walls clenched around Jay, milking him, you didn't know orgasm could be this good. and the feeling make him lose his mind.

"Shit—fuck!" Jay's hips stuttered, his body tensing beneath you as he continue to thrust up, spilling deep inside you with a rough groan.

His fingers dug into your flesh, holding you flush against him, making sure you took every last drop.

The overstimulation sent you spiraling again, a second orgasm ripping through you, a broken sob leaving your lips as you soaked his stomach.

Jake moaned, his own hand stroking himself, eyes locked on the way your body twitched helplessly.

Jay let out a heavy breath, his head dropping back against the pillows, chest heaving. His fingers traced the curve of your spine absentmindedly. You collapsed against him, legs still shaking, your mind floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion.

Jake's hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you away from Jay's warmth. You whimpered, your body too spent to resist. 

"Please," Jake murmured against your skin, lips pressing gentle kisses down your back, "one more, okay? It'll be fast, I promise."

A shaky sob left your lips. Your body was marked, every inch of your skin imprinted with their touch—bruised fingers on your hips, deep red marks across your thighs. 

You were sore, completely and utterly spent. You whisper a small "okay", praying to be done already.

Jake groaned in approval, tilting your hips up. His fingers spread over the swell of your ass, cursing under his breath as he watched Jay's cum drip from your hole.

"Holy shit," he exhaled, running his thumb through the mess before pressing it inside, watching it disappear into your heat. Your entire body twitched, another weak whine slipping past your lips.

Jay let out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. He didn't think it was possible for him to be hard again so soon, but watching you collapse under Jake's touch—watching his own release spill from you, slicking up Jake's length as he slowly pressed inside—had his cock twitching to life.

"Oh my God," Jake groaned, sinking in inch by inch. The glide was effortless, Jay's cum making it easier for him to push into your overstimulated body. You were shaking beneath him, your fingers curling desperately into the bedsheets.

Jay shifted beside you, he propped himself up, watching as Jake started to move. His hand trailed down his own stomach, fingers wrapping around himself, already hard again.

Jake's rhythm grew faster, his nails digging into your waist as he slammed himself deeper, watching more of Jay's release spill down into your thigh with every thrust, no space available inside. 

"F-fuck, so hot." he stuttered, his voice breaking into a whine. His jaw clenched as he watched the obscene way his cock disappeared inside you.

Jay grip your chin, tilting your head towards him. Your tongue lolled slightly, your breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Jay cursed under his breath at the sight, his strokes growing rougher on himself.

Jake let out a strangled moan. His pace turned erratic, hips snapping against yours desperately as he buried himself deep one last time, spilling inside you with a low, drawn-out groan.

"I can't! S-Stop!" You broke. Another pleasure hitting you in waves so intense it stole the breath from your lungs. Your back arched as your walls clenched down on Jake, milking every last drop from him. 

Your eyes rolled back, lips parting in a silent cry.

Jay let out a sharp breath, the image of you alone pushing him over the edge. His release spilling hot and messy across your face, dripping down your chin, pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Jake slumped forward against you, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, still catching his breath. Jay breathe, hand lazily brushing against your cheek, smearing the mess across your skin.

"Perfect," Jay muttered.

Jake hummed in agreement, shifting slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. "You did so good, hmm?" His voice was soft, full of warmth.

Your limbs were too heavy, your body sinking into the mattress. A weak whimper left your lips as you nuzzled deeper into the sheets, seeking warmth, comfort.

And just like the last time—you passed out.

Jake was the first to notice, lifting his head slightly to glance down at you. His lips curled into a tired smile before he carefully shifted, pulling out of you as gently as he could. You whimpered in protest at the loss, but Jay's hands were already smoothing over your skin, grounding you.

"She's out," Jake murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

Jay huffed, stretching his arms before moving. "Come on, let's get her cleaned up."

Between the two of them, they carried you to the bathroom, handling your limp body with surprising gentleness. The warm water cascaded down your skin, Jake chuckled when your head lolled against Jay's shoulder, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"She sleeps like a baby," Jake mused, reaching for a washcloth.

Jay, who was carefully holding you upright, rolled his eyes. "No shit. You wore her out."

Jake only laughed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before rinsing you off.

