#Under the Lights: Opposites Attract | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helioooss · 22 days ago

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normalcy

synopsis: after getting fired from your job, you somehow set yourself up to become the personal bodyguard of asia’s it girl; minatozaki sana. the contract said 6 months…but they do say opposites attract…right?

w/c: 7k+

warnings: fluff, kissing, minor violent scene with injuries involved, etc. etc. like always, read at your own risk

a/n: honestly? i really enjoyed writing this but ive read it so many times that i just want it off my drafts

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sharp glow of the gym lights flickered, illuminating the worn pages of ‘the trial’ by kafka. you closed the book with a sigh, feeling the weight of your plight settle into your thoughts. reading was slowly becoming your balm, your silent rebellion against the monotony of life.

today, though, was worst than routine. today was about fists and consequences.

it was meant to be another uneventful shift, the kind you’d become numb to over the months — wiping down benches, checking in with regulars, occasionally offering form corrections to those who were willing to listen. your black work polo, embroidered with the gym’s logo, was slightly faded from too many washes and the familiar scent of rubber flooring and sweat clung to the air.

you knew the place inside out, even if you never quite felt at home here.

as you heaved another sigh at the reception desk, you noticed a commotion near the squat racks. a woman in leggings and a loose tank top stood, flustered, her face a mix of anger and embarrassment.

across from her, a man had his phone angled at an obvious tilt, his thumb suspiciously poised over the screen.

“is there a problem?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even as you approached. you were used to minor disputes, arguments over who got the next set, someone hogging the water fountain; but this was different.

the woman’s eyes darted to you, desperate. “he’s taking pictures of me,” she said, her voice low but urgent. “without my permission.”

“oh, come on,” the man scoffed, tucking his phone into his pocket. he was the type you’d seen too many times — overconfident, built just enough to look intimidating, but his demeanor screamed entitlement. “it’s a public space. besides, you should be flattered.”

you clenched your jaw. you weren’t particularly confrontational, but something snapped inside you at the casual dismissal. maybe it was the way the woman seemed to shrink under his gaze, or perhaps it was the months of barely restrained frustration you’d been bottling up.

“delete the photos,” you demanded, stepping closer.

he smirked, a slow, mocking curl of his lips. “or what?”

you weren’t sure when your fist clenched or when you decided that words wouldn’t be enough. all you remembered was the flash of anger, the way your knuckles collided with his jaw and the shock on his face as he staggered back.

the gym fell silent, all eyes on you.

“what the hell?” he shouted, clutching his face as he sat up on the floor.

you felt a pang of panic, but it was drowned out by a strange sense of satisfaction. “don’t do that ever again.”

the woman mouthed a silent “thank you,” but the damage was done. within minutes, your manager, kyle, a man who was perpetually stressed and underpaid, was rushing over and pulled you aside.

“you can’t just hit customers, y/n,” he said, his voice barely masking his disbelief.

“he was taking photos of her without consent,” you insisted, still shaking with adrenaline.

“i get that, he’ll be banned and a police report will be made, but we have procedures,” he insisted, rubbing his temples. “this isn’t how we handle things.”

“so what? we just let guys like him get away with it?” you shot back, already knowing how this conversation would end. “fucking unreal.”

“he’s already threatening to sue if i don’t fire you,” he answered, with a sigh. “i’m letting you go, effective immediately. i’ll have your final check ready tomorrow.”

“yeah alright,” you clenched your jaw, turning to pick up the rest of your things off the desk. “i hope all of you pricks who just stood by and watched this woman get assaulted never have daughters!”

when you left the gym, you had your head held high, but by the time you reached your shared apartment…reality hit hard. you were unemployed, with bills stacking up and a sense of failure settling in the pit of your stomach.

jeongyeon and dahyun, your housemates, were already home; slumped on the couch after a long day of security work.

you all met in university and from then on, you’d been stuck together. of course, the degrees you had didn’t line up with your careers now, nonetheless, you were all happy.

you think.

jeongyeon had a beer in hand, while dahyun was half-asleep, scrolling through her phone.

“hey,” you said quietly, dropping your bag by the door before shutting the door behind you.

“rough day?” jeongyeon asked, looking you up and down; hair disheveled and a huge rbf plastered on your face. she had a way of reading your mood with unnerving accuracy.

“i got fired,” you admitted with a heavy sigh, flopping onto the armchair as you ran your fingers through your hair.

dahyun perked up, suddenly alive. “no way,” she added, nearly falling over her own alertness. “what happened?”

you recounted the whole story; the boring shift, the spoiled boxers in the showers and the creep —each detail bringing a mix of disbelief and amusement to their faces.

“that sounds like a bitch of a day, but you punched him?” jeongyeon asked, eyes wide. “damn, y/n. i mean, that’s kind of badass, but also not great.”

“i know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “but he deserved it.”

“well, it’s not like you were planning to stay there forever,” dahyun offered, trying to sound optimistic. “but we should find you something soon. rent’s due soon.”

“hmm,” you frowned, thinking about all the bills you had to catch up on. soon enough, you wouldn’t be able to afford a bottle of soju. “yeah, that was really impulsive of me.”

jeongyeon’s face lit up suddenly. “actually, i might have something. it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s really decent money.”

you raised an eyebrow. “what is it?”

“a security job,” she explained. “it’s temporary, six months. i was supposed to take it, but i just got offered a permanent managerial role at my current gig, so i can’t do both.”

“what’s the catch?” you asked, sensing a hesitation in her voice. “i know you’d be taking it if it was really good money.”

“it’s not a typical security job,” jeongyeon admitted. “you’d be a personal bodyguard, and i can’t do that shit, y’know? the background check is really tedious but i’d do it for the money.”

“okay, shut up,” dahyun leaned forward, intrigued. “who is this for?”

“minatozaki sana,” jeongyeon said, her tone dropping to a whisper, as if saying the name too loudly would summon the heiress herself.

you blinked, unsure if you heard correctly. “wait…the minatozaki sana? heiress sana?”

“yep,” jeongyeon confirmed, taking a sip of her beer. “the nepo baby herself. her old guard retired, and they need a temporary bodyguard ‘cause she can’t keep one for more than a year. i know it sounds crazy, but the pay is amazing, and it’s only for six months.”

the minatozaki family was a powerful family in asia; they had their names on everything — from the phones you use to the planes that you ride. they were the definition of old money; an empire of wealth and influence that seemed to operate on a different form of existence.

“you’re talking about the same sana who’s always on magazine covers, right?” dahyun added, her eyes wide with disbelief. “the one who throws tantrums over the wrong brand of mineral water?”

“and insists on separate dishes for every meal course,” jeongyeon nodded. “yeah, that’s her.”

you felt a mix of intrigue and apprehension. you’d read about sana in passing, her life a blur of extravagant parties, expensive vacations, and notorious diva behavior. she was everything you weren’t: loud, glamorous, and perpetually in the spotlight.

meanwhile, you preferred the quiet solace of modest living, your life small but safe.

“are you sure about this?” you asked, trying to gauge jeongyeon’s seriousness. “are you going to refer me instead?”

“as sure as i can be,” she replied. “i mean, it’s not ideal, but it’s a job. and who knows? maybe it won’t be as bad as it sounds, plus, they would probably want someone like you.”

“or maybe she’ll drive you insane within a week,” dahyun said, half-joking. “either way, it’ll make for some interesting stories.”

the weight of your decision was pressing down on you. you were hesitant, but with rent looming and no other prospects, you found yourself nodding. “okay. i’ll do it. for six months, that’s it.”

jeongyeon pursed her lips, nodding along. “six months and that’s it.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the minatozaki mansion loomed ahead, all marble pillars and glass windows, like something out of a luxury real estate magazine.

as you slowly walked up the driveway, a sense of unease settled in.

this was a world you’d never been a part of, and you felt distinctly out of place in your borrowed suit, the fabric slightly too stiff, the collar too tight.

“miss minatozaki awaits you,” a uniformed maid opened the door and led you through a maze of hallways, each more opulent than the last. no one seemed interested in talking to each other - their heads kept low.

finally, you were brought to a sunlit lounge, where minatozaki sana herself lounged on an oversized chaise, scrolling through her phone. she looked up as you entered, her expression one of bored curiosity.

“so, you’re the new bodyguard?” she asked, voice lilting and slightly mocking. her accent was a blend of japanese and english, perfectly polished.

“yes, ma’am,” you replied stiffly, feeling the heat of her gaze.

she waved a hand dismissively. “don’t call me that. it makes me sound old.”

“then…miss minatozaki?” you tried, unsure of the protocol.

“absolutely not,” she shook her head in disapproval.

“sana?”

“better,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips, but it wasn’t a kind smile; it was more like the satisfied grin of someone who had won an unspoken game.

as you stood there, you couldn’t help but think back to dahyun’s words. maybe she would drive you insane within a week. or maybe, you’d find a way to navigate this strange new world.

the first week was a whirlwind of adjustments — both to the demands of the job and the peculiarities of sana.

as it turned out, being the bodyguard to asia’s most notorious nepo baby wasn’t just about keeping her physically safe. it was about managing her whims, tolerating her tantrums, and, on occasion, playing peacekeeper between her and whoever happened to be on her bad side that day.

it hasn’t even been long and you were already learning the hard way that her life was filled with chaos — both the glamorous and the outright ridiculous kind. today’s chaos revolved around a botched spa appointment.

you were in the staff room, sipping a much-needed coffee, when hana, one of the housemaids, burst in — looking panicked.

“y/n, we need you!” she exclaimed, almost out of breath.

you set down your cup, already feeling a headache coming on. “what’s going on?”

“sana,” she said urgently. “the spa messed up her facial treatment, and she’s…not taking it well.”

you hurried to the spa room in the mansion, where the unmistakable sound of sana’s angry voice could be heard before you even reached the door.

“are you fucking kidding me?” she was already shouting at the terrified spa technician. “this is not the organic serum i use! how could you get it wrong?”

“i’m so sorry, miss minatozaki,” the technician stammered, looking like she wanted to disappear. “there must have been a mix-up —”

“no excuses!” she snapped, her face flushed with anger. “i demand to speak to the manager who set this appointment up!”

you stepped in quickly, your presence catching sana’s attention. “hey, what’s going on?”

“what’s going on?” she repeated, her voice sharp as she turned to you. “they used the wrong serum on my face, y/n! do you know what that means?”

“i understand,” you said calmly, moving between her and the trembling technician. “but let’s not make a scene. i’m sure we can fix this.”

“fix this?” she scoffed, crossing her arms dramatically. “my skin is everything! this could ruin my whole week.”

“it won’t,” you reassured her. “let’s have them redo it properly with the correct serum. no harm done.”

she glared at you for a moment, the silence deafening, as if deciding whether to keep throwing a fit or let you handle it.

finally, she sighed dramatically, waving her hand dismissively. “fine, but this better not happen again.”

the staff let out a collective sigh of relief as you guided sana back to the treatment chair, your calm presence diffusing the tension.

as you turned towards the door to give her privacy, you heard her huff, making you look back at her. “what’s the matter now?”

“where are you going?” she crossed her legs, leaning against the chair. “stay.”

you pursed your lips. “can i get my coffee at least?”

she shook her head and your jaw nearly dropped in disbelief. “i’ll order us one.”

later, as you both left the spa room, she turned to you with a small, begrudging smile. “you’re not bad at calming me down, you know.”

“just doing my job,” you replied, but there was a hint of amusement in your voice.

you were used to keeping a low profile, slipping in and out of situations unnoticed. however, in sana’s world, invisibility wasn’t an option. you were always under scrutiny, whether from sana herself, her overbearing manager, or the hovering entourage of stylists, assistants, and PR personnel.

on the surface, she was everything you expected her to be. she was loud, glamorous, and seemed to find amusement in the smallest inconveniences.

one afternoon, while being driven to a photoshoot, sana’s driver took a wrong turn. she rolled her eyes dramatically, sighed, and declared it to be “the worst day of her life.”

“i’ve had worst,” you sat quietly in the front seat, staring out the window. you had lived through truly bad days; the kind that left lasting imprints on your mind. this wasn’t one of them.

for her, you guessed, the scale was different. the world revolved around her, bending to her every demand and adjusting to her moods.

“what’s your problem?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. her eyes narrowed, a challenge in them.

you blinked, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”

“you’re too quiet most of the time,” she said, as if it were a flaw. “it’s creepy.”

you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but you kept your composure. “i’m here to do my job, not to entertain you.”

“boring,” she replied, drawing out the word. “but at least you’re not as fake as the last one.”

not knowing how to respond to that, you simply let the conversation die out. this, you realised, was part of the game: sana testing boundaries, seeing how far she could push before you pushed back.

she was used to getting reactions, usually adoration or frustration — your indifference seemed to both confuse and intrigue her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the end of week three, the initial awkwardness had given way to a strange kind of rhythm. you followed her to meetings, fashion shows and charity galas, always a step behind, always alert.

it was a bright monday morning and the mansion staff was already bustling to get sana’s breakfast ready. everything was going smoothly until someone made the unforgivable mistake of serving the wrong brand of mineral water.

“this isn’t evian!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the dining hall. she stared at the glass of water as if it were an insult. “who drinks this brand?”

the staff exchanged nervous glances, unsure of how to handle the sudden outburst. within moments, one of the maids, jisoo, hurried to find you.

“y/n-ssi, sana needs you in the dining room,” she said urgently.

“what’s it this time?” you asked, already half-knowing the answer.

“the wrong water brand,” she replied apologetically, bowing her head down.

you sighed but made your way to the dining room, where sana was sitting with her arms crossed, her breakfast untouched.

“what’s the problem?” you asked gently, keeping your tone steady.

“the problem,” she said with exaggerated patience, “is that they gave me the wrong water. how many times do i have to tell them that i only drink evian?”

“i’ll get them to bring the right one,” you said, trying not to smile at the absurdity. “just try to eat something in the meantime.”

she looked at you, her eyes narrowing. “you think this is funny?”

“a little,” you admitted. “but i get it. i wouldn’t want to drink bad water either.”

her lips twitched, as if she wanted to smile but was still too annoyed. “you’re impossible.”

“and you’re thirsty,” you shot back, already signaling for the staff to bring the evian out. “let’s fix that.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

most of the time, sana ignored you, lost in her world of luxury and fame. sometimes, in the quieter moments, like when she was waiting for a shoot to start, or when her hair was being styled, she would glance at you with a curious expression, as if trying to figure you out — and always, always made sure you were being looked after by the same staff with the same level of care.

“what do you do for fun?” she asked one afternoon, her voice sudden and clear.

“i read,” you answered, not seeing the harm in a little honesty.

she wrinkled her nose. “that’s it? no parties, no dating, nothing?”

“that’s it,” you confirmed. “i like books, sometimes i’ll binge a show or two.”

“how boring,” she said, but there was no malice in her voice this time — only mild amusement. “any girlfriends?”

“nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’. “if i did, i wouldn’t be working for you 24/7, wouldn’t i?”

“wow, that’s really boring.”

you shrugged. “not everything has to be exciting.”

“but it should be,” she insisted, as if it were a fundamental truth. “life’s too short to be dull.”

you didn’t argue. after all, you knew she was partly right. she’d been raised in a world where everything was larger-than-life; where even the smallest moments were amplified, staged for the cameras and curated for maximum impact.

in contrast, your own life had been marked by quiet corners, long evenings with your friends and the occasional attempt at writing your own poetry, which you never let anyone read.

on the nights you returned home, dahyun and jeongyeon were eager to hear about your day. they had their own security stories to tell, mostly about rowdy bar patrons or obnoxious celebrity guests, but nothing quite as surreal as your new job.

“so, what’s she really like?” dahyun asked one evening, as she stirred a pot of ramen on the stove. “i mean, we know the public persona, but what’s behind all that?”

“more or less the same,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “she’s demanding, spoiled, and out of touch. though there are moments when she’s different.”

“different how?” jeongyeon chimed in, looking curious.

“it’s hard to explain,” you admitted. “it’s like she has these flashes of being real, but they’re gone as soon as they appear.”

jeongyeon grinned. “sounds like you’re getting to know her.”

“not really,” you said quickly. “i’m just observing.”

“sure,” dahyun teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “next thing we know, you’ll be taking selfies with her.”

“over my dead body,” you shot back, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

meanwhile, sana continued to navigate her world of excess with ease, but there were cracks in the facade. sometimes, late at night, you would catch glimpses of vulnerability — when she thought no one was watching…except that you were.

one night, after a particularly grueling day of photoshoots and meetings, you found her sitting alone on a balcony, nursing a glass of champagne.

“you know, it’s not always fun being me,” she said, her voice unusually soft, her fingers grazing over the bottle of champagne in her hand.

you hesitated, unsure if she wanted a response or was simply venting.

“i may have it all, but what’s the point of it when no one wants to get close? this world is all about money and lasting impressions.

you had no words of comfort. you barely knew her beyond the surface, and yet, in that moment, you felt a pang of empathy. you wondered if she had ever truly been allowed to be herself, or if she had always been the carefully crafted image of minatozaki holdings’ heir apparent.

“i guess that’s why you have bodyguards,” you said eventually with a grin, trying to keep the mood light. “to protect you from all that.”

she turned to look at you, a small, tired smile on her lips. “maybe. or maybe it’s just to make me feel less alone.”

you weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply stood there, a silent companion in the middle of a life that seemed to belong to someone else.

the next night, there was a high-profile art exhibit and sana was expected to make an appearance alongside other high-society figures. as you both arrived at the gallery, everything seemed to be going well, until sana noticed that her name was misspelled on the VIP list.