Once you were clean and dry, Jay carried you back to bed while Jake changed the sheets, replacing them with fresh ones. He pulled the blanket over your bare body, making sure you were warm before slipping in beside you.

This time, you didn't wake up alone. 

Your eyes fluttered open. The first thing you noticed was warmth. A solid weight pressed against you from both sides.

Jake's arm was draped over your shoulder, pulling you flush against his chest. His face was nestled against your hair, his breath slow and deep as he snored softly.

Another hand rested against your waist, fingers barely curled against your skin. Blinking sluggishly, you tilted your head slightly, your heart stammering at the sight behind you. 

Jay was there—his body pressed firmly against your back, his face relaxed in a way you'd never seen before. No furrowed brows, no tight-lipped frown. Just stillness. The quiet rise and fall of his chest against you.

His grip on your waist was loose, as if he had reached for you in his sleep without thinking.

A small, unexpected smile tugged at your lips. You let your eyes flutter shut again, exhaling softly. This time, as sleep pulled you under, you let yourself sink into their warmth.

Sunoo eyed you suspiciously as he pulled out a chair beside you, dropping two plastic bottles onto the table with a dull thud.

"Good mood?" he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You stretched your arms, a slow smile spreading across your lips. "Yeah, got the best sleep of my life."

Jay, who had just settled his laptop and books on the table, barely spared you a glance.

Sunoo hummed. "You said we were gonna hit the café today. What about later?"

Before you could answer, Jay cut in without looking up. "We're starting chapter four."

Sunoo blinked at him in disbelief. "What the fuck? Give me some slack! We'll do our part, just let us relax for once."

You laughed at his whining, your gaze flickering to Jay for a brief moment before reaching for one of the bottles. You twisted the cap, but it barely budged.

"God, do not buy this brand again," you groaned, straining against the stubborn lid. "It's impossible to open."

Sunoo grunted in agreement, grabbing his own bottle to try, only to meet the same struggle. "Shit, seriously. What is this? Childproof or some shit?"

Before either of you could complain further, Jay reached out, taking the bottle from your hands without a word. Effortlessly, he twisted the cap open and set it back down in front of you.

Your fingers twitched slightly, the unexpected gesture catching you off guard. Sunoo, mid-sulk, blinked at Jay in mild shock.

Jay, noticing the stare, let out a quiet sigh before grabbing Sunoo's bottle too. He twisted it open just as easily and placed it in front of him. 

"You’re welcome," Jay muttered, already flipping open his laptop. Sunoo stared at the bottle, then at you, then back at Jay like he had just witnessed a supernatural event.

"Jake will be here in an hour," Jay continued, completely unbothered. "We can go to the café you wanted after we start working on the results and findings."

Sunoo’s mouth dropped open slightly, his brain short-circuiting. But instead of responding, he reached under the table and pinched your arm—hard.

You flinched, glaring at him. "Ow! What the hell?" you hissed.

But Sunoo was too busy silently squealing, his eyes wide with barely contained excitement as he watched Jay sit down, fully immersed in your research.

"Wow! You’re in a good mood too!" Sunoo blurted out, his voice slightly high-pitched with suppressed glee.

Jay didn’t even look up. "No, I just want to get this over with."

Sunoo shot you a pointed look, wiggling his brows. but you ignored him, focusing on your screen.

The three of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, typing away, until the familiar sound of footsteps approached. Before you could react, Jake appeared behind you, nuzzling his cheek against yours with a content hum.

"Missed me?" he teased, before pulling back to press a quick kiss on Jay’s temple, his arms sneaking around his boyfriend’s waist.

Sunoo wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, can you two not?"

Jake only grinned, unbothered, before turning his attention back to you. "So, café time?"

You perked up, excitement buzzing through you. "Yes! I’ve been waiting all day to try that matcha-strawberry drink."

Sunoo clapped his hands together. "Finally, a reward for my suffering!"

Without hesitation, you pushed back your chair and stood up, eager to leave. Jake and Sunoo flanked you immediately, chatting animatedly about the menu, already making plans to order half the pastries just to "test them out properly."

As the three of you made your way down the hallway, you couldn’t help but peek over your shoulder.

Jay was trailing behind as usual, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder, his pace slower.

Without thinking, you pulled away from Sunoo and Jake, slowing your steps until you were beside him. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around his, tugging him forward. 

"Come on, walk faster. We're starving for sweets already," you whispered, your voice light and teasing.

Jay stiffened for a second, his eyes flicking down to where you held onto him. But then, his shoulders relaxed, and to your surprise, the corner of his lips quirked up in the faintest half-smile.

Jake, watching the scene unfold, let out a small, pleased hum. His lips curled in amusement before he smoothly moved to Jay’s other side, slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

Sunoo, who had been watching with wide eyes, suddenly grinned. "Well, well, well," he muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying whatever was happening. Then, without hesitation, he threw himself onto your other side, dramatically resting his head against your shoulder.

The four of you continued walking, your steps now in sync, voices mixing together in overlapping conversation.

As you walked, still nestled against Jay’s side, you squinted at Jake, who was already watching you with mischief in his eyes.

Jake stuck his tongue out playfully, then made a ridiculous face, his brows wiggling as he tried to get a reaction out of you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the small smile creeping onto your lips.

Jay, stuck in the middle, let out a grunt, clearly unimpressed. "Do you two ever stop?" he muttered. 

Jake only grinned wider. "Nope."

Jay huffed, but his attention flickered to you again. He watched the way your eyes softened whenever you looked at Jake, the way your laughter was bright, effortless.

He had convinced himself that his irritation, his short fuse around you, was justified. That pushing you away, acting indifferent, was the only way to keep things from spiraling out of control. But now, walking beside you, his arm still loosely wrapped around your frame, he felt something shift.

Jay didn’t feel that usual, biting irritation clawing at his chest and more importantly—he wasn’t so sour about it.

[sixosix]

religion's in your lips

third year to timeskip!hinata x fem!reader, a tad suggestive

It’s Shoyo’s fault.

You don’t join Shoyo’s outings often; most of them are volleyball-related anyway, and you didn’t want to get in the way. But right now, it’s just the third years, and Shoyo had begged so sweetly with round eyes that you would be cruel to even think about denying him.

Kageyama sits on your other side, stiff and polite, jostled here and there by Shoyo pressing up against you. Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi sit on the other side of the table. Conversation is light and comfortable. They don’t exclude you even when talking about practice matches and lineups—Yamaguchi asks you about your own club ever so often, too.

Yamaguchi claps his hand, forcing everyone’s attention on him. Except Shoyo, who’s busy tracing stars on your hand. “Do you guys want to watch a movie this weekend? I heard they’re releasing a sequel of the one we watched back in first year.”

Yachi emits a wordless sound of excitement, easily agreeing. Kageyama and Tsukishima begrudgingly agree at the same time, then sneer at each other. Then they all turn to you and Shoyo.

Shoyo grins. “Sorry, I got plans already.”

“You get a girlfriend, and suddenly you forget about us,” Yamaguchi mourns. Shoyo laughs while you get flustered and assure them that you’re not keeping your boyfriend hostage. Kageyama says that they know Hinata is the one doing it.

“You’re going to watch our match next week, though, right?” Shoyo asks you in a low whisper, as the other three dutifully settle in their own world.

“You don’t even need to ask, Shoyo,” you tell him. “Of course.”

Shoyo’s eyes brighten impossibly, face split into a grin. He looks like he wants to push you down onto the floor to kiss you in front of his friends, but he doesn’t. You knew he wouldn’t.

It’s Shoyo’s fault.

Really. Seriously this time. Specifically, Hinata Shoyo from third year. He’s changed from first year, gained more confidence, but he’s still shy and soft-spoken with you, which you expected from someone as sweet as him. It set your expectations for him and what your relationship would look like in the years and years that you’ll spend with him: bearing that first love kind of shyness.

It takes about two years to prove you wrong.

When Shoyo came back from Brazil, the first thing he did was kiss you breathless in front of everyone in the airport.

His strong arms around your waist, pulling you up—which you had to think ‘thank God’ for because your knees have definitely buckled. You don’t think too much about it, because he’s been gone for two years—two!!—and you’ve missed each other too much.

But when Hinata’s mouth descends to your jaw, you have to push him by the chest and exclaim (albeit weakly), “Shoyo—there are still people behind us!”

Shoyo blinks and pulls off, his eyes fogged over with heat that makes you have to look away, having to remind yourself that you’re in public and you do not want to beg for him to continue. Thankfully, his friends yelling his name seems to have snapped him out of it.