“are you kidding me?” she fumed, her voice dangerously low. “they misspelled my name. do they know who i am?”

the event coordinator tried to apologise, but sana was having none of it. “this is unacceptable. i can’t believe they’d be so careless.”

her stylist, jenna, now in full panic mode, hurried to find you standing at the back. “y/n, can you please handle this?”

you approached sana calmly, sensing the anger bubbling beneath her composed exterior. “sana, let’s not let this ruin the night. we can get it fixed quietly.”

“it’s not about fixing it,” she snapped, her frustration clear. “it’s about respect.”

“and you’ll get it,” you promised, your tone firm. “but the best way to show them who you are is to stay calm and let them correct their mistake.”

she glared at you, her anger giving way to something more vulnerable — hurt, perhaps, at being overlooked in a world that was supposed to revolve around her.

“fine,” she muttered, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “but only because you asked.”

later that night, as you escorted her out of the event, she looked up at you with a mix of gratitude and frustration.

“you’re too good at calming me down,” she said begrudgingly.

“someone has to be,” you teased gently, and for once, she laughed; a genuine, light-hearted sound that hinted at the girl underneath it all.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

days turned into two months and your dynamic with sana continued to evolve in unexpected ways. her diva-like antics had become more tolerable, even endearing at times. she still had moments of complete absurdity, like insisting on a private helicopter ride to a nearby island simply because she felt like having lunch there, but there were also nights when you’d find yourself sitting on her penthouse balcony, sharing quiet conversations under the stars.

“sana, here!” a photographer yelled as you opened the car door for her.

tonight’s event was a high-profile film premiere, and sana was one of the celebrity guests on the red carpet. everything had been meticulously planned — her outfit, her makeup, her entrance.

as soon as she stepped out of the car, a sudden gust of wind caught the edge of her dress, sending it fluttering up slightly.

“are you kidding me?” she muttered under her breath, trying to keep her composure as cameras flashed around her.

you were right behind her, keeping a close eye on her mood. you could tell that the minor mishap had thrown her off, and she was struggling to maintain her usual poise.

“it’s fine,” you whispered as you walked beside her. “no one noticed.”

“they definitely noticed,” she hissed back, her smile for the cameras clearly forced. “this is a disaster.”

“it’s just wind,” you reminded her softly. “you look stunning.”

“you’re just saying that,” she muttered, her voice a mix of annoyance and insecurity.

“no, i’m not,” you insisted, giving her a reassuring look. “you’re the most beautiful person here, wind or no wind.”

she glanced at you, and for a moment, the irritation faded. “you’re impossible.”

“you keep saying that,” you replied, your tone teasing.

she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her efforts to stay angry. “only because it’s true.”

changes in sana’s behaviour had become noticeable — and everyone knew it was your presence.

“where’s y/n?” sana asked one morning, her voice carrying through the hallways of her childhood residence. it had become a common question, asked whenever you weren’t within her immediate line of sight.

her assistants and staff had grown used to it, merely pointing her in your direction, a small smile tugging at their lips; there was no denying that she was a lot softer, more patient with you around.

“i think she went to grab a coffee with the night shift guys before they leave,” one of her managers responded. “how are you feeling?”

“oh,” she frowned, but quickly replaced it with a smile. “i’m feeling great today, i hope you all are too.”

“thank you, miss minatozaki.”

you had just returned from a quick break, a coffee cup in hand, when she spotted you walking into the kitchen. her face lit up, a small grin breaking through her usual poised expression.

“there you are,” she said, a hint of relief in her voice.

“did you need something?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“no,” she admitted, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “just…wanted to see you.”

you nodded, your heart skipping a beat. the walls between you were slowly crumbling, leaving room for something tender and unexpected.

it was a quiet afternoon at the minatozaki residence. sana had accidentally fallen asleep after a long day of back-to-back meetings, photoshoots, and a few tense exchanges with her father over business decisions. you had stayed by her side the whole time, making sure she was protected and reassured. now that she was resting, you found yourself with a rare moment of downtime.

you wandered into the staff room once again, feeling a bit out of place but also grateful for the sense of normalcy it offered. the room was simple and far removed from the extravagance of the rest of the mansion.

it was filled with a few worn couches, a small coffee table, and a kitchenette. it was also where the house staff gathered for breaks, catching up on each other’s lives away from the opulent chaos of the minatozaki household.

today, the usual group was there: hana and misaki, the long-time japanese housemaids; jisoo, the young korean maid who had joined only recently; and hyunwoo and takashi, two of the security guards who had worked at the estate for years.

they looked up when you entered, surprised but pleased to see you.

“y/n-ssi,” jisoo greeted with a warm smile, her accent familiar in its korean softness. “come, sit with us.”

“thanks,” you said, taking a seat beside hana, who immediately poured you a cup of tea from the thermos on the table.

“tough day?” hana asked, her voice gentle, her eyes full of sympathy.

you nodded, taking a sip of the tea. “you could say that. she’s exhausted.”

“no wonder,” misaki chimed in, shaking her head. “sana works harder than anyone gives her credit for.”

“true,” hyunwoo agreed, his expression serious. “people only see the glamorous side of her life. they don’t realise how demanding it all is.”

“but it’s different now,” takashi added, his tone thoughtful as he eyed you. “since you arrived, y/n-san. she was devastated when taehyuk retired.”

“different how?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“she’s softer,” jisoo said, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “more human, if that makes sense. she still has her tantrums, but it’s clear she’s trying to be…better. specially around you.”

you shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. “i’m just doing my job.”

“it’s more than that,” misaki said with a gentle laugh. “sana isn’t just being professional with you. we’ve seen it. she’s happier when you’re around.”

“happier?” you echoed, feeling your heart skip a beat.

“yes,” hyunwoo confirmed. “it’s obvious to all of us. she looks for you in every room, always wants you nearby and is calmer when you’re there. she even listens to you and asks for your opinions, something she rarely does with anyone else.”

“and the way she watches you,” jisoo added with a teasing grin. “it’s like she’s in a romantic drama. sometimes, i wonder if i’ll walk in on a confession scene.”

the group chuckled at jisoo’s remark, but you felt a wave of emotion you couldn’t quite suppress. you had noticed these things too, the way sana’s eyes softened when she looked at you, the way she seemed to lean into your presence as if it brought her some kind of comfort.

“we’ve known sana since she was a child,” hana said quietly, her tone turning serious. “and i don’t think i’ve ever seen her this vulnerable before. she cares about you deeply, y/n.”

“it’s not just her,” takashi added, his voice low but sincere. “we all like having you here. you’ve brought a different energy to this place. one that’s been missing for a long time.”

“i don’t know if i’m doing the right thing,” you admitted, finally letting your own insecurities slip through. “sometimes, i think i’m just making things harder for her.”

“or maybe you’re the one making things easier,” jisoo said softly. “it’s clear she needs you, even if she doesn’t always say it.”

the room fell into a comfortable silence after that, the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air. you were grateful for the staff’s warmth and honesty, even if it complicated your feelings further.

as you finished your tea, you felt a strange sense of belonging; a feeling you hadn’t expected to find in the mansion’s staff room. you weren’t just the hired help anymore, you were someone who mattered, not just to sana, but to the people who had cared for her all these years.

however, not all moments were sweet. the intensity of being in the public eye meant that danger often lurked around the corner, specially in the form of aggressive paparazzi. they were relentless, always waiting for an opportunity to capture the heiress in vulnerable moments.

one night, as you and sana were leaving a high-profile fashion event, a group of photographers closed in, their cameras flashing incessantly. the air was thick with shouts, and the energy was hostile; an unwelcome reminder of her reality.

“sana, over here!” one yelled, his voice sharp.

“how about a smile, princess?” another taunted, his tone mocking.

you instinctively positioned yourself between sana and the crowd, your body acting as a barrier. she clutched your arm, her grip tight, her usually confident demeanor wavering.

“back off,” you commanded firmly, trying to maintain a calm but authoritative presence.

“aww, look at this,” one of the paparazzi sneered, his camera focused on you. “the bodyguard’s playing hero now.”

his comment sparked laughter among the other photographers, and you felt a surge of anger rise within you. you had learned to tune out the taunts over the months, but something about the tone, about how he was reducing your efforts to a joke, struck a nerve.

“she doesn’t need you,” he continued, his grin malicious. “you’re just another expendable employee.”

you stepped closer, your voice low but full of controlled fury. “say that again, and we’ll see how expendable i really am.”

the crowd grew tense, sensing a confrontation, but your tone and stance made it clear that you were not to be trifled with. the photographer hesitated, his bravado faltering.

“come on, let’s go,” another paparazzo muttered, nudging him away. “this one’s not worth it.”

they backed off, but the tension lingered in the air, the aftermath of the encounter still palpable.

sana tugged at your sleeve gently, her voice shaky. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” you said, still glaring at the retreating photographers. “what about you?”

“i hate them,” she whispered, her face crumpling slightly as she let her guard down. “i hate how they always want a piece of me.”

her vulnerability hit you hard, and without thinking, you reached out to touch her arm gently. “i know. but i won’t let them hurt you. not while i’m here.”

she looked up at you, her eyes saying it all. it was one of the few times you’d seen her without her usual armour and the rawness of her emotion was both heartbreaking and intimate.

“thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible over the din of the still-chattering crowd. “for always being here.”

“always,” you promised, feeling a rush of warmth despite the chaos around you.

that night, back at her residence, sana was unusually quiet. she seemed lost in thought, her mind replaying the day’s events. you were about to head out home for the night shift guards to take over when she called your name softly.

“y/n?” you turned around, the impacts of today etched on your face.

“yeah?”

“you keep me going,” she smiled, voice really sincere this time. “i mean it.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the third month with sana marked a distinct shift in the atmosphere between you two. it was a subtle change at first — small glances lingering a bit longer, her voice softening when she spoke to you and an almost childlike curiosity about your life. it was as if she had decided that you were no longer just a bodyguard, but someone she could confide in.

one of those nights, she broke the silence with a surprising question.

“what’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever read?” she asked, her voice a mix of genuine curiosity and something softer.

you thought for a moment, trying to sift through the endless lines of poetry and philosophy you’d absorbed over the years. finally, you recited from memory, “i have waited for you for centuries. my arms were made to cradle only you. my lips were shaped to call only your name.”

sana was silent for a moment, her eyes wide. “that’s…beautiful.”

“it’s from a poem by pablo neruda,” you explained, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“you’re such a hopeless romantic,” she teased, but her tone was warm, almost tender.

“maybe,” you admitted. “but it’s just words, you know?”

“sometimes words are all we have,” she said quietly, her gaze distant.

the conversation lingered in your mind long after that night. there was a depth to sana that she rarely let anyone see, but she was beginning to let you in; piece by piece, word by word.

meanwhile, back at your shared apartment, jeongyeon and dahyun found endless amusement in the stories you brought home about sana’s escapades. they’d often sit around the small kitchen table, laughing over dinner.

“so, she really made you carry fifteen shopping bags all by yourself?” dahyun asked one night, her eyes wide with disbelief.

you nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “yup. and she didn’t even look back to check if i was struggling.”

jeongyeon snorted. “sounds like a real princess.”

“she is,” you admitted, though there was no bite in your words anymore, not after getting to see a soft side of her.

at the end of it all, sana wasn’t the stupid nepo baby you always thought she was. since you met, she has hosted five charity events, donated most of her earnings to at least ten different organisations and it wasn’t easy to outsmart her.

it was during one of these dinners that your other friends jihyo, momo and mina showed up unexpectedly with homemade food and cheap bottles of wine.

“you look…happier,” jihyo observed, a small smile playing on her lips. “is it the job?”

“maybe,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “it’s not as bad as i thought it would be.”

momo, who had a knack for teasing, leaned forward with a grin. “or maybe it’s the client?”

mina, quieter but no less curious, raised an eyebrow. “minatozaki sana, right? she’s pretty famous.”

“and pretty spoiled,” you added, but there was a hint of fondness in your voice that didn’t go unnoticed.

“oh my god, you like her,” jihyo exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “you’ve got that look in your eyes!”

“i do not,” you protested weakly, but your friends weren’t convinced.

“yeah, right,” dahyun laughed. “you totally have a crush on her.”

jeongyeon poured a shot of soju into your glass, chuckling. “you should all hear the way she talks about sana — it’s like the heiress is glued to her hip. she does fourteen-hour shifts with her.”

“okay, fine,” you admitted reluctantly. “she’s… interesting. but it’s complicated.”

“of course it is,” mina said, her tone understanding. “complicated can be good.”

the truth was, you were genuinely enjoying the job, or at least, you were enjoying being around sana. the lines between professionalism and personal feelings had blurred, and you found yourself wanting to spend more time with her, not just out of duty but out of genuine interest.

one evening, as you were preparing to leave sana’s penthouse after a long day, she stopped you at the door with an unexpected request.

“i want to meet your friends,” she said, her tone unusually earnest.

you blinked, caught off guard. “why?”

she looked a bit embarrassed, which was rare for her. “i don’t know. i just want to know more about you. the real you.”

it was a surprising moment of vulnerability from someone who usually kept her walls firmly intact.

after a moment of hesitation, you agreed. “okay, but you should know, our house looks completely different to this.”

“even better,” she smiled.

a week later, you invited sana over for dinner at your apartment. your housemates freaked out, with dahyun saying “she can’t believe this shit” and jeongyeon yelling “our house will suffocate her”, she arrived a bit too early, dressed in obvious designer clothes (she tried to make it subtle) that seemed hilariously out of place in your modest home.

the living room fell into a stunned silence as you led sana inside. she handed you flowers and wine, a small, almost shy gesture that seemed completely at odds with her usual confident demeanor.

“hi?” jeongyeon said, her eyes wide. “it’s nice to meet you!”

“i thought it was time to meet y/n’s friends properly,” sana explained, her voice earnest. “i hope i’m not intruding.”

“not at all,” dahyun interrupted quickly, breaking the awkwardness with a smile. “we’re just surprised, that’s all.”

“a pleasant surprise,” jeongyeon added warmly, recovering from the initial shock. “welcome.”

“thank you,” sana said, her smile growing more genuine. “i brought wine, if that helps.”

“it always does,” you quipped, making everyone laugh.

as the evening progressed, sana was unexpectedly charming. she asked questions, listened attentively and made a real effort to get to know each of your friends. it was clear she was trying to fit in, and there was an endearing awkwardness about it — like she was stepping into a world she didn’t quite understand, but was determined to navigate anyway.

“so, y/n never told me you’re such a good cook,” sana said to dahyun as she tasted the jjigae. “this is amazing.”

“thanks,” dahyun replied, clearly pleased. “y/n’s usually in charge of burning the rice, so i have to take over.”

“i don’t burn the rice that often,” you protested, but your grin gave you away.

“oh, really?” sana teased, her eyes twinkling. “i’ll have to try your cooking next time, then.”

the table erupted in laughter, and you felt a warmth in your chest; one that came from seeing sana blend so naturally into your world.

moments later, jeongyeon leaned forward, her expression curious. “so sana, what’s it like being…well, you? all the glamour, the attention, the pressure?”

she thought for a moment, her expression turning serious. “honestly? it’s exhausting sometimes. but being here, with all of you, feels normal. and that’s something i don’t get often.”

the sincerity in her voice struck a chord with everyone, and the atmosphere softened even further.

“well, we’re glad you’re here,” dahyun said warmly. “you’re welcome anytime.”

“thank you,” sana smiled, her gaze drifting toward you. “i really appreciate it.”

as dinner wound down and the plates piled up, everyone started to get up to clear the table. sana, to everyone’s surprise, rolled up her sleeves and headed straight for the sink.

“what are you doing?” you asked, voice filled with genuine disbelief.

“helping with the dishes,” sana replied matter-of-factly. “is that okay?”

dahyun, who had been about to start washing, handed sana a dishcloth. “here, you can dry. but don’t tell anyone, or we’ll lose our reputations as the best dishwashers in seoul.”

she laughed, taking the cloth. “your secret’s safe with me.”

as they stood side by side at the sink, sana and dahyun exchanged stories; simple things about childhood, favourite foods and embarrassing moments. you watched from the living room, feeling a mix of admiration and affection as she genuinely tried to fit into the mundane domesticity of your world.

“she’s really trying, isn’t she?” jeongyeon whispered to you, her tone a mix of surprise and amusement.

“yeah,” you said softly, your eyes never leaving sana’s figure. “she is.”

and as you watched her, sleeves rolled up, drying dishes with a cheerful smile, you felt the hope you’d been suppressing slowly come back to life.

tonight was a quiet evening at her penthouse, the kind that was rare amidst the chaos of her schedule. she was sitting on the balcony, staring out at the city lights, a bottle of wine in hand. she had insisted on drinking straight from the bottle, much to the shock of her staff, but she sent them off, saying it was a “casual night.”

you joined her, taking a seat beside her on the wrought-iron chair. she offered you the bottle, a faint smile on her lips.

“want some?” she asked.

you hesitated, then took a small sip, surprised at how intimate the moment felt.

“i used to come out here a lot not too long ago,” she said suddenly, her voice softer than usual. “it was the only place where i could really think.”

“about what?” you asked, curious.

“everything,” she admitted, her gaze distant. “what it means to be me, about whether i even like who i am.”

“and do you?” you asked quietly, not sure if she’d want to answer.

“sometimes,” she said honestly. “but mostly, it feels like i’m just playing a role. being the perfect daughter, the perfect heiress…it’s exhausting.”

“you don’t have to be perfect,” you said gently. “not with me.”

she turned to look at you, her eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite identify. “you always say things like that,” she whispered. “and it scares me how much i want to believe you.”

the rawness of her confession left you momentarily speechless. you reached out, your hand resting on top of hers.

“i mean it,” you said sincerely. “you’re allowed to be real, sana. even if it’s messy.”

for a moment, she simply stared at you, her eyes shining with unshed tears. then, in a rare display of vulnerability, she squeezed your hand, holding onto it as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

it was a good night, one that almost felt normal; like you were two regular people.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the start of the fourth month, the line between you and sana had blurred in ways that neither of you acknowledged out loud. it wasn’t just that you had become accustomed to each other’s presence; there was a deeper pull, an unspoken connection that had grown stronger despite your best efforts to maintain a professional distance.

tonight was no exception. it was another high-profile fashion event for prada, filled with celebrities, influencers and models who glided through the room as if they owned the world.

you stood a few paces behind sana, keeping a watchful eye on the crowded room. she was in her element, surrounded by admirers, her confident smile perfectly polished. you tried to focus on your duties but it was hard not to be distracted by how striking she looked tonight — her black dress hugging her figure, her hair swept back elegantly, a diamond necklace catching the light with every turn of her head.

you were pulled from your thoughts when a blonde woman approached you, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. she was dressed in an expensive dress and exuded the kind of effortless confidence that could make anyone feel self-conscious.

“hey,” she said smoothly, her voice low and flirtatious. “you don’t seem like you’re here for the fashion.”

you offered a polite smile, trying to remain professional. “i’m working.”

“i figured,” she replied, stepping closer. “but even bodyguards deserve a little fun, don’t you think?”

you glanced over at sana instinctively, but she was engaged in conversation with a group of designers. for a moment, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond to the model’s advances without drawing unnecessary attention.

“i’m not really here for fun,” you said finally, keeping your tone light but firm.

“that’s a shame,” she teased, her eyes glinting. “because you seem like someone who could use a little distraction.”

before you could respond, you caught sight of sana’s gaze shifting toward you, her smile faltering for a split second as she noticed the exchange.

there was a flicker of something in her eyes.

you quickly excused yourself from the model’s advances and returned to your position behind sana. she didn’t say anything, but you could feel a subtle shift in her demeanour — her posture a bit more rigid, her laughter a bit forced.

“everything okay?” you asked quietly when there was a brief lull in the conversation.

“fine,” she replied shortly, not meeting your gaze.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. the rest of the event dragged on, with sana becoming increasingly quiet, her usual spark dimming noticeably.

when the event finally ended and you both stepped into the back of the limousine, the silence was thick and uncomfortable. sana stared out the window, her expression closed off, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

you glanced at her, unsure of how to break the tension. “are you sure you’re okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” she asked, her voice clipped.

“you seem different,” you said, choosing your words carefully.

“just tired,” she muttered, still avoiding your eyes. “that’s all.”

the drive back to the penthouse was filled with an uneasy quiet, each passing second amplifying the unspoken tension between you. it was clear that something was bothering her, but you didn’t press further, respecting her space.

when you arrived at the penthouse, she stepped out of the car abruptly, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she walked ahead without a word. you followed her inside, unsure of what to expect.

as soon as the door closed behind you, the tension in the room became almost suffocating. sana stopped in the middle of the living room, her back to you, her shoulders tense.

“was she pretty?” she asked suddenly, her voice laced with an unexpected bitterness.

“what?” you asked, confused.

“the model,” she clarified, turning to face you. “did you think she was pretty?”

her words caught you off guard. you weren’t sure how to respond.

“i wasn’t really paying attention,” you said honestly, your voice steady. “i was just doing my job.”

“right,” she said, her tone sarcastic. “because flirting is definitely part of your job description.”

“i wasn’t flirting,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice calm. “she was.”

“and you didn’t stop her,” she shot back, her eyes flashing with frustration.

you took a step closer, trying to bridge the distance between you. “sana, what’s really going on here?”

“what’s going on,” she said, her voice cracking slightly, “is that i hated seeing her talk to you. i hated seeing her try to get your attention.”

the admission hung in the air between you, charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore.

“why?” you asked softly, taking another step closer.

“because,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “because i don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

her words were filled with a desperation that was impossible to misunderstand. she closed the remaining distance between you in a sudden, impulsive movement, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and longing.

“sana…” you started, but she shook her head.

“no,” she said firmly, her hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. “i need to know something.”

“what?” you asked, your voice low and filled with uncertainty.

“if you want this too,” she whispered, her thumb brushing against your skin. “because i can’t keep pretending that i don’t.”

her confession was raw, filled with months of suppressed desire and longing. you could feel the warmth of her touch, the intensity in her eyes, and the vulnerability in her voice.

“i do,” you admitted, your own voice thick with emotion. “i want this.”

there was a moment of hesitation, a pause filled with the weight of everything that had brought you to this point. then, in a rush of courage, she closed the gap between you, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent.

what started as a tentative kiss soon turned into something more urgent, fueled by the months of unresolved tension. her lips were demanding, her touch insistent, and you found yourself giving in despite every rational thought screaming at you to stop. this was wrong: unprofessional, dangerous even — but it was also everything you hadn’t realised you’d been missing.

“sana —“

“don’t think,” she murmured against your skin, her fingers tracing the outline of your jaw. “just be here. with me.”

when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“i didn’t plan that,” she admitted, her voice a mix of relief and disbelief.

“i’m glad you did it anyway,” you whispered, your heart pounding.

she let out a shaky laugh, her fingers still tracing the curve of your jaw. “stay tonight,” she said softly, her eyes filled with hope.

“okay,” you agreed, your voice filled with certainty. that was the first of many nights.

little did you know, jeongyeon and dahyun were becoming suspicious. they noticed your late returns, the occasional dazed expression on your face, and the fact that you seemed more distracted than usual.

“you’re definitely hiding something,” jeongyeon said one evening, her tone half-accusing, half-amused.

“what’s going on, y/n?” dahyun pressed. “come on, you can tell us.”

“nothing’s going on,” you lied, a bit too quickly.

jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. “if it’s about sana, we already know she’s a handful. but if she’s causing you real trouble, we need to know.”

“it’s not like that,” you insisted, feeling the weight of your secret grow heavier. “it’s too complicated.”

and it was. the more you tried to keep your relationship with sana under wraps, the more tangled it became. the sneaking around, the hushed conversations, the stolen kisses — they all added up to a mess of feelings you hadn’t anticipated.

it was meant to be a routine public appearance for sana — just another glamorous event on her packed schedule. this time, it was a charity auction at one of seoul’s most upscale hotels, where wealthy socialites and influential business figures gathered to bid on overpriced art and sip vintage champagne.

you stood a few feet behind her, your gaze scanning the room with practiced caution. the past few months had sharpened your instincts; you were constantly on alert, even when sana’s attention was elsewhere.

sana, for her part, was in her element, dressed in a backless red gown that turned heads as she moved through the crowd. she was charming and magnetic, playing her role to perfection. she even shot you a few mischievous glances, as if enjoying the private joke of your secret closeness amidst all the extravagance.

then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a man approaching: his movements too quick, too direct. before you could react, he lunged toward sana, his voice an incoherent mix of anger and desperation.

“you think no one can have you?” he yelled, his eyes wild. “if i can’t have you then no one can!”

instinct took over. you stepped forward, positioning yourself between the man and sana, your body acting as a shield. his fist swung wildly, and before you could fully brace for it, his knuckles connected with your face. pain exploded across your nose, and you stumbled back, your vision blurring momentarily.

“y/n!” sana’s scream cut through the chaos, high-pitched and terrified.

you quickly recovered, holding your ground as security personnel rushed in to restrain the man. your nose throbbed, and when you touched it, you felt the warm, sticky wetness of blood.

“are you okay?” her voice was frantic as she reached you, her hands trembling as they hovered near your face.

“i’m fine,” you managed to say, though the pain was sharp and your pride was bruised. “just a scratch.”

“that’s not a scratch,” she snapped, her voice full of uncharacteristic worry. “you’re bleeding. we need to get you checked.”

“it’s nothing serious,” you insisted, trying to play it down, but the look on her face was one of genuine panic.

“i’m not taking no for an answer,” she said firmly, her hand gripping your arm. “you’re taking a week off. and that’s final.”

before you could argue, she was already barking orders to her assistant to arrange for medical help and a car back to your residence. her concern was startling; it wasn’t the spoiled diva you’d grown used to, but someone genuinely rattled by your injury.

after you got the clearance from a site medic, sana immediately jumped into the car with you — face still etched with worry.

“you were bleeding,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. she reached out, her fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that caught you off guard. “i was scared.”

“it’s not that bad,” you insisted, smiling at her as you looked down on the blood all over your collar.

“this is all my fault,” she muttered, her voice filled with guilt. “if i hadn’t gone out —”

“no,” you interrupted firmly, grabbing her hand. “this isn’t your fault. it’s just part of the job.”

before she could respond, one of her managers turned to look at you both, looking frazzled and concerned. “sana, we have to leave in a different car now. there’s an urgent board meeting you can’t miss. it’s already started.”

sana’s face shifted from worry to irritation, her eyes blazing with frustration. “i’m not leaving y/n like this.”

“but sana —” junwoo began, his tone urgent.

“i don’t care,” she snapped, her voice carrying an edge you rarely heard. “she’s hurt. i’m not just abandoning her.”

you squeezed her hand, trying to stay calm despite the pain and the intensity of the moment. “sana, you have to go. this meeting is important.”

“you’re more important,” she said firmly, her eyes never leaving yours.

“i’ll be okay,” you reassured her, your voice soft but steady. “i promise. i’ll get patched up and meet you at the residence or the penthouse later.”

she hesitated, clearly torn between her duty and her concern for you. “but what if you need me? what if something happens?”

“nothing’s going to happen,” you said, your grip on her hand tightening. “you have to go. they need you right now.”

her eyes filled with tears, her jaw set in a mixture of stubbornness and helplessness. “i don’t want to leave you.”

“i know,” you whispered. “but i need you to go, please?”

for a long moment, she just stared at you, her face a mask of conflicting emotions. then, with a shaky breath, she nodded. “fine, but promise me you’ll message me later. i want to see for myself that you’re okay.”

“i promise,” you said, trying to inject confidence into your voice despite the pain.

she leaned forward suddenly, pressing a quick, desperate kiss to your forehead as a sleek silver car parked next to the one you were in. “i’ll be back as soon as i can, see you, baby!”

you waved at her, the throbbing pain spread out all over your face being replaced by your skipping heart beat. baby. you could get used to it.

half an hour later, back at your apartment, jeongyeon and dahyun were waiting with ice packs and a bottle of whiskey — ready to commiserate.

dahyun immediately clicked into nurse mode, cleaning your cut while jeongyeon shook her head, half-amused and half-worried.

“you really took one for the team, huh?” jeongyeon teased, though her eyes were soft with concern.

“it was my job,” you said, wincing as dahyun applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

“well, she better appreciate it,” mina muttered. “because that guy landed a pretty solid punch with his rings on too.”

you were trying to downplay the whole incident, but a knock at the door interrupted your attempts at nonchalance. it was unexpected, no one ever dropped by unannounced.

you shared a confused glance with your roommates before jeongyeon went to open the door.

“what the —” jeongyeon’s surprised voice echoed from the entryway.

when you peeked around the corner, you saw sana standing there, holding an enormous gift basket filled with flowers, chocolates, and other expensive-looking items. behind her stood tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon, each carrying bags of what looked like more gifts.

“we’re here to see y/n,” sana announced, her tone a strange mix of confidence and nervousness.

you froze. this was the last thing you’d expected — not just sana’s sudden appearance, but the fact that she’d brought her high-society friends to your modest apartment.

“uh, come in, i guess,” jeongyeon said awkwardly, stepping aside to let them in.

as soon as sana saw you, her expression softened. she rushed over, setting the basket on the table before gently cupping your face, inspecting the damage.

“are you okay?” she asked, her voice low and filled with concern. “i only showed up to the meeting to sign papers and then left.”

“it’s just a bruise,” you reassured her, feeling self-conscious under everyone’s gaze. “you didn’t have to come here straight away.”

“yes, i did,” she insisted. “and i brought reinforcements,” she gestured toward tzuyu, chaeyoung and nayeon, who were now trying to make themselves comfortable amidst the clutter of your shared living space.

“we heard y/n got hurt,” tzuyu said simply, her usually aloof expression softening.

“yeah, and sana was freaking out,” nayeon added with a grin, nudging sana’s shoulder playfully. “she made us come along to make sure she wasn’t exaggerating, and of course, to carry her bags around.”

chaeyoung, meanwhile, looked around with interest. “this place is cozy. it’s a lot more…real than i expected.”

“thanks, i think,” dahyun said, still processing the fact that she was suddenly hosting four of asia’s wealthiest heirs in her living room. “so, uh, anyone want some ramen?”

“we brought food,” sana interjected quickly, motioning to the bags her friends had carried in. “i figured you wouldn’t want to cook after everything.”

before long, the table was filled with takeout boxes, a mix of high-end sushi, tempura and even a few bottles of sake. the atmosphere gradually eased into a strange, unexpected bond.

tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon proved to be surprisingly down-to-earth despite what the tabloids say, laughing at jeongyeon and dahyun’s stories about dealing with unruly celebrities and bar crowd.

“not gonna lie,” tzuyu said, looking around playfully. “i’ve been one of those uncontrollable patrons.”

“oh, you have,” dahyun smirked, crossing her arms. “met gala, last year, vomit.”

“oh my god,” she put a hand over her mouth with careful exaggeration. “no way, it was you?”

“you sure as hell are lucky it wasn’t jeongyeon!”

throughout dinner, sana stayed close to you —closer than she’d ever dared to in public. she held your hand under the table, her thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on your skin. she even pressed a soft kiss to your forehead at one point, eliciting a few curious glances from your friends, who pretended not to notice.

“so, y/n,” nayeon began, a sly smile on her face. “how’s it been, working with sana? she’s not too much of a diva, is she?”

“she’s been fine,” you answered diplomatically, though the warmth in your voice was hard to miss.

“fine?” sana echoed, pouting slightly. “is that all you have to say about me?”

“you’re okay, too,” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“wow, such high praise,” chaeyoung quipped, making everyone laugh.

beneath the humour, there was an unmistakable shift in the air. it was as if your secret had been revealed; acknowledged but not addressed.

everyone seemed to sense the connection between you and sana, but no one dared to bring it up directly.

after dinner, while everyone was chatting in the living room, jeongyeon pulled you aside into the kitchen. her expression was serious, her voice low.

“are you really okay, y/n?” she asked, searching your face.

“i am,” you said, though you knew she wasn’t just asking about the physical injury.

“you and sana, what’s going on there?” jeongyeon asked bluntly.

you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “it’s complicated.”

“no kidding,” she said dryly. “but seriously, y/n. you’re getting in deep with her. are you ready for that?”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i don’t know. it’s not like i planned for any of this to happen.”

“i get that,” jeongyeon said, her voice softening. “but just be careful, okay? she’s got a lot more power in this situation than you do.”

you nodded, appreciating the concern. “i know. but right now, i think she’s worth it.”

jeongyeon didn’t say anything more, but the look in her eyes said enough. she was worried for you, not just because of the obvious risks but because she knew how easy it was for someone like sana to break your heart — intentionally or not.

back in the living room, sana caught your eye and gave you a questioning look. you offered a reassuring smile and she immediately relaxed, resuming her conversation with tzuyu.

it was a small moment, but it meant everything in the context of your complicated relationship.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

by the fifth month of working for sana, your relationship had settled into an unexpected rhythm — one that was equal parts professional obligation and genuine attachment. there were still the usual challenges: sana’s diva moments, sudden mood swings and the pressure of keeping up with her unpredictable schedule. but there were also the quiet moments; late-night conversations on the balcony, her head resting on your shoulder as you both gazed at the city lights below.

meeting sana’s parents, however, was a different kind of challenge altogether. it was a sunny saturday afternoon when you were summoned to the minatozaki family estate, an opulent mansion that dwarfed even the luxury of sana’s usual residence.

the invitation was a surprise, but you had no choice but to accept, sana’s mother was adamant about meeting “the employee who’s lasted the longest.”

“relax,” sana whispered as you both stepped out of the car. she looked stunning in a pastel pink dress, her hair pulled back in an elegant bun. “they’re not as intimidating as they seem.”

you doubted that, but you nodded anyway, keeping your expression neutral. inside, you were a bundle of nerves.

the meeting, to your surprise, went better than expected. mr. and mrs. minatozaki were polite, even warm. they asked you a series of questions — mostly about your background, how you found the job and your experience working with their daughter. you answered truthfully, though you kept your personal feelings well-hidden.

“we appreciate your dedication, y/n,” mrs. minatozaki said with a smile. she was a poised woman, with a sharp gaze that seemed to see through people. “sana has never kept a bodyguard for this long. she must trust you a great deal.”

you felt a strange sense of pride at the comment, even as you maintained your composure. “thank you, ma’am. i’m just doing my job.”

“well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” mr. minatozaki added. “we’ve seen a positive change in sana since you started.”

sana blushed slightly at that, her usual confidence replaced with a hint of vulnerability. you couldn’t help but glance at her, and she caught your eye with a soft smile — one that was meant only for you.

later that night, sana gave you the rare gift of a night off. you returned to your apartment, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. the validation from sana’s parents was unexpected, and it lingered in your mind as you walked through the door.

jeongyeon, dahyun, mina, momo, and jihyo were all gathered in the living room, a mix of snacks and drinks spread out on the coffee table. it was meant to be a casual girls’ night, but you knew from their curious expressions that they were eager for more details.

“so, how’d it go?” jihyo asked, as soon as you stepped inside.

“with the parents?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you kicked off your shoes.

“yeah, obviously,” mina chimed in, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “we want to know everything.”

“it was fine,” you replied, plopping down on the couch beside momo. “they’re nice, surprisingly.”

“and?” momo prodded, grinning. “did they grill you? ask if you’re dating their daughter?”

“no,” you said quickly, though your cheeks felt warm. “it was just formal stuff…but i think they caught on.”

“boring,” mina teased, but her gaze was soft, clearly pleased that you hadn’t had a terrible time.

dahyun leaned forward, an amused glint in her eyes. “speaking of surprise meetings…did we tell you about how the heiresses showed up here last week?”

jihyo blinked, caught off guard. “wait, what? the four heiresses of the apocalypse?”

“oh yeah,” jeongyeon confirmed, laughing. “sana, tzuyu, chaeyoung, and nayeon came by. apparently, sana was worried about y/n’s pretty face.”

“they even brought gifts,” dahyun added, still looking mildly astonished. “for all of us.”

mina’s eyes widened. “wait, sana came here? and brought gifts? the world really is ending.”

“and she was super protective of y/n,” jeongyeon continued, smirking. “held her hand the whole time and even kissed her forehead.”

“whoa,” momo said, her jaw dropping theatrically. “y/n, you’ve got it bad.”

“it’s not like that,” you protested weakly, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you.

jihyo crossed her arms, looking unconvinced. “sounds pretty serious to me.”

“serious or not,” mina interjected gently, “you seem happy, y/n. we’re just worried, you know? she’s…a lot. like, powerful.”

you sighed, grateful for their concern but also conflicted. “i know she is. but it’s complicated, my contract’s about to end.”

“extend it you goof,” dahyun giggled. “you get paid whilst dating your boss? sounds pretty sweet to me.”

“we’re not dating!”

“yet,” mina sighed.

“yeah, yeah,” you groaned, grabbing a handful of skittles and shoving them into your mouth. “whatever you say.”

as the evening went on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics — gossip about work, updates on personal lives and reminiscing about old times.

the final weeks of your contract approached quickly, and the impending end of your time with sana hung over both of you like a dark cloud. there were still stolen moments, secret kisses in the back of cars, whispered confessions late at night yet the tension was growing. you hadn’t told her about your decision yet, but she seemed to sense that something was off.

one afternoon, you found yourself sitting beside sana in the mansion’s garden, the autumn air cool and crisp. she was unusually quiet, a distant look in her eyes as she gazed at the small koi pond.

you often caught yourself watching her, memorising the way she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled when she teased you, or the way she absentmindedly reached for your hand when she thought no one was looking. it was getting harder to keep your feelings hidden, but you knew that admitting your love would make leaving even more painful.

“you know, i used to come here a lot when i was a kid,” she said suddenly, her voice soft and tinged with nostalgia. “back when things were simpler. my mother would bring me here after her meetings. she’d always tell me that the koi fish represented strength and resilience.”

you watched her as she spoke, the sadness in her voice palpable. it was rare for her to share such personal memories and you felt honoured, even as it added to the weight in your chest.

“and sometimes,” she continued, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips, “hana and misaki would sneak me sweets from the kitchen. they were always so kind to me, treating me like i was just one of their girls instead of…well, me.”

you tried to smile but your thoughts were elsewhere; focused on the fact that you didn’t belong in this world of koi ponds and lavish mansions. you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were simply a temporary fixture in her life.

“y/n?” sana’s voice broke through your thoughts, her tone laced with concern. “are you okay? you seem distant.”

you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “i’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”

she tilted her head, studying you with those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through your defenses. “is it about us?”

“i don’t know where i stand in your life,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “and i’m not sure i belong here.”

“of course you belong here,” she said instantly, her voice filled with an urgency that startled you. “you’re important to me, y/n. more than you think.”

you turned to look at her, searching for any hint of doubt in her eyes, but all you saw was sincerity. “how important?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m just your bodyguard.”

“you’re not just anything,” she insisted, reaching out to take your hand. “my love, you’ve become…so much more than that. you’re the person i look for in every room.”

her confession hit you hard, but instead of relief, it only deepened your internal conflict. “your life is too different from mine. you have everything — money, status, opportunities. i can’t compete with that, i have nothing to give.”

“i’m not asking you to compete,” she said, squeezing your hand tighter. “i’m asking you to stay.”

the raw vulnerability in her voice nearly broke your resolve. you wanted so desperately to say yes, to promise her a future that felt impossible. but the practical side of you, the side that had always been wary of hope — kept you grounded.

“it’s not that simple,” you said, your voice cracking. “what happens when i’m no longer part of this world? when your life goes on, and i’m just a memory?”

“i don’t want you to be a memory,” she said fiercely, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “i want you here. with me.”

the sincerity in her words shattered something inside you. it was everything you wanted to hear, but also everything that scared you the most.

“sana,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “i never meant to fall in love with you.”

your confession catches her off guard. “then why are you pushing me away?”

“because loving you feels too dangerous,” you admitted, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “i’m terrified of what will happen if i stay.”

“then let’s be terrified together,” she said, her own tears finally breaking free. “we don’t have to figure everything out right now. please don’t give up on us before we even start. i’m in love with you, i’ve been in love with you from the beginning.”

her plea hung in the air, desperate, as the weight of your decision pressed down on you. staying meant risking everything: your heart, your future, your sense of self.

in that moment, with her hand holding yours and her eyes full of hope, the idea of leaving felt even more unbearable.

you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet. instead, you squeezed her hand back, a silent acknowledgment of the love that had grown between you, even if it felt too fragile to last.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the decision not to renew your contract weighed on you like an impending storm. and as if to reinforce your decision, the universe seemed intent on reminding you of the vast gap between your reality and sana’s.

sana was used to being around the rich, the famous, and the powerful. her social circles included heirs, models, and celebrities — people who shared her lifestyle and effortlessly fit into her world.

you, on the other hand, often felt like an outsider peering in, a temporary presence among the permanent fixtures of her life.

one evening, at an exclusive charity gala, you found yourself in a large, glittering ballroom, filled with the one percent of the world. sana, dressed in a stunning emerald gown, was the center of attention as always.

standing beside her, you remained alert, your gaze trained on the crowd.

and then, there he was — one of sana’s suitors, a man who seemed perfectly tailored for her life. tall, impeccably dressed and oozing charisma, he approached with a confident smile.

“sana,” he greeted warmly, extending a hand. “it’s good to see you.”

“hello hiroshi,” she replied, her voice pleasant but distant. you noticed a flicker of discomfort in her eyes, but she masked it well.

hiroshi, the heir to a luxury conglomerate, was a familiar face at events like these. you’d heard whispers about him before; he was one of the many eligible bachelors rumoured to be pursuing sana.

“you look beautiful tonight,” hiroshi continued, his voice smooth.

“thank you,” she said politely, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. she glanced at you briefly, a silent reassurance that felt hollow amidst the glamour.

the evening dragged on, with more suitors and admirers approaching sana, each one embodying the wealth and prestige you couldn’t compete with. they all seemed so polished, so effortlessly at ease in her world.

every time she exchanged a polite smile or a charming laugh, you felt yourself pulling further away, retreating into your own insecurities.

then came the moment that felt like the final blow.

at another event a few weeks later, held at one of the city’s most exclusive clubs, you found yourself standing at a distance, watching sana from across the room. she was engaged in conversation with a group of old friends, including one you recognised immediately — her ex-boyfriend, jake.

he was a well-known musician, popular and adored by many. his easy charm and confident presence were evident as he chatted with sana, their laughter echoing above the hum of the party.

he was everything you weren’t — wealthy, famous, and someone who had once been deeply embedded in sana’s life.

the crowd seemed to love the idea of them together. cheers and playful shouts of encouragement rang out as someone raised a glass in their direction.

“come on, get back together!” someone yelled, and the room erupted in lighthearted agreement.

sana’s face flushed slightly, but she maintained her composure, laughing it off. “stop it,” she chided, her tone playful but firm.

you felt a sickening twist in your gut, watching her interact so effortlessly with jake. they looked good together.

you tried to tell yourself that it didn’t matter, that it was just an old relationship, but seeing them together made you painfully aware of how small you felt in her world.

“what a couple, huh?” a staff member mumbled to you.

“yeah, i guess,” you turned away, unable to watch any longer.

it was a reminder of why you’d made your decision: you didn’t belong here. you were just a temporary part of her life, someone who would eventually be replaced by someone like jake or hiroshi — someone who fit in.

later that night, as you both drove back to her residence, sana seemed unusually quiet. you could sense that she had noticed your change in mood, but you weren’t ready to talk about it.

not yet.

“y/n my love,” she finally said as you reached her front door, her voice hesitant. “are you okay? you’ve been distant all night.”

“i’m fine,” you lied, avoiding her gaze. “just tired.”

“is it…about jake?” she asked, her tone soft, as if afraid of your answer.

you hesitated, then shook your head. “it’s not just him. it’s everything, sana. all of this — your world, the people in it. it’s too different from mine.”

“but i don’t care about that,” she insisted, stepping closer. “i care about you.”

“and that’s exactly why i have to leave,” you said, your voice breaking. “i don’t want to be the one who holds you back, the one who can’t match up to the life you deserve.”

“you’re not holding me back,” she protested, tears welling up in her eyes. “you’re the only real thing in my life.”

“but i’ll always be just the bodyguard,” you said, your heart shattering with every word. “and you’ll always be the heiress.”

“you’re more than that,” she pleaded, grabbing your arm. “can’t you see that?”

“i can’t,” you whispered, your voice filled with pain. “because this will never work, not in the way you want it to.”

she stared at you, her expression a mix of desperation and heartbreak. “so, that’s it? you’ve already made up your mind?”

“yes,” you admitted, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “i have.”

“so, when were you going to tell me?” she asked, voice cracking but her stare was cold.

“i was going to tell you,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible above the hum of the car engine. “i just didn’t know how.”

“didn’t know how?” she repeated, her tone turning sharp. “you were just going to disappear without even talking to me?”

“it’s not like that!”

“then what is it like?” she demanded, her eyes blazing with hurt and betrayal. “are you just like everyone else, y/n? were you using me this whole time?”

“no,” you said, feeling a surge of desperation. “you know that’s not true.”

“then why?” she asked, her voice breaking. “why are you leaving?”

“because i don’t belong in your world,” you said, your own voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “i’ve told you that over and over again.”

“i never cared about that,” she shouted, her face flushed with anger and tears. “i care about you, y/n. i’ve given you everything i have, and it still isn’t enough?”

“that’s not fair,” you shot back, feeling your own anger rise. “it’s not about what you’ve given me. it’s about what i can’t give you. you’ll always have to explain why you’re with someone like me.”

“i never asked you to be anything else!” she yelled, her voice breaking completely. “i just wanted you to stay.”

“and that’s what makes this so hard,” you said, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. “i love you, sana. but loving you isn’t enough to make this work.”

the car pulled up to the mansion, but neither of you moved to get out. the driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror, unsure of what to do.

“get out,” sana said suddenly, her voice low but firm.

you hesitated, unsure if she meant it literally or figuratively. “sana —”

“get out,” she repeated, her voice rising. “we’re finishing this conversation inside.”

you both stepped out of the car, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. she stormed up the steps, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor and you followed, feeling the impending doom settle in your chest.

as soon as you were inside the mansion, the argument erupted again.

“you’re a coward,” she spat, her voice echoing through the grand hall. “you’re just running away because it’s easier than staying.”

“it’s not about running away,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “it’s about facing reality.”

“reality?” she laughed bitterly, her eyes wild with emotion. “the reality is that you’re too scared to take a chance on us.”

“because i know how this ends,” you said, your own voice rising now. “it ends with me being a burden in your life, a constant reminder of what doesn’t fit.”

“you’re not a burden!” she screamed, her face streaked with tears. “you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like me, not just the heiress, not just the brand.”

the sound of footsteps approaching caught both of your attention, and you turned to see mr. and mrs. minatozaki standing at the top of the grand staircase, looking shocked and concerned.

“what’s going on here?” mrs. minatozaki asked, her voice filled with alarm.

“stay out of this, mother,” sana said, her voice raw. “this is between me and y/n.”

“sana,” her father tried to interject, his voice gentle. “we can talk about this calmly —”

“there’s nothing to talk about,” she cut him off, her eyes fixed on you. “y/n wants to leave. she doesn’t think she belongs here.”

“because i don’t,” you said quietly, your voice filled with an agonising finality. “i’ll never be able to give you the life you deserve.”

“what i deserve?” she repeated, her tone incredulous. “what i deserve is to be with someone who loves me enough to stay.”

“and what if that love isn’t enough?” you asked, your heart breaking as the words left your lips. “what if it only causes more pain?”

“then we face it together,” she said, her voice softening for the first time. “but you’ve already given up, you decided for us without even talking to me.”

the truth in her words was undeniable and it left you feeling exposed and helpless. you had given up; not because you didn’t love her, but because you were terrified of what loving her meant.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face.

her expression hardened again, a mix of anger, heartbreak and resignation. “sorry isn’t enough.”

“i know,” you said, your voice barely audible.

she stared at you for a long moment, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. then, with a coldness that felt like a final blow, she uttered the word that shattered everything between you.

“leave.”

“sana, please —”

“i said, leave,” she repeated, her voice empty now. “before i regret you.”

you didn’t move for a moment, unable to believe it was really ending like this but her eyes were dead serious and you knew there was no room for negotiation.

with a final look, you turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a nail in your heart. you could hear her sobs behind you, raw and uncontrollable, but you didn’t turn back.

it was for the better.

as the mansion doors closed behind you, the enormity of what you’d lost crashed over you like a wave. you had thought leaving would hurt less than staying, but now, as you stood on the steps of the life you could have had, you realised you had never been more wrong.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it had been nearly two months since you left the minatozaki mansion, but the wounds felt as fresh as ever. you were still trying to move forward, but most days felt like you were just treading water, struggling to keep from sinking beneath the weight of your own heartbreak.

you had saved up enough money to pay for the next six months of rent and food, but there was no joy in the security it offered. it just felt like a countdown to more loneliness.

despite your efforts to stay away from news about sana, you couldn’t avoid the headlines completely.

she had been partying non-stop, her face appearing on every tabloid cover — smiling but empty-eyed, reckless but lost. there were photos of her stumbling out of clubs, surrounded by people who seemed more like shadows than friends. one image stood out in particular: sana, arm-in-arm with jake, her ex, looking disheveled and drained.

the caption suggested they were rekindling their romance, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it — or perhaps, you didn’t want to.

you tried to drown your sorrows in alcohol, spending most nights at a small bar nearby. it was dark and dingy, a stark contrast to the places you’d been with sana, but it felt fitting. the drinks were cheap, and the bartender never asked questions.

“are you okay?” jihyo asked one night when she found you slumped over your kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of whiskey beside you. her voice was full of worry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

“no,” you admitted, your voice hollow. “i’m not.”

“this isn’t like you, y/n,” she said, her eyes filled with concern. “you’re not the type to just give up.”

“maybe i am now,” you replied, taking another swig from the bottle. “maybe i never should’ve tried in the first place.”

jihyo reached out, her hand squeezing yours. “we’re here for you, okay? no matter what.”

their support felt distant, muted by the constant ache of missing sana. you knew your friends were worried; how you barely ate, how you showed up to gatherings disheveled and silent, a shadow of who you used to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few days later, when you were nursing a hangover from another lonely night at the bar, your phone rang. it was an unknown number, and you hesitated before answering.

“hello?”

“y/n?” a familiar voice asked, tentative but warm. it was mrs. minatozaki.

“yes, this is y/n,” you confirmed, surprised. “mrs. minatozaki?”

“i’m sorry to call you like this,” she began gently. “but my husband and i were hoping you could come to the mansion. there’s something we need to discuss with you.”

you felt a wave of apprehension, unsure of what to expect. but something in her tone; soft, almost pleading — made it impossible for you to say no.

“i’ll be there,” you agreed quietly.

the mansion felt as imposing as ever when you arrived, its grandeur a stark reminder of the world you had tried to leave behind. you were greeted by the familiar staff, who offered polite smiles before leading you to a cozy sitting room. mrs. minatozaki was already seated on a velvet armchair, her husband standing beside her with a solemn expression.

“thank you for coming, y/n,” mrs. minatozaki said warmly, gesturing for you to sit. “we know this isn’t easy for you.”

“what’s going on?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. “is it about sana?”

“yes,” mr. minatozaki replied, his tone serious but gentle. “she’s…not doing well. we’re very worried about her.”

“we thought she would eventually find a way to cope,” mrs. minatozaki added, her voice breaking slightly. “but it’s clear now that she’s just trying to numb the pain.”

you felt a stab of guilt, even though you knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. “i’m sorry,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to hurt her like this.”

“we know,” mr. minatozaki said softly. “and that’s why we wanted to talk to you.”

“sana has always been a passionate person,” mrs. minatozaki continued. “but she’s never loved anyone the way she loves you. we’ve seen her with past lovers — there was never this depth of feeling, never this kind of vulnerability.”

her words hit you hard, and you struggled to process them. “but i don’t fit into this world,” you said, your voice filled with insecurity. “i’m just —“

“and that’s exactly why we accept you,” mr. minatozaki said firmly. “you love our daughter for who she is, not for what she represents. we don’t care about the gossip or the opinions of others. we care about her happiness.”

“it’s true,” mrs. minatozaki added, her eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “we want you to know that you have our support completely.”

tears welled up in your eyes at their words, the acceptance and understanding you’d never thought you’d receive.

“thank you,” you whispered, overwhelmed. “i just…i don’t know if she’ll want me back.”

before they could respond, the sound of commotion erupted from the foyer. voices, urgent and alarmed, echoed through the mansion’s grand halls.

“what’s happening?” mrs. minatozaki asked, standing up abruptly.

a moment later, two security guards entered the room, struggling to support a barely-conscious sana. her makeup was smudged, her hair disheveled, and her eyes half-closed. she was clearly intoxicated, her legs barely able to hold her weight.

“sana!” mrs. minatozaki exclaimed, rushing over.

“we found her like this outside a club,” one of the guards explained apologetically. “she insisted on coming home.”

your heart broke at the sight of her, the reckless desperation evident in every inch of her being. without a second thought, you stepped forward.

“let me take care of her,” you said softly, moving to her side.

sana’s eyes fluttered open, but they were unfocused, clouded by alcohol and exhaustion. “y/n?” she slurred, her voice thick with confusion.

“it’s me,” you said gently, your hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “i’m here.”

“no, you’re not real,” she mumbled, her head lolling against your shoulder. “you’re just… another dream.”

“i’m real,” you insisted. “i promise, i’m real.”

her body went limp against you, and you struggled to support her weight. with help from the guards, you managed to get her upstairs and into her bedroom. she collapsed onto the bed, her breaths shallow and uneven.

you stayed by her side through the night, watching over her as she tossed and turned in her sleep. her face was flushed, her expression troubled even in unconsciousness. you couldn’t help but reach out, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her hand, hoping that somehow, your touch could offer her peace.

the next morning, sana stirred awake, her head pounding and her mouth dry. she squinted against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, her vision slowly focusing. when she saw you sitting beside the bed, her eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over her.

“y/n?” she asked, her voice hoarse and hesitant.

“hey,” you said softly, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her eyes. “how are you feeling?”

“like shit,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “but why…why are you here?”

“your parents called me,” you explained gently. “they were worried about you. i was worried too.”

sana’s eyes filled with tears, her shoulders shaking with the weight of everything she’d been holding back. “i thought i lost you,” she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “i thought you were really gone.”

“i thought i was gone too,” you admitted, your own tears falling. “but i realised that leaving you hurt more than anything else.”

“you’re not just saying that because my mother asked you to come, are you?” she asked, her vulnerability laid bare.

“no,” you said, reaching out to take her hand. “i’m saying it because i love you. and i want to be with you — no matter what.”

her lips trembled as she tried to hold back more tears. “i want that, too.”

you took a deep breath, feeling the fear and hope collide within you. “if you still want me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tremble in your heart. “i want to try again. for real this time.”

sana’s sobs turned into laughter, a mix of relief and disbelief. “of course i want you,” she said, reaching for your hand. “i’m sorry, i’ve always wanted you.”

you pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling her body relax against yours. she buried her face in your neck, her breath warm against your skin.

“i’m sorry, too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “for the photos, for being so reckless. none of it was true, i just wanted to forget.”

“i know,” you said, stroking her hair gently. “but we don’t have to forget. we just have to move forward.”

“together?” she asked, looking up at you with a mix of hope and fear.

“together,” you confirmed, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

later that evening, as you lay tangled in each other’s arms, sana’s breathing slow and steady against your chest, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief. it wasn’t going to be easy but you were ready to face it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

#kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice x reader #kpop gg #sana imagines #sana x reader #angst #twice #minatozaki sana #kpop imagines

670 notes · View notes

arminsumi · 1 year ago

Text

DO IT RIGHT — 五夏

SatoSugu ⋅ fem reader

🔞 suggestive / partly n.sfw

SUMMARY — Suguru and Satoru each have their own differing ideas of what makes a good make out session.

WARNINGS — make outs n kissing, SatoSugu, jealousy, light angst, they fight over u, lovably annoying gojo, calling you sl*t playfully, "dirty girl" n maybe other nicknames, smidge of sexual tension/undertones ig

WORDCOUNT — 2.4k

TAGS for the lovelies !! 💗

@buttercupmuffins

" Slow and sensual; that's how it's supposed to be done, Satoru. You rush your kisses. You're too chaotic. "

" Yuh but I get more bitches than y — "

" — when was the last time you kissed a woman ? "

" Junior high. "

Suguru started cackling. The two of them were sat in your living room apartment. You peered at them from over your computer, the blue light glaring in your eyes.

" What the fuck are you two on about ? " you asked, taking your earphones out completely and halting the progress of your essay.

" None of your business. "

You sighed in response. That was such an expected response from Satoru.

" We were debating what makes a good make out session. You know, like ' fast or slow ' ? ' Chaotic or sensual ' ? Mister six eyes over here has opposition to my beliefs as usual — don't fuckin' wink at me, you freak. "

Satoru giggled. " Of course, 'cause your beliefs are flawed and quite frankly you're full of shit. Blech. Hey, you agree, don't you ? "

You looked up in thought for yourself.

" I don't know. See, chaotic movie-like kisses are something lots of people want. But then again, lots of people prefer slow and romantic kisses. They really want to intertwine bodies with their lover and — "

Suguru completed your thought.

" — and become one with each other. Yeah, you get me. "

" Hey now, I'm not saying I agree with either of you. I haven't even kissed one of you. Maybe you're both shit at kissing, now that I think 'bout it. Haha. " you chuckled to yourself.

The boys raised their brows at you. Ah, a common ground; both taking offense from you.

" Why don't you come over here 'n experiment with us, princess ? " Suguru murmured condescendingly. His earrings caught your eye.

Your stomach dropped. " Huh ? " you blinked dumbly.

" Don't get all coy with us now. Come over here. " Suguru teased.

Satoru arched a brow at you and smirked. " Yeah, come. You can help us settle this debate. "

" Mhm. " Suguru nodded.

You were reluctant, because... well, this could fuck up the friendship, right? They didn't seem to mind that, as they entrapped you between their bodies and kept you there. Imprisoned between their competing passion.

" Me first ? "

" Uh, no way, asshole. Me first. "

" I'll choose. "

" Nah, let's flip a coin. "

So they flipped a coin at Satoru's insistence.

" Call it. " Suguru said.

" Heads. " Satoru called.

You observed Suguru's attractive, veiny hands as he tossed the coin and caught it, smacking it onto the back of his hand.

" . . . heads. " Suguru groaned.

" Yay . . . smooches for Satoru. " Satoru cheered.

" You're so cringe. " you said, crinkling your nose.

" Shut up or I'll stick my tongue down your throat — "

" — you mean you weren't planning to do that ? What a pity. I like French kissing. " you teased.

That caught the boys attention. They exchanged a look, and now a tension built up between you three.

" Okay, if you want me to, then I will. " Satoru tried to remain confident, but the idea of French kissing you was destroying his cool composure.

" I want you to. So get to it, boy. " you said.

Suguru raised his brows at Satoru and smirked. He sat to your left, long leg propped along the edge of the couch, encasing you there.

Just before Satoru leaned in to kiss you, swift and cheeky as he was, Suguru interrupted with a quick, teacher-like stutter.

" Hey, nonono. We're setting a timer. Five minutes each, precisely. "

" Of course. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " Well hurry up then. "

" Impatient much ? " you chuckled under your breath. Satoru went a bit red.

The split second Suguru started the timer on his phone, Satoru engulfed you in a kiss that nearly knocked the wind out of you. He was chaotic. Feverish. Gliding those candied lips across yours was up there with the best decisions he's ever made.

He tilted his head into the kiss, tongue swiping and slipping in eagerly to play with yours. And with how he French kissed, you almost wanted to giggle; he was so playful.

Suguru watched. And observed. And thought about how he's going to win you over with his approach to kissing. What you needed, he thought while seeing how Satoru whimpered into your mouth, was a sensual man who takes his time.

" Time's up. "

" What the fu- "

A string of saliva connected you and Satoru, his lips felt tingly and he still wanted more even after devouring you.

" Five minutes go by so quick . . . "

" Uh-huh. When you're having fun. Sooo ? " Satoru looked at you expectantly.

" Rather hold back your judgment until you've tasted me, hm ? " Suguru stopped you before you made any comment on his best friend's kissing style. " Come on. Come closer. I don't bite. " he said, making the last part sound so sultry that a shiver ran down your spin.

Now Suguru . . . oh boy, Suguru. How he kissed. You were already dizzy from Satoru's fervor. But Suguru ? One little peck at your chin to test. Then he pressed teasing, leadup kisses to the corner of your lips.

" Su — " he muffled your call of his name with his lips, drinking up the rest of the syllables like a thirsty wolf.

His big hands molded to the back of your head, tangling up into your hair. Tilt tilt tilt. Press. Such a deep and hard kiss. You felt like your perception of reality got fucked up a little for a moment there.

He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, wetting it, and once you opened your mouth for him he just smirked at your acceptance. In his mind, he was aiming to kiss you like he was converting you. Damn near kissed like a cult leader, you don't know why but you thought of that description right then.

That buttery soft tongue made you moan. The sound caught both the boy's off-guard.

And then the poor white-haired boy started glaring.

" Okay, okay, time's basically up. "

" Hmmmf ? " you looked dazed.

" How much time was left before you just cancelled that ? " Suguru squinted annoyedly at his best friend, hands still keeping you in place. His lips were barely parted from yours, so every shake of subtle anger in his vocals vibrated subtly across your lips.

" I dunno, fifty-two seconds ? "

" That's almost a whole minute left you asshole ! "

" Yeah so ?! You gonna fight me over it, big boy ? " Satoru challenged.

" What are you getting so jealous for ? "

You widened your eyes at the argument springing to life. The air felt so tense and hot. You could feel their heats radiating from their faces as they flushed from anger.

" What are you kissing her so deeply for ? Are you trying to fucking prove something ? "

" Oooooooh, pretty boy is jealous jealous. " Suguru said venomously.

" Boys, please don't fight. This is not such a big deal. " your voice came in between them.

They looked at you bitterly.

" Whose kiss did you like better ? " Satoru asked.

" Mine. No offence, but Satoru you kiss like a fucking high schooler. "

Satoru clenched his jaw. " I was asking her — not you, Suguru, baby. "

Oh he's angry angry you thought. Satoru always used nicknames with people he liked, but when the word baby came out of his mouth in that tone? God have mercy on whoever's on the receiving end. Unless it was someone who could match that intensity...

" I'll tell you what I liked and disliked about both of you . . . to be fair. Okay ? How's that sound, boys ? "

God they loved it when you called them like that. Yeah, they're your boys alright. They loved being your boys.

" Okay . . . sure. That's fair. Go ahead. " Suguru said. A small nervousness crept across his chest, but he hid it well.

You paused for just a moment to collect your thoughts.

" Damn just spill already ! "

" Let her think, Satoru. Impatient bitch. "

" I will fucking bite you. "

" Then bite me. "

" Boys. Calm down. "

So they listened. Your word was supreme, after all. If you told them to stop, they stopped.

You tilted your head and slowly began laying the truth on them. " I liked the way you held the back of my head so possessively, it was really hot . . . " you told, directing at Suguru.

Satoru grimaced. Why didn't he do that? He was mentally kicking himself.

" . . . but I preferred how dramatically you kissed me. " you directed to the sulking white-haired boy. Then his features lightened a bit.

" And ? " Suguru encouraged, eager to hear more praises.

They leaned in very close for the fact they were just listening to you speak.

" I didn't like how sloppy and wet Satoru was. "

Satoru cringed at himself. He was very self-conscious about being a sloppy kisser.

" Haha, sloppy kisser. "

" Suguru shut the fuck up. "

You quickly turned down the heat between them and knocked Suguru off his high horse.

" You're a bit of a show-off kisser, not as romantic as I imagined you to be. It feels like you were trying too hard to win me over, or something. "

Oh, he hated that you could deduce that. He really thought he had you.

" Fair enough . . . " it was his turn to sulk.

Satoru smirked. " So you prefer me ? " he winked, " I mean, of course you do. "

" No. I like both of you. "

" Okay, slut. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " If you had to choose — "

" Don't worry about offending us, we can take it. "

" Yeah right, you're gonna fucking cry if she chooses me. " Satoru cheeked.

The tension rose between them again. But this time, there was this... oddly violent passion. Some sort of suppressed, stifled romanticness brewed between them. It's always underlined their conversations before, even their arguments. This indescribable, undeniable tension — not the jokingly " I'm so gay for my best friend " stuff. No, something genuine. Something that was not a joke.

" Why don't you kiss each other ? " you blurted out.

Satoru looked at you like you were crazy. " What the fuck ? "

" I mean, to make it fair . . . and get better insight into how the both of you kiss ? I-I don't know, just a thought. "

" Just a thought ? A horny thought I bet. " Satoru chuckled. He was going red in the face. And so was Suguru.

" What the hell. I'm innocent. " you defended.

" Riiight. "

Suguru had been thoughtfully quiet. Then he finally spoke.

" . . . I'm down. "

" WHAT. " Satoru freaked out. His face went completely red now. You could feel how hot he was.

" Yeah let's go for it. " Suguru shrugged.

He froze up. His heart palpitated. Stomach dropped. Eyes went blown wide open.

" I-I-I yeah ? Okay ? Sure. Yeah. Alright. Then. Let's. Do — it. "

" Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you stutter like this, Satoru. " you teased.

" Shut up ?! Shut up. Let's just do it and get it over with. "

" Yeah. Okay. Come here. "

" What the fu- you come here. "

Suguru raised his brows at him. " Seriously ? "

" I'm more dom than you. " Satoru said proudly. " Come here. "

" Nah, you come here. "

" No way ! "

You sighed. " Wow, this is going to take a while. "

" Nonono, we're doing it — " he kissed him, " — see ? "

" Satoru, such a cute peck. We're supposed to make out. That's what you want, right Y/n ? "

You stomach flipped. His tone. His damn tone. That cocky glint in his eyes. Suguru was so teasingly seductive right then.

" Y-yeah. For five minutes. Just like we did. "

" Okay. Set a timer. "

Satoru looked like he was shocked from how fast he just kissed his best friend. Such a short peck had his stomach doing loopies. You could tell he was going through a crisis.

" 'kay, timer's on. "

So they melted their lips against each other right in front of you. Satoru was stiff at first, but loosened up the deeper he fell into his best friend's kiss. More than that, he succumbed to the sultry feelings that Suguru radiated. You know, he just had that thing about him. That air. He was alluring and enticing, almost dangerously so at times.

You listened. Watched. Glanced down at the timer. Really, you set a stopwatch, not a timer. A little experiment. You wanted to see how long they'd take to realize how long they've been kissing for.

And it's well over five minutes. Lips smacking, heads tilting, bodies coming closer. Suguru's bangs brushing over Satoru's cheeks, hands cupping his flushed cheeks. What a sight. Two pretty best friends going breathless over each other.

" 'how long's it been ? " Satoru mumbles in between kisses, totally in a dazed state.

You hide your smirk. " Just a bit left. "

Suguru gave you a suspicious side eye. Oh, butterflies. He caught onto you right then.

He thought;

Well if you want us to put on a show, we'll put on a show. Just for you.

And dipped his tongue between Satoru's parted lips, erotically swirling around — slow, sensual, languid.

" ahmmm ~ " Satoru almost made a noise close to a moan, and then got embarrassed.

You gulped and watched. Did they forget they were doing this in front of you? Your face was right there.

You stared hard.

Suguru smirked and parted from the kiss, holding the face of a dazed-looking Satoru in the palms of his hands as he spoke to you.

" Did you even set a timer ? Ah, whatever. Stop staring, dirty girl. Come join the fun. Three's company, you know ? "

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eddiesxangel · 9 months ago

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You Look Tense |Masseuse!Eddie x f!reader

Cw: reader uses where/her pronouns, seduction, perv!reader, perv!eddie, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected, pull out, pet names (sweetheart, good girl) modern!eddie

wc: 2.9k

You were on a fold-out massage table in the middle of your living room. You downloaded the app to have a masseuse come to you on a whim. Your friend swore by it. You were a bit apprehensive about letting some stranger come into your home and rub you down while you were naked, but she said it was legit.

When you heard the knock on your front door, you didn’t think you would open it up to one of the hottest men you had ever seen. Leaving you staring at him with wide eyes and your jaw agape.

“You order a massage?” He smirks.

“Yea, sorry, um, come in.” You observe his dark blue scrubs as they hug his upper body.

You lead him inside to show him where to set up.

“First time?”

“What?”

“Is this your first time using the app?” he smiles. Taking off his coat, you notice his tattoos and muscular forearms.

“Oh, I’m… yeah.” You stammered because you were so distracted.

“I could tell, don’t worry. Things are strictly professional.” He explained.

Professionalism was not what you were worried about at this point. Quite the opposite, really.

After Eddie set up his things, he instructed you to lay face down, and then he left the room so you could strip and get under the white cotton sheet.

You called out that you were ready and heard his light footsteps entering the room.

“Anything specific you want me to focus on?”

“Um, my lower back and shoulders have been really hurting,” you mumble into the head pillow.

“Ok, great, let’s get started.”

His hands were like magic, the way he wasn’t too rough or too light. He worked your soar muscles perfectly.

“What’s got you so tense, sweetheart? Let me help you relax,” He spoke.

Relax?! How could you be relaxed with this extremely attractive man who is rubbing his hands all over your naked body in your own home!

And the voice! Oh god, his voice is so hot, you don’t want him to stop talking. It didn’t help that you were wound up in more ways than one.

“Um, uh…. Work, I guess.” You didn’t need to guess; you were drowning in the stress of your responsibilities.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m here to help with that,” he hummed as you heard the squirt of more oil fall into his large palms.

“Oh, yeah, your shoulders are so tense; that's a big knot.” You felt him shuffle, so he stood at your head. If you lifted your head up any further, you’d be face to face with his crotch.

You were trying too hard not to let out a moan as his strong fingers dug into your aching back.

“You gotta relax for me. Is the pressure too much?”

“No-no, you’re perfect- I mean, it’s perfect…”

Eddie let out a chuckle as he continued.

This was so good, too good, but he was right...You needed to relax. You tried not to focus on who was above you but on the feeling that he was giving you.

A few minutes later, you were successfully relaxing into the table.

“That’s it, very good,” he praised, and you let a moan slip out.

“Sorry,” you squeak.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It happens all the time, and it lets me know I’m doing a good job."

Like Eddie said, he was keeping things strictly professional, but you were making it very hard, especially with that moan you let slip from your pretty lips.

Your skin was unbelievably soft, and you smelled really good. With this particular job, Eddie is used to all kinds of different clientele; he never knew what he was walking into when he got booked. So when you answered the door, he was very pleasantly surprised.

You stew in your own thoughts about how good this man’s hands feel, holding back the noises threatening to break the silence. The only sounds filling the room are Eddie’s feet shuffling, breathing, and wet, slippery skin.

“The best way to help with your shoulders is if I also rub down your neck and head. Are you okay if I get oil in your hair?” he asked again in that sexy, soothing tone.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you sighed. Eddie smirks to himself again, knowing he is doing a good job.

“Great,” he shuffles to position himself to get the best angle. You feel as he sits beside you on the table, drapes your arm over his thigh, and uses his free hand to work at your neck.

His hand slowly works its way up, up, up until his long, thick fingers grip your hair, tugging on your scalp. His fingers dig into the perfect pressure points on your head.

You can’t help but let out another moan of pleasure; it just feels so good. You can’t stop your mind from going to an x-rated place, thinking about how good his hand feels tangled in your hair.

You couldn’t ignore your pussy any longer; there was no denying how wet you had gotten over the last half hour, and he hadn’t even made his way down to your lower back. How are you supposed to survive the rest of the time?

Your pussy was throbbing by the time Eddie made his way down to your lower back. You could feel Eddie move the sheet down lower, exposing more of your skin to him. He lightly draped it over your ass, careful not to expose it too much, trying to tuck the sheets into the band of your underwear, but to Eddie’s surprise, you weren’t wearing any.

You hear him clear his throat as he discovers that you are fully naked underneath.

“What side is, uh, bothering you?”

“Right,” you sigh. And I think I might have pulled the back of my thigh,” you suggest, hoping Eddie reads into it.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” he hums.

Eddie was in serious trouble, and the thin material of his pants did not help his situation.

Eddie had never grown hard with a client; this was not normal. He could not excuse himself until the session was over, so he hoped and prayed that his situation would defuse itself until it was time for him to leave.

It did not, you were torturing him, at this point you had to be doing this on purpose. Your moans were getting more and more sensual.

“Mmmmm, you’re so good at this,” you praise as his hands run along your lower back, creeping closer and closer to your ass muscle.

“So I’ve been told”

“Bet you’re really good with your hands in other places.”

Eddie froze. Did that really come out of your mouth, or did he hear things?

“You uh-" he cleared his throat, “-uh, said your lower back, right?”

“Yeah, but like, really low,” you hummed.

“You comfortable if I move the sheet, uh, lower?”

“Yeah,” you wiggled your hips slightly to encourage him to take things further. You cannot remember the last time you had been so turned on.

You hear Eddie’s breath hitch as you feel the fabric slip off your skin.

“Oops”

“Oh shit-”

“It’s okay; you can leave it off”

“You? Uh? Oh-okay” what was he thinking? This was not professional! It would get him fired if anyone found out… but how could they? He was in your home. You wouldn’t tell anyone? Against his better judgement, he decided to leave you exposed…

With your naked body exposed to Eddie, he continued to work on your lower back. Your oiled skin was glistening under each touch, and Eddie’s cock was growing by the second.

Eddie’s hands worked lower as he hesitantly yet excitedly explored the vast planes of your body. He hadn’t dared make a move, but you could feel his hands move closer to your inner thighs, so you partied your legs so he could have better access.

Eddie watched as your legs moved for him, your legs parted, and he had the perfect view of your glistening pussy lips.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he knew he had not even gotten close to that area of your body with the body oil.

With a deep breath, Eddie grazed his fingers closer to your upper inner thigh, right below your ass; the tops of his fingers lightly traced the outside of your lower lips to test the waters.

The last thing Eddie needed was to read your advances the wrong way and end up in jail.

“Mmmm, that’s good,” you hummed, encouraging Eddie to keep going.

“You need me to work on anything else?” Eddie asked suggestively.

“Now that I think about it, I pulled my groin the other day; I think you could really help me with that; you’re so good with your hands.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, shifting his weight to get the best angle. You felt him crawl up onto the table with you and straddle his legs around you.

His hands work your ass, massaging the muscles up, pulling your skin taught so he could see your swollen pussy lips.

Sucha pretty pussy

“Mmm thank you”

Shit, did Eddie say that out loud?

You let out a chaste breath as you felt his long thick fingers finally graze your wet slit.

Eddie gently massages circles onto your clit, and your hips roll into his hand.

“Mmmm, that’s it, relax f’me… this is what you needed, hmmm?”

“Uh-huh,” you sigh as your body fully relaxes into Eddie’s soft touch.

Eddie’s hand continues to work your fluttering clit before he decides to let an oiled finger slip into your hole.

“Oh, sweetheart, you are so tight, so tense. You should have told me earlier. I really need to loosen you up” he pumped his finger in and out of your pussy before curling his fingers to massage your inner walls.

“Maybe we could extend the session,” your breath hitches.

“I think that can be arranged,” he slips a second finger effortlessly.

As he continued to work your pussy he added his thumb to your clit. That familiar feeling of lust and need built up in your lower stomach as Eddie sped up his fingers.

“More,” you pleaded. You were at his mercy. You’d do anything to have him make you cum.

“I think I need to get in deeper,” he hummed.

You liked that idea; you popped up to finally see him. You watched as his pants slipped from his hips, and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock staring you in the face.

“Like what you see?” He smirks as he watches you checking him out while he checks you out, seeing your naked breasts for the first time.

“Yeah, like what you see?” You ask back.

“Oh yes,” he leaned in to cup your face, bringing your lips together.

Eddie’s mouth took over yours, and he ravaged you. His plush lips were so soft as his lips explored your own. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his soft hands moved up your middle to kneed your breasts.

You shuffle back so Eddie can place himself between your legs.

“Need you now,” you spoke into his mouth between kisses.

“Want you so bad” Eddie replies.

“Please,” you begged for him.

Eddie stripped the rest of his scrubs and exposed the tattoos that dawned his alabaster skin. He was covered head to toe in ink. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but the need to have him inside of you was more, so you widened your legs as far as they could go to expose yourself.

“Thought you said you pulled your groin” Eddie smirks

“Guess your magic hands healed me” You sank your hand between your legs so you were touching yourself, teasing Eddie as you worked your fingers in your needy clit.

“Magic hands, huh?” He replaced your hand with his.

“Mmmmhmmm,” you hum as Eddie kisses you and guides you to lie on the fold-out table.

“You think these are magic just wait and see what my cock can do.”

You gasp as Eddie slips the head of his cock across your wet lips, collecting your slick before the tip of his cock breaches your hole.

His cock was thick and long. Slowly, he stretched you out inch by inch. Sinking deeper and deeper until you enveloped him wholly.

Eddie watched as your pussy swallowed him, skin to skin, he didn’t even know you, but it didn’t matter; all that mattered was how you were making him feel and how he was making you feel.

“Oh, Eddie!” You cried as he started building up his speed, pumping into you.

“Mmmmm, I like how you scream my name.” You watch as his body pumps into you, his abs defining themselves with every thrust in. His big hands grip as best they can on your oiled skin and push your legs to your chest, folding you in half as he does.

“S’big,” you try and grab at Eddie, but he’s too far out of reach, so you ball your hands into fists and grit your teeth in frustration. You want to feel him, to touch him, to have all of him.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Wanna kiss you” you whined.

“Shhhh, you’re okay; as long as my dick is inside of you, you’re fine.”

“Oh fuck!” He sunk deep into you, faster and faster, his hips thrust his cock deeper into your needy cunt.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl.”

God, the mouth on this man, you had no idea.

Eddie gave in and leaned over to kiss you before he unexpectedly jumped off the table and flipped you over to your hands and knees.

“The only way I’m going to get as deep as you want, baby,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

“Just give it to me”

“Oh, asking to be fucked? Wanna be fucked by my cock, huh?”

You nod your head frantically as he aligns your hips to be at the perfect height for him to pound into you.

“Fuck look at that” he massaged your ass, spreading it apart before plunging his hard cock back into your throbbing pussy.

You let out a scream; Eddie was right; this angle was deeper, so deep you swore he was in your stomach at this point.

“That’s it, you can take it.” Eddie watched as your oiled skin bounced off his cock, and he swore he was in heaven.

Your tight pussy clenched down on him even more from the angle. The way your warm wet walls were hugging his cock, how your ass looked bouncing off his body, he could have come by now, but he wanted to hold off, savour this a little while longer.

Eddie reached round your body to massage your clit once more. His fingers were moving so meticulously while his cock was pouncing into you from behind.

“Faster” You grabbed Eddie’s wrist because his fingers were too slow; no way you would cum from them slowly circling your swollen clit.

Eddie listened to your plea and picked up the pace with his hands and his hips. Eddie was pounding into you so hard. If you were an outsider looking in, you would swear the fold-out table would have given out, but you were so cockdrunk you had no other thoughts than how Eddie was making you feel.

“You’re close, baby; I can feel the way you’re squeezing me; you’re going to cum when I say okay.”

“Can’t hold it, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad!” your upper body gives out, only making your ass arch higher for Eddie. He looks down to see the creamy ring form at the base of his cock as your orgasm threatens to take over.

“Hold on, on my count ok.”

“Mmmmmmmm” was all you managed to get out. Eddie s fingers still circling your clit, with his cock hitting your g spot. There was no way you were holding out any longer.

You wanted to cum so bad, but you also wanted to please Eddie, your friend, your hardest.

“Cum for me in…. 3….2….1, cum on my cock” he spoke between each thrust into you.

You listened and came as soon as the words left his mouth. Your body seized, and your mouth opened, but nothing came out as your silent cries were met with a wave of pleasure that washed over your whole being, soaking Eddie’s cock even more.

It could have been minutes or a few just a few thrusts later, you didn't know, but Eddie pulled out and finished, spreading his seed on your ass, which was somehow still perched in the air for him.

“Holy shit,” you hear Eddie whisper. “Definitely never done that before,” he laughed.

“Same,” you sigh, still fucked out.

Eddie picked up the discarded sheet off the floor and wiped off the remanence of his seed off of your ass and back.

“So, uh, that fix your problem?” He smirked.

“Only time will tell.” You sit back up finally with the sheet wrapped around you. “Maybe next time we will have you set up in the bedroom… You know, there is more space up there,” you smile.

“Next time?” Eddie smiles back.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll even cook you something, buy you dinner first.”

“I’d like that.”

Tags: @munson-blurbs @hunter-in-the-upsidedown @joejoequinnquinn @hellfirenacht @cinemabean @voyeurmunson @impmunson @asimpforthe80s @ali-r3n @take-everything-you-can @taintedcigs @trashmouth-richie @strangerstilinski @daisy-munson @bl00dy-hideout @babybimbo777 @lokis-army-77 @jamdoughnutmagician @sadbitchfangirl @mrsjellymunson @xacora @girlwiththerubyslippers @justiceforfoxface @katethetank @frogtape @cool-nick-miller @susie3334 @mrmiyagislittletrees @penguinsandpotterheads @eddies-acousticguitar @elvirasleftnipple @american-idiot-jpg @emo-taurus @ilovetaquitosmmmm @chloemm13 @gri959gri @seatnightsdea @faeriemunson14 @veemoon

#Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #modern!eddie #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #modern!eddie munson x reader #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie munsun x you

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murdrdocs · 1 year ago

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tutor!coryo who is hired by your parents to get your grades up. you attend the academy, yet your behavior is as if you don't. with you spending time doing anything other than studying for exams, or paying attention in class, coriolanus has never thought much about you. other than when he felt like you were bringing shame to the academy's name. but your parents are offering good money and he would be a fool to say no.

tutor!coryo who thinks he's above it all, who thinks he's better than you. he's only a year older than you, but he believes he's more mature. he doesn't have as much money as your family, but he believes he has more class than you do and surely that's worth more than money. he assumes he hides it well, but when he explains concepts, it's condescending. he rolls his eyes if you don't understand something. he grits his teeth if he has to repeat himself. he thinks someone your age, with your money and status, should at least try, and if you start to argue the opposite, he has to hold himself back from snapping at you.

tutor!coryo who refuses to be attracted to you. your apperance is nearly perfect, clearly what you spend most of your time on, but your lack of effort in academics makes him absolutely refuse to even consider seeing you in that light. but, he can't help but think about you late at night, how your house clothes hug your body in ways the academy uniform can't. how you smell, and the smooth sound of your voice as you ask questions.

tutor!coryo who masturbates to the thought of you. suddenly, within his time of tutoring you, he's jacking off way more than he has since puberty. he's conjuring up memories of the way your button up was a little see through one day, and he caught sight of your red bra. he remembering the way your ass filled out the lounge pants you wore around him during your last session. he's thinking hard to rehear the sound of the groans you let out when you're frustrated, and repurposing them to attach the sounds to images of you taking his cock.

tutor!coryo who suddenly starts treating you a little nicer during sessions. just small things; little encouragements whenever you get something right, exercising more patience with you while you think about what he had just said, laughing at your jokes instead of telling you to stay on track. at first, he doesn't know why he's doing it, but then he rationalizes that it's because he wants to get his dick wet. that's all.

tutor!coryo who's treated hospitably in your home. your mother keeps him fed by putting in requests to the cooks, your father cracks bad jokes that actually make him comfortable, and you, eventually, keep his dick wet. sliding under your desk and using your mouth on him when your parents are home and in separate rooms. palming his dick with your red painted nails while you're both supposed to be reading something. sweetly asking him to stay a little while longer for dinner, which won't be ready for another hour and your work is already done. and when he asks what you can do to pass the time, you smile and lead him to your bed, throwing your shirt off on the way.

#coryosworld!#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #celeste writes thg

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thecoochiefairy · 1 month ago

Text

━━ 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑒 .ᐟ toji + suguru.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 17.3K word count. hockey player! toji, hockey player! suguru + toji third person omniscient pov, black woman, threesome, double penetration, vaginal penetration, angry sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading, condomless sex, kissing, cream pie, spanking, aggressive toji, aggressive suguru, lil bit of sweet toji, a lil bit of sweet suguru, violence between two men, jealously, butt stuff hehe, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑖 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑛𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 ; 𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑒𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ let’s cut to the chase. y’all know i got two baby daddy’s, i had to! love y’all. enjoy. 🫶🏽

SWEETIE, that was her name. Well, that’s what they called her anyways. She was—sweet. From the bone straight smile she carried, cat-like eyes flickering beneath dark lashes, glaring as if she was always trying to entice the audience. Her pom-pom’s clasped under her fingers as she shook them around, swinging her hips, rosey pink hair flowing as her body moved to the beat of the family friendly songs they played along the arena. But no matter how hard she danced—or how effortless she made it look—fans were always going to pay more attention to what they came for—the hockey game.

High cholesterol snacks being thrown into the mouths of aggressive sports junkies as equally aggressive players sped along the ice, crushing into one another as they competed in their game. It was a rush to even be in the atmosphere, never knowing what to expect before the night ended. Being a professional Ice Girl had its perks. Traveling from city to city, dancing in places she never thought she’d be able to see as a child. Here she was, living her dream while doing something she loved. Sometimes it could be annoying. If it wasn’t having to constantly repeat the same eight count, it was sweating beneath the lights shining against the bleachers, to freezing cold in her tightly fitted uniform as she had to scrape the ice for the players safety.

Her eyes scanned the numerous men inside the cubicle— it’s almost comparable to a shark tank— searching for a familiar face. Maybe she was searching for one, maybe she was searching for both.

She could imagine him without his helmet as he squatted down next to his partner, nudging to get his attention. Midnight hair, piercing gray eyes, tall and broad muscular build. Ink danced all over his body beneath his black and white jersey, FUSHIGURO plastered along the back and front. His scarred lip wafted with his intimidating persona, being the troublemaker of the two—always getting into physical fights more than anyone on the team. Then there was the good to his bad cop—good by default, anyway—equally dark hair that fell past his shoulders, usually up in a bun or half-bun if it wasn’t under his helmet. Those damn hazel eyes. Tattoos scathed his body, eyebrow and lip piercing shining beneath the lights of the dome, GETOU printed in alabaster. He was the mouthpiece, talking shit from earth to hell, never keeping his opinions to himself. She knew both of them in more ways than one.

Despite their infamous reputations, they were…opposites. You’d expect their roles to be reversed. Toji was surprisingly sweet—unless he was within a game—while Suguru could be sweet. If only she’d known that her own antics would twist the three of them into issues she couldn’t take back, maybe she wouldn’t have entertained their attraction to her. Then again, maybe none of that mattered.

It was a regular night for them, the Ice Girls dancing behind the wall of the rink, cheering with the rest of the crowd. It was now one of their final intermissions, the team having fifteen minutes to strategize their plays, the girls also taking a break from their routine. Unfortunately their work was never done. The women placed themselves into a line, preparing to clear shavings from the ground for the teams to safely return to the game.

She held her broom towards her chest, taking a deep breath before she hopped onto the ice, pushing her body as quickly as the men did, swaying her hips to get a good weight along her feet.

Her eyes briefly caught those gray one’s. His vision scans the short-shorts that cling to her round hips and ass, desperately wanting to rip through the fabric if they could. The long sleeve she wears is snug, matching the black and white jerseys that the men wear, having their own individual nicknames on the back. Her pink curls complimented her toffee skin beautifully. Hair in a half-up half down style, matching bow pinched against her ponytail, freckles and dark lashes sprucing beneath the lights. She almost looked innocent—if only she was, he thought.

Neither of the men were subtle, even if they thought they were. They both watched in unison as she pushed her body around the ice, the little twist in her hips and sway in her body didn’t go unnoticed as the two stood in the tunnel of the court.

Maybe she wanted to smile. But instead, she added another twist in her hips as she continued to skate. When she arrived back up to the boards of the rink where the men stood in preparation to step back down, she was met with another pair of eyes—hazel, softer than gray— moving quickly, not wanting to become distracted by him. His helmet is off, head dipped down as he quickly pulls his long hair into a bun behind his strident features, dark eyebrows furrowed as he focused in on her. Mission failed.

As she pushed herself up the step, she felt fingers brush along her hip as his deep voice asked, “You’ got it?”

“I got it,” she tells him, nearly rolling her eyes in reply. Although something in her wanted to squeal like a girl with a crush, she suppressed the stupid grin that wanted to go along her face, moving his hand away as she carried herself back towards the group’s dancing spot.

Her friend and teammate, Bubbles, watched all of this happen. She waited until they got back into their standing positions, then leaning over as she confronted, “I saw that.”

Sweetie’s eyes followed over to her friend, bringing them back to the crowd as she asked, “Saw what?”

“The way that the both of them can’t take their eyes off of you,” Bubbles replied.

Sweetie shrugged, a small grin on her face as she said, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” her friend countered, chocolate brown skin glowing beneath the lights as she raised a dark brow.

How could she not notice them? Of course she did. Toji’s eyes were always locked on her ass, and Suguru's were focused on her face, watching her lips.

“Bullshit to you,” she shrugs, “Besides, I’d rather watch them instead. Don’t you just love athletic men?” She hums, leaning against the glass by her elbows, watching as they all hop back onto the ice effortlessly.

Bubbles sighs, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks out at the game. She knew her friend entertained both men, impressed that she knew how to maneuver through two different personalities off the ice, and that all three of them hadn’t killed each other yet. It was almost a full time job.

Her friend rolled her eyes, a playful smirk on her face as she responded. “I love sporty men, but most of them are just assholes. Literally, they’d have a long stick up their ass if they could,” she moved her eyes back to Sweetie, “I don’t know how you deal with that.”

“By fucking them good enough to where they have so much dopamine in their system, they don’t have a reason to ever be mad.”

Bubbles shook her head, chuckling in response, “You’re terrible.”

The game continued as usual. The girls were now back to their routine, fluttering their pom-pom’s around skillfully. At the same time, the crowd began to notice as a player on the other team jabs the shaft of his stick towards Toji, cursing out at him angrily. Wrong move.

Everyone watches as Suguru swipes his feet closer to his teammate who immediately becomes angry, placing his arm in front of him to stop him from attacking the opponent. The crowd cheered as this was usually expected at these games, fights not a crime within the sport of hockey.

“Oh god, here this nigga goes,” her teammate mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

This was unfortunately a usual thing. Toji getting mad, and Suguru having to stop him from being benched. Even if the crowd enjoyed acts of violence, it wasn’t an overall good look that the same player was known to crash out each time someone pissed him off. With him and Suguru being close, he was usually the one to pull him away from stupid scenarios—unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those times.

Just as they thought that he had calmed down, Toji quickly turns as he effortlessly raises his leg, the slice of his blade crushing into the man’s chest, his body dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Screams of both people and players echoed through the arena, the players on the ice immediately stopping their actions as their eyes all fixated on the scene unraveling in front of them. Some of them immediately rushed to help their teammate, others stood and watched in utter shock.

“OFF THE GODDAMN ICE, FUSHIGURO!” his coach angrily shouted, throwing the clipboard within his hand.

The referee’s immediately dragged Toji off of the ice who lashed out curses. Suguru was now equally pissed as he shouted, “That’s bullshit! This fuckin’ idiot started it!” referring to the player still laying on the ground trying to catch his breath, his teammates trying to help him up as he nearly passed out from the loss of oxygen.

As the ref tried to talk Suguru into returning to the game, he smacked his lips as he shouted, “Fuck you! Learn how to call a fuckin’ foul!”

Sweetie could do nothing but let out a sigh as she crossed her arms over her chest, seeing as the two problem twins worked their magic once again.

The players all stood along the sides, shaking their heads at the situation that always occurred at least once every week. The player on the ground clutched their chest, pain seeping through their body. The ref’s attempted to hold Toji back as he tried to lunge over the edge of the barrier.

“That’s it!’ the ref’s shouted. “You’re both gettin’ a game suspension!’

They should’ve expected this.

“Shit,” she mutters, “This is messy as hell.”

“Sweetie and Bubbles! Are you here to watch the drama, or entertain the crowd?!”

Their own coach catches their attention. Sweetie turns her head as she shouts back, “Sorry, coach!” Both women grabbing for their pom-pom’s.

“Say sorry while you both clean the ice off tonight—by yourselves!”

Both women's mouths dropped open. Sweetie standing up as she frowned, “C’mon, coach!—“

The rest of the girls snickered in the background, overhearing as their coach announced their punishment. They knew they weren’t supposed to be nose deep in the drama, the usual resolution being to lead the crowd in a chant as distraction. Their coach was harsh enough whenever something happened, never letting things go without punishment.

“And I don’t wanna see a bad job, or that’ll be a week's worth of extra workouts, you got that?!”

The girls both nodded their heads, replying in unison, “Yes, coach!”

The game picked back up to a more calming finish, their team winning and ending the night off successfully.

Both Sweetie and Bubbles were now in an empty arena, teams grabbing their belongings and exiting the building, leaving the rink quiet as their skates slid around the ice.

Sweetie mutters, “This is bullshit. Everybody watches fights when they happen!”

She wasn’t wrong, it was bullshit. Fights happened, people loved the drama, and yet they happened to be the only ones punished for it. Even a few parents and children let out laughs from their seats.

Bubbles agreed alongside her, “I know, right? It’s not our fault that Fushiguro and Getou wanna fight every game.”

“Well, technically Suguru was trying to stop him—more so guilty by association,” she shrugs, sweeping the access water along the ground.

“Taking up for your man, hm?” Bubbles teases.

“Shut up,” she chuckles.

Silence goes in between them for a moment, Sweetie bringing her eyes up as she feels her friend wanting to ask another question. She could just tell.

“Yes, Bubbles? Please ask before you explode.”

“Sorry, I just—uh…so…do they like….know?”

Sweetie picks her face up with a frown, “Know what?”

Bubbles gave her a deadpan look, raising a brow towards her and responding, “ The fact that you’re fucking the both of them.”

“Yeah?” She tilts her head, “Why?”

Her friend shrugs, “Don’t you think that’ll be a pain in the ass if one of them starts liking you?”

“It’s a good thing they don’t. When I asked Toji if it was a problem, he said he was a grown ass man that could handle the situation, and Suguru doesn’t do relationships so—it’s fine.”

“Right, because a grown man always says what he means,” Bubbles replies, rolling her eyes, “They’re dudes, Sweetie. They don’t say shit they actually mean.”

“Well I don’t know, Bubbles, I’ll just have to live in my delusions? I like fucking both of them, and until it becomes a problem, let’s not hope for the worst, shall we? I don’t think I wanna see Toji ninja kick Suguru’s pretty face.”

“Oh god— he do got a good ass leg on him. It’s like the motherfucker did ballet or something. Sounds terrifying. Suguru’s too pretty,” she agrees, “This is ghetto. Why couldn’t you just stick to one?”

“Because where’s the fun in that? Why not have one, when you can have all?” she winks, her friend then sighing with a laugh, “You’ really are terrible.”

“Yeah yeah, but you love me, don’t you?”

Sweetie drops her broom, playfully grabbing Bubbles by the wrists as she begins spinning the both of them atop the ice. They both laugh like children, playing around when they should’ve been cleaning. They could pay the price later.

Another thirty minutes pass as they finally get back to cleaning. As they finish up, the sound of the locker room opens, heavy feet booming along the ground. She can feel the tension along him, scarred lip twitching as he walks, deadpan face as he heads for the exit door of the building. Onyx hoodie pulled over his head, Nike sweats paired at the bottom as he looks more comfortable, but seemingly still upset from what happened earlier.

Bubbles says, “I’m heading out, you coming?”

Sweetie looks back to the footsteps still echoing beneath the bleachers. She mindlessly replies, “Uh…I’ll meet you back in your room, yeah?”

Bubbles looks back to where she sees Toji walking, putting the math together that she didn’t need to be apart of this conversation. Taking this as her exit opportunity, she shrugs, “Have fun with Satan’s spawn. Deuces!”

She begins swaying to the opposite side towards the girls locker room, picking herself up to pass the bleachers. Sweetie turns her attention back towards Toji who continues to walk, calling out to him as she greets, “Hey, Hothead.”

A dark brow raises as the nickname echoes through the empty dome, stopping in his tracks as his face turns towards her voice. His eyes scan her up and down as he comes to a stop at the side of the barriers, grabbing onto the top of it with both hands while he responds to her, “Hey, Bubblegum.”

“Bubblegum?” she scans him up and down, “Cute. I’d assume you’d still be pissed off from being benched.”

Toji grunts in response, the scowl still on face while he remains leaning over the side. “I am. Should’ve put my blades in his fuckin’ mouth.”

“Did you get suspended from the next game?”

“A couple days,” he replies, his gray eyes focusing back on her as he continues, “And I gotta go to bullshit therapy.”

She laughs softly, “Awe, such a crybaby you are. Don’t wanna talk about your feelings?”

Toji’s scowl remained on his face as he scanned her up and down, “You gonna clean the ice or just stare at me?”

She tilts her head, ignoring the deflection within his response. She then says, “Mmm, nah. Was wondering if you wanted to come play with me for a bit, let off some steam.”

He shakes his head, “I’m good. Last thing I wanna be on is that ice.”

“Good thing I wasn’t talking about hockey then.”

The look on her face is innocent, but her eyes tell another thing. They’re dark, blinking at him in an enticing manner. Those damn eyes.

The shift in the conversation wasn’t something he expected, but as her beauty sunk into him, he wasn’t opposed to her offer.

He raises an eyebrow with a chuckle, shaking his head as he says, “Neither was I.”

Another usual routine of theirs. The aggression that he held within the game always seemed to fall back on her. But, she wasn’t complaining. They went from staring at each other, to her forehead now pressing against his, Sweetie hovered atop of him as her hips rotated from above, his rough hands clawing against her back, sending a gasp stumbling from her throat. He grunted as his eyes looked up to meet hers, a dark smirk on his lips.

This was Toji’s way of handling his emotions. He preferred this type of therapy instead of talking out his feelings.

His hands moved against her body, now finding their way to her waist as he guided her above him, watching as her hips rocked and moved. A low groan escaped his lips as his eyes continued to scan over her body, wanting to touch more, touch all.

“Wanted to play with me, huh?” He muttered, a smirk still on his face.

He could be arrogant—she knew that. Being as needy as she was when it came to him, it was a vulnerability she couldn’t stand to show. She hides her face within his shoulder. Her grip is deadly amongst the back of his hair, a whimper releasing from her lips as she softly cries against him, trying to move her hips as her own sense of control, losing it each time his strength overpowered.

His grip continued to tighten on her hips as he let out a low, “Fuck,”, his smirk only growing as he felt her struggling against him. He was enjoying watching the control he gained, his strength always winning.

“Always so fuckin’ sensitive,” he smacks his lips at her attempts to hide herself, gripping her wrist that withheld his hair. He twists their fingers into intertwining themselves as he begins thrusting his hips sharply upwards, other hand firing a spank to her ass, gripping the flesh in his hold as he picks up speed.

She wraps her free arm around his neck, clawing at his back as he rotated her hips, dropping her down against his dick, causing her eyes roll to the back of her head as she whines, “Oh, fuck.”

His smirk only grew even larger as her walls tightened, a low growl escaping his lips at the very enjoyable feeling of her nails clawing at the skin of his back.

“Look at you—“ His hands once again gripped at her hips as they rocked back against him, pulling her down as he grunted in response, “Takin’ my dick just right.”

She pulls her face up to meet his, a shy but sultry laugh falling from her lips at that. Her eyes never fully made contact with his. She pushes him farther back onto the bed, pressing her hands along his chest as she grinds against him, face tilting up to the sky as she feels him grunt, gripping onto her skin as he does so.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty,” Toji groaned.

Even if she couldn't admit it, she tried to be more vocal for him—he loved that. She drags her hand up to reach his jaw as she leans forward, lips hovered above his as she teased, “Yeah?” Breathing along his face as she begs quietly, “Say it again, please.”

Her lips were only a few inches from his own, the feeling of each breath making his chest rise even more. He released another low chuckle as she begged for him.

“You look so fuckin’ good on top of me, pretty,” he repeated. “Like you were made to be here, riding my dick.”

His tone of voice made her lose her sense of control once again. A flush came to her face as she leaned herself farther into him, lips right against his ear as his hands grip her skin beneath the sheets. His palms tighten around her lower back, holding onto her as he raises her body, bouncing her along his lap. The sound of their skin sticking and releasing one another’s, echoing against the room, makes her drag out a moan, holding onto him as she whimpers, “Agh, I—I’m close…”

“Fuck that. You can take more.”

She shakes her head, feeling him now grasp her hair into his palms, tugging at it harshly, holding her in one place as his hips begin sharply snapping upwards. She could only tremble above him, attempting to reach back to slow his movements, his free hand latching onto her arm, snapping it behind her back.

His eyes watched as she looked down at him, her expression being one full of sensitivity. Toji could feel her body beginning to shake in his hands, trying to slow him down as much as possible, but that wasn’t going to happen, not here.

“Uh uh,” he clicked his tongue, “Don’t cry now, you wanted this,” he muttered, his hand clutching her body tighter.

She shudders, entire body shaking as if she’d been tased, his palms holding onto her as she sobs out a moan, dropping her hips down as her lower body explodes in pleasurable raptures. He grips her face as he kisses her, swallowing her whimpers as her body relaxes above him.

He continued to hold her in place as her body shook against him, his kisses muffling her sounds. He savored every reaction that came from her as he finally let go of her arm, allowing her to move freely. Slowly, Toji’s other hand released itself from her hip, Sweetie jumping as he spanked her in reward, caressing the side of her face, his lips finally leaving hers as he spoke, “You did good, baby. Real good.”

She leans her head on his shoulder as she tries to catch her breath, hiding her face within his skin as a warmth appears on her cheeks again. He pulls her face up to his, gripping her in a kiss, her mouth whining softly at his roughness.

The warm feeling of her body against his was something he adored. He didn’t get to feel this way with anybody else.

He pulled her in for another kiss as she hid her face, Toji eventually pulling away as he darkly chuckled, “You’re cute.”

A silence went between the two, comforting in its own way. His hand continued to rest on the side of her cheek, caressing along her skin as he commented, “You’re too…pretty like this. You know that, right?”

Oh.

His voice…admitting that to her, made something in her body feel as if she was smacked into reality. This always happens. He became sentimental, and it scared her a bit. She tried to lean upward, Toji catching her throat within his hands as he tugged her towards his face again, saying along her mouth, “Come shower with me. I’ll fuck you again.”

That makes her giggle softly, “I have to go.”

Toji’s grip on her throat grew slightly tighter as she tried to pull away from him. He never let her go when she felt the need to pull away, instead always pulling her right back to him.

He smirked as she giggled, his lips close to hers as he responded back, “Nah, you don’t.”

“I do. We both have practice tomorrow morning, Fushiguro,” she calls him by his last name, reminding him of more important things than another round of sex.

He grunted as his grip on her throat finally relaxed, watching as she began climbing off of him. There was a slight frown etched on his face as he sat up, “You’ running away from me?”

She searched for her clothes, too in a rush to actually look for them. She then snatched up the hoodie he was wearing earlier, pulling that over her head as she looked back at him, “Suguru texted me earlier. I forgot. I gotta give him his room key back, I haven’t seen him since the game.”

The mention of his friend wasn’t something that usually irritated him. But when she says that, it suddenly does. When she doesn’t hear a response, she looks up, noticing the look along his face, something she’d never seen before.

She raises an eyebrow, “What’s the face for?”

He huffed in response, “Nothing,” with a low tone, his voice showing that he was clearly becoming pissed off.

He watches her pull shorts over her legs, thinking over his next set of words. If only he’d hesitated a little more.

“So what—you’re gonna fuck me, leave and then go fuck him, right?”

Sweetie halts. A deep frown coming to her face as she looks back up at him.

“Why are you doing this right now? Do you think I’d go fuck him right after fucking you, Toji?”

The jealousy within him had fully taken over at this point, and he no longer cared how he treated her. His eyes continued to glare at her as he spoke, “You’ve done it before. What’s so different now?”

He knew exactly what he was doing as the words continued to slip out of his mouth. His arms were now crossed over his chest as he sat along the bed, watching her get dressed.

She blinks, “Even if I did—which I would never—I’d have enough respect not to play in your face about it. Why do you care? What happened to you being a grown ass man that didn’t care about what I was doing when I’m not with you?”

He scans her body, no emotions returning along his expression before he agrees, “I don’t. Get the fuck out.”

She’s taken back by his words. It makes a laugh of utter shock come out as she raises an eyebrow, “You’re serious? You can’t be.”

“I am. Get the fuck out,” he repeats back dryly, not a single hint of humor in his voice as his words were harsh.

He continued to watch as she stood there looking dumbfounded, clearly not expecting him to actually tell her to leave in such a manner. He knew he was being a prick. He didn’t care.

She was a sweetie, until she wasn’t. His sweetie, until she wasn’t. Her anger gets to her first. She picks up the pillow that had dropped off the bed, using all her strength as she chucked it at him with a snarled, “Sleep off whatever bullshit you’re dealing with,” yanking the front door open as she lowly insulted, “Fuckin’ stupid ass nigga,” as she slammed the door behind herself.

He watched as she threw the pillow at him, catching it within his own hands before he tossed it to the side, “Yeah, whatever,” to her last words.

The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the room, Toji grunting at the sound. He runs his hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh as he laid back on the bed. He’d probably feel bad later on.

Her thoughts flurry through her mind as she takes the elevator up to the third floor of the hotel, making her way down the hall as she pulls the key out of her bag. Maybe she felt a little bad. But it’s not like she was trying to rub anything in Toji’s face, purposely trying to make him jealous. She knew he could be the possessive type, wanting things his way. She just didn’t know she factored into that.

Suguru was probably asleep by now. She planned to leave the key on the nightstand as she trudged farther down the hotel’s hallway. The annoyance from the argument between her and Toji kept resurfacing even as she tried to push it down, wondering what suddenly made him shift.

She thought about her friend's words. What if one of them did catch feelings?

That was gonna make shit extremely complicated.

She waited until the door’s red light went green, quietly opening the door to a pitch black room. She could hear the mini fan buzzing in the corner, figuring he’d fallen asleep a while ago. In and out. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she placed the key card along the nightstand.

As she turned back towards the door, she felt arms suddenly clasp around her hips, the unexpected feeling making a scream release from her lips, one of the hands covering her mouth as the other lifted her legs into their chest, bridal style.

Her heart nearly knocked out of her chest as the lights came on, Suguru’s half-naked body hovering above her as he chuckled deeply, ignoring the swats she gave his arm as he threw her down along the bed.

“Fuckin’ dick! Why would you do that?!”

She continues to shout at him, going to push herself up when he locks her arms beneath his larger ones.

Suguru laughed at her reaction, her swats only making the grin that was plastered on his lips widen. He had expected her to come in at some point, but he didn’t know it would be so soon.

He took a moment to admire her appearance as he slowly climbed above her, “You’ look aggravated, I had to fuck with you.”

She sighs, watching as he climbs above her, “I am. Why are you still awake?”

He continued to hover above her, eyes scanning over her face. He smirked as he responded, his voice low and deep, “Couldn’t fall asleep. Been thinking about you.”

Suguru brought his face closer to hers, his hands now resting on either side of her head. “You look good as fuck right now.”

She sighs, “Thanks,” the word coming softly from her lips.

For once, a frown comes to his face, feeling her energy off. He wasn’t the one to ask too many questions.

Suguru slowly leaned himself forward, “Your big ass head is filled with too many thoughts right now.”

“Oh? Let me shut my brain off then,” she rolls her eyes, “I’m…fine. Fushiguro pissed me off.”

He smirked at her words, leaning himself down, now hovering too close to her mouth, “Don’t worry, Imma’ take your mind off of it.”

Suguru slowly began to move himself down, bringing his lips near her neck as he muttered, “I’m less of a headache anyways.”

“Ha-ha,” she drops her eyes down to him, “Cute. He said some mean things, I’m just irritated about it.”

She wasn’t expecting Suguru to play therapist, he wasn’t the type to ask too many details nor care about anyone’s feelings—he barely cared about his own. But she couldn’t help but ramble off at the mouth.

His lips traveled along her skin, moving further down her throat as he spoke, a small chuckle leaving his mouth, “Yeah? Y’all both act like fuckin’ children, always arguing over some stupid shit,” he muttered against her skin, “I think you’ll survive.”

“He thinks I came here to fuck you after fucking him,” she continues on, almost ignoring his lips along her neck, trying not to become annoyed with his deflection of the conversation.

Suguru lifted his head to look at her, his eyes meeting hers as he questioned, “You didn’t?”

Her eyebrows deepen, her elbows along the bed as she sits halfway up, “No? I came to give you your key-card back like you asked. Why would I do that? Who do y’all think I am?”

He chuckled at the look on her face, clearly seeing the offense in her expression. The tone of her voice only made him laugh a bit more.

Suguru shook his head slightly, leaning himself back down, “I’m just fuckin’ with you,” his lips returning to her skin once again, “You need to relax, baby.”

She watches his lips travel down her stomach, kissing along the skin as she exhales, “I’m serious. I’m not just some hoe that wants to fuck on the both of you.”

“I never said that. Dumbass probably has a crush,” Suguru suggests, tongue dragging along the skin of her hip.

“And you don’t?” She raises an eyebrow.

He raises an eyebrow in response to her question, “I don’t get those.”

She wasn’t sure why something in her chest shifted at his response. Maybe she liked the idea of two men crushing on her, but she knew Suguru wasn’t the emotional type. She would’ve never expected Toji to be one of his feelings, but maybe she was wrong about a lot of things.

She looks over his face, lip and eyebrow piercing shining beneath the lights, a handsome expression almost devilish to her.

She then shifted her body beneath him, watching as his lips trailed farther down her abdomen with a quiet sigh, “That’s too bad.”

He chuckled as she spoke, lifting his head to look her in the eye, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

He began moving himself further down her body, his lips now close to her thighs, “Are you disappointed?”

She subconsciously lifted her hips as he removed her shorts, his mouth now pecking along her inner thighs, the rush bringing a small chill up her spine.

Her breath hitches before she replies softly, “…No.”

Suguru dropped his face down, his fingers digging into the back of her thighs as he pushed her knees into the comforter beneath them. His warm breath tickles her core that glistens beneath the lowlights of the room.

“You’ sure?”

She leans herself against her elbows again, watching as he pushes her legs back farther, her knees on the sides of her as she shudders, “Suguru—“

His mouth is against her clit, dreadfully suckling it in between his lips. Her chest pangs, her heart pounding along her skin as his hands tightly trap her along the bed.

Her head feels like it’s spinning as she gasps, abdomen trembling as she says, “D—Didn’t come here to fu…oh.”

“Pull my hair out of the way. You know how to do it.”

She immediately obliged. Her fingers trembled as she pulled his hair out of his face, watching as his tongue dragged along the entirety of her, a grunt pulling from his mouth at the taste.

His hand gripped her thigh, his mouth stopping as he waited for a response. “Why are you here then?”

She should’ve held on just a bit longer—but she couldn’t help herself. She tugs at his hair, digging her teeth into her lip as she whimpers, “Needed you.”

His tongue continued to flick against her, raising his arm as he used it to trap her legs under him, watching as she clung to the bed. He chuckled as he heard her words, “That’s exactly what I thought.”

His mouth is demonic, the way he speaks—the way he eats. The slurping sound his lips create as he gives her core a deep kiss, he twists his head from side to side, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Suguru began to move his tongue a little faster as he then commanded, “Beg me to fuck you.”

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, “Stop it,” gripping his hair tighter, her legs somehow spreading wider.

His mouth was relentless, not letting up despite her pleas. His tongue flicked against her clit, teasing her before sliding down to her entrance where he gave her a long, slow lick. Suguru could feel her grip tighten in his hair, her legs spreading even further apart.

He kept his pace chaotic, his tongue swirling around her sensitive clit, dragging it up and down, tracing his mouth everywhere but her opening.

He grunts, “‘Should tongue fuck you, but I know what you want more.”

She continues clutching his hair in between her fingers, desperately trying to close her legs. Yet, she can’t help but watch. She glances all over the beauty of him, dark gauges within his ears, the coolness of his lip piercing connecting with her flesh, dark brows furrowed as he focuses on her. She wants to drown in his sight.

His tongue continued its assault on her clit, making sure to pay extra attention to every twitch and spasm it caused. He lifted one of his hands, bringing it down hard on her thigh, leaving behind a red handprint. “I know you fuckin’ heard me, beg.”

She gasps at the spank he gives her. Her eyes fluttering shut, swallowing down the embarrassment she feels as she says softly, “I want you to…fuck me,” shying away the moment the words release from her mouth.

A smirk made its way onto his face at her tone. He sat up to now hover above her, their faces so close to one another that he could hear the small whimpers that left her lips. He swirled his tongue into her mouth to kiss her. Her eyes shut at that, consuming the taste of herself. Suguru then took a grasp of her wrist, raising her hand as he pressed it above her head, bringing his other hand to grip above at the banister.

Her hips jump at the feeling of his tip grazing her clit, sliding down to her opening. She felt like she was underwater—holding her breath in as he slowly pushed himself into her, his voice almost in a mocking manner as he muttered, “Talk to me. Where’s all that fuckin’ mouth you have?”

He was mean, giving her no time to respond, instead choosing to thrust his hips, burying himself inside of her completely. He groaned deeply, feeling how tight she was wrapped around him.

“Suguru,” she whines out, his mouth above her own, her gasp being inhaled by his dark chuckles each time their hips connect, the banister beginning to screech along the wall.

His lips began to move from her ear down to her neck, gently trailing kisses against the skin. The sound of the bed banging against the wall was now echoing throughout the room as he continued to move his hips, “Ooh, fuck, baby. Say my name like that again. I love that shit.”

It was like her brain was melting , her eyes nearly in the back of her head as she dumbly admitted in a broken moan, “I came here to fuck you, baby,” crying softly as she gripped him by his back, pulling him closer to her as she panted out, “Don’t stop…”

Suguru lifted himself away from her neck, bringing his face back up to look down at her, “Was that so hard to admit, huh?” gripping her by her throat, placing his thumb into her mouth, watching as she whimpered at that, sucking at his finger.

“Shut up,” her eyes close, “Just fuck me. Fuck me, baby. Fuck me.”

“That’s more like it,” he muttered, beginning to roughly move his hips as her mouth opened in response. His hand continued to hold her own arms in place, “You’re so pretty.”

Suguru chuckled as her legs wrapped around him, “So fuckin’ needy.”

Her phone rang beside her, the familiar name flashing against her screen—Toji. Suguru kneeled his face into her neck, lips by her ear as she clutched him closer, her legs trapped beneath his broad frame, the sound of their skin connecting causing a low sob to shudder from her lips, nails digging into his back.

Both of them ignored the name on the screen, Suguru continuing to hover over her body as the bed slammed against the wall. His lips were still near her ear as he muttered, “You’re gonna ignore that, right?”

His mouth continued to harshly move against her neck before he picked his head up again, “You’ better fuckin’ ignore it.”

She cried out, “Ughnnn—mmm!” embarrassingly bleating from her lips, instead of the answer she thought she was going to give.

He laughed above her, picking up his pace as he continued to hold her arms up above her head, “That’s it. I wanna hear more of that shit.”

He brought his lips back to her neck again, biting against the skin, “Or answer the phone. Let him hear me fuckin’ you. How good it feels, shit feels good, doesn’t it?”

Her ears could only listen to the banister hitting the wall so hard, the wood would have cried if it had emotions. She holds onto him by the nails clawing into her skin, pleasurable tears collecting in her ears as she nods her head, “Agh—yeah. So good. Sooo good.”

“Yeah?” He replied in a cocky manner.

“Yeah,” she gasped, “I’m…I—I’m gonna…oh…” she grips him closer than she ever has, pressing her mouth up to his as she begs, “Kiss me.”

At her words, he pushed his tongue into her mouth, holding her in place as he pressed himself firmly against her. Their mouths continued to move together as he began to move his hips faster and rougher than they were before, groans leaving his mouth as they broke apart for a moment, “Fuck. I’m gonna—“

He bit down on her lips again, “Tell me you’re about to cum.”

She gives him an even better response, hips nearly jerking away from him as she sobs out, desperately trying to grip his arm as he firmly holds her down. She whines against his face as he talks filthy to her, wanting her to feel every second of her orgasm.

He continued to press himself against her while she came, “Oh shittt, baby,” squirming beneath his hands as he groaned, “Nah, fuck all that. Cum on my dick.”

She whimpered as her body relaxed, shuddering as her legs trembled from the heavy orgasm he gave her. Her head kneeled against the bed, her eyes still shut as she panted heavily.

He continued to watch her, panting himself—But he wasn’t done yet. Suguru gripped her chin with his fingers, lifting her head to meet his eyes, “Look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, listening to her demise as he told her, “We’re not done yet. Turn over, arch your back.”

It was gonna be a long night.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

SHE COULDN'T GET THIS DAMN CROOK OUT HER NECK. When the next day came, Sweetie stretched across from Bubbles, trying to prepare for practice with the rest of the girls. She watched as the men slid around the ice within the rink not too far from their mat, also practicing but more so playing around with their coach too busy on the phone.

Sweetie groaned as she felt a soreness in her lower back, bending forward as she asked her friend, “How are you so flexible? It’s like a talent or something.”

Bubbles chuckled at her words, watching as the men continued to mess around on the ice, she replied, “I’m double jointed,” placing her leg up on the bench, stretching it out, “Y’all just don’t got it like me.”

“God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a fuckin’ bus,” Sweetie mutters to herself.

“Hm, and did a bus hit you last night? Since you somehow didn’t make it up to my room like you said you would,” Bubbles tilts her head.

Sweetie halts from stretching her neck, holding her hand along her own shoulder as she raises an eyebrow, “You’ tryna’ be funny right now?”

Bubbles chuckled at her response, a smirk growing on her face as she continued, “No need to be defensive.”

She stood up straight, crossing her arms as she looked back over at her, “Where’d you really go?”

Sweetie sighs as she looks out to the ice, seeing Toji sat out on the bench as he watches practice, face stoic as usual.

She looks back to her friend as she says, “Me and Toji got into it.”

Bubbles now watched Toji too, his usual expression still intact on his face as he continued to sit on the bench. At her words, she quickly moved her head back around to look at her, “What? You’ guys fought?”

“It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I…” she stops herself, rolling her eyes as she admits, “I think you might’ve been right about your little hypothesis.”

A smirk once again made its way onto Bubbles face, her arms still crossed as she chuckled, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

She watched as Toji sat on the bench, expression not changing, her eyes glancing back over to her friend, “So I was right, huh? That dude’s in love with your ass?”

“Not exactly. I just don’t think he’s a fan of sharing me with his bestie anymore,” she glances to Suguru who’s on the ice, the good looking bastard laughing with his other opponents as they talked shit to each other, long hair in a bun, tendrils falling along his face. The same way it was when he—

“I mentioned going to Suguru’s room, and he snapped at me. Asked if I was going to fuck him, then kicked me out.”

Bubbles nodded in response, taking her words into consideration as she watched Suguru on the ice, “Ahh, yeah I could see that happening. That’s crazy though.”

“I didn’t think he would. I went to Suguru and tried to talk to him about it, but Mr. Unemotional completely deflected my conversion, and instead ate me out and fucked me until I wasn’t even thinking about it,” she leaned along the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

“Of course he did,” Bubbles responded. Her lips twitched, trying not to smile at her, “Toji’s gonna need some time. He gets all pouty like that. And Suguru always acts like that, you can’t expect him to ever talk about his feelings.”

“It’d be nice if both of them were head over heels for me, maybe I’d feel like a princess or something. Unfortunately I am just pussy to one of them,” she sighs, almost disappointed at the thought.

“Can’t have your cake and eat it too, hm?” Bubbles teased.

“Not at all.”

“Cheer up, at least we have this outing tonight. Both coaches are going out of town for a meeting, so the boys are taking us out to the bar! Aren’t you excited?”

“To be with a bunch of drunk hockey players?” She raises her head, “Not in the slightest.”

Bubbles chuckled as she continued to talk, “Oh c’monnn. It’ll be fun. You can get drunk, shake that fat ass,” she nudged her shoulder with her own, “It’ll be good to get out with the team for a while.”

She looked back to the boys on the ice, “Besides, I think you could use a night out. After that whole fiasco with Toji.”

“For him to get drunk and kick me in the chest ? Yeah, sure. Sounds like Disneyland,” she says, Bubbles chuckling as she returns to her stretching.

When the night finally arrives, Sweetie takes this time to find something cute to wear, most