But his palm never left your side, splayed over your hip like a mark.

It gets worse at his homecoming party thrown by his teammates back at Karasuno. You’re familiar with them, and they’re familiar with you, so of course, it wasn’t a problem when Shoyo was pulled away to greet everyone. You made friendly conversation with Sugawara-san, caught up with Nishinoya, and joked around all night with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima.

“You called each other every night?” Yamaguchi’s brows have shot up all the way to his hairline.

You smile. “I mean—isn’t it normal for people in a relationship?”

Tsukishima shrugs. “Hinata loves you as much as he loves volleyball, I’m not surprised.”

Yamaguchi considers it. “Hmm, I guess.”

“Hinata’s waiting for you,” Kageyama mutters from behind you, appearing out of nowhere. His brows are stitched together, and his mouth is pulled in his ever-permanent Kageyama pout. “His staring is pissing me off. Can you go get him?”

“He’s not a dog, Tobio,” you chide lightly but grin all the same when you turn to your side and see Hinata Shoyo’s eyes drilling holes into your head.

He’s not mouthing anything. Shoyo stays seated on the loveseat, looking entirely isolated from the crowd around him. His eyes say it all: come here.

Helpless to his whims, you obey.

“Shoyo,” you murmur as soon as you reach him.

He pulls you to his lap. “Baby.”

You freeze. He’s never called you that before—his expression isn’t shy at all, too, just expectant. Heat crawls down your body as he tugs your back to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. Shoyo’s own warmth is a burning sensation. You feel lightheaded.

“Ah—well, um.” You pinch your arm. “Are you feeling okay? Did you drink?”

“There’s no alcohol here.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw Sugawara-san holding a bottle.”

“Ah, well. Sugawara-san.”

You understand. What you don’t understand is what happened in those two years to have Shoyo’s hand crawling on your thigh, a scorching mark on only that part of your skin. To have Shoyo’s breath on the nape of your neck without him flushing and flinching away. To have Shoyo have this air of confidence around him that’s usually in volleyball suddenly translate to you.

“Did you miss me this much?”

“You have no idea, don’t you?” The implications are clear: I could show you how much, if you want.

Still, this development is very sudden. You squirm on his lap, but Shoyo doesn’t relent. He keeps you there, a puddle in his hands. Nobody is watching—or maybe they’re just being respectful, but you feel flustered facing this side of Shoyo in public.

“Shoyo,” you warn. “Not here.”

It’s Heitor’s fault.

Ever since Hinata had met Heitor and Nice and witnessed how unapologetically intimate they were with each other, Hinata became envious. He wanted that, too. He wanted that with you.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” Heitor asked when Hinata lamented to him.

Hinata made a pitiful noise, like a deflating balloon. “I don’t know. I think she just thinks I’m too cute to take that seriously.”

Heitor laughs. “Shoyo. Trust me. You’ll drive your girl crazy if you’re confident with it.”

It’s Heitor’s fault, and Hinata is eternally grateful for it, seeing your wide-eyed face beneath him like this. He loves it when he surprises people, but yours might be a different kind of thrill that he’s already addicted to.

[hazelira]

wrapped around tiny fingers

The shopping mall was buzzing with life—bright lights, lively chatter, and the soft hum of music playing in the background. But none of it was as sweet as the giggles of your twin baby girls, nestled comfortably in their stroller as their father, Heeseung, pushed them along with the proudest, most adoring look on his face.

Your daughters, two tiny, pudgy bundles of joy, had their father wrapped so tightly around their little fingers that they might as well have been the rulers of his world. And in a way, they were.

"Hee, we should probably set a limit," you murmured, watching with amusement as Heeseung stopped for the third time that hour, lifting one of the twins out of the stroller because she had pointed—yes, just pointed—at a fluffy pink teddy bear displayed in a store window.

"But look at them, baby," Heeseung whispered dramatically, holding your daughter up as if she were a tiny queen and the bear was a grand prize. "They want it. Look at those big, round eyes. Are you gonna say no to those eyes?"

You crossed your arms. "They just learned how to point last month. They point at everything."

"Exactly! That means they want everything." Heeseung grinned, already stepping into the store, the baby babbling excitedly in his arms. The other twin, still in the stroller, waved her chubby fists, envious of her sister's adventure.

Within minutes, the pink teddy bear and a matching blue one were securely in your shopping cart because, according to Heeseung, "it’s only fair."

"Should we just buy the whole mall while we’re at it?" you teased, watching as he held one of the babies on his hip, letting her poke at a set of sparkly shoes.

Heeseung turned to you with the most serious look. "If that’s what my little princesses want, then yes."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling. Seeing him like this—so soft, so entirely in love with the tiny humans you had created together—made your heart melt.

After about an hour of shopping (and accumulating more baby clothes, plushies, and even a light-up toy piano), the girls started rubbing their sleepy eyes, their excitement finally winding down.

Heeseung, ever the doting father, immediately scooped them both up, one in each arm, swaying them gently as he kissed their soft cheeks. "You two had such a big day, huh?" he cooed, his voice dripping with love.

You adjusted the stroller's straps, shaking your head at the ridiculous bags Heeseung had insisted on carrying for his princesses.

"They're gonna be so spoiled," you murmured, kissing his cheek softly as the twins snuggled against his shoulders.

Heeseung only chuckled, rocking the babies gently. "That’s the plan, babe. That’s the plan."

When you returned to the car, the twins were nestled comfortably against Heeseung’s chest; their tiny faces smushed into his hoodie as soft little breaths escaped their lips. They had tired themselves after a long afternoon of getting everything they pointed at—because their daddy was weak for them.

You opened the trunk, shaking your head at the ridiculous number of shopping bags inside. “You do realize they won’t even remember half of these toys by tomorrow, right?”

Heeseung, still cradling both girls in his arms like they were made of glass, grinned. “That’s fine. I’ll buy them new ones.”

You playfully smacked his arm. “Lee Heeseung.”

“Y/N,” he mimicked in the same tone, flashing that boyish smile that made you fall for him in the first place. “What? Am I not supposed to spoil them?”

You sighed but couldn’t hold back your laughter. “You are, but maybe not this much. They don’t even know a price tag yet, and you’re already setting them up for luxury living.”

Heeseung carefully maneuvered the twins into their car seats, ensuring they were all snug before pressing a lingering kiss to each of their foreheads. “They’re my babies. They deserve the world.”

Your heart melted at the sight. No matter how often you saw him with them, it never got old. Heeseung, the same man who once panicked because he couldn’t figure out how to change a diaper, had become the softest, most devoted dad ever.

As he shut the door and turned to you, he sighed dramatically. “You know, I used to be cool.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Used to?”

“Yes,” he nodded, crossing his arms. “I had swag. I was mysterious, effortlessly handsome—”

“You still think you’re mysterious? By the way, Hee, Cool people don't say they're cool...” You laughed, leaning against the car.

Heeseung groaned. “Babe, I was the heartthrob. And now? Now I’m out here carrying tiny pink teddy bears and wearing baby drool like a badge of honour.” He tugged on the slightly damp spot on his hoodie that one of the twins had snuggled into earlier.

You reached up, brushing a hand through his hair. “You’re still cool, Hee. Just in a different way. A dad way.”

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he smirked. “Oh yeah? And you like this dad version of me?”

You pretended to think for a moment before grinning. “Very much.”

Heeseung chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because I love being this version of me—with you and our little princesses.”

The moment was perfect, sweet and quiet under the setting sun. Until—

“Da-da!!”

A tiny voices from inside the car made Heeseung freeze. Then, a second later—

“Dada!!”

Both girls were suddenly wide awake, reaching out their arms from their car seats, eyes shining with excitement as they called for their favourite person.

You barely had time to react before Heeseung was yanking the car door open again. “My babies!” he gasped, lifting them both into his arms despite your protests about bedtime. “Did you miss me already? Daddy’s right here!”

They squealed in delight, chubby hands grabbing his cheeks to ensure he was real.

You sighed, amused. “Hee, we’re literally about to go home. You were holding them a minute ago.”

But he wasn’t listening. He was too busy smothering their faces in kisses, making them giggle uncontrollably.

As you watched your husband twirl your twin girls around like they were the most precious treasures in the world, you knew one thing for sure—

Heeseung was utterly, hopelessly wrapped around their tiny little fingers. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

requested by: @intellectual6666

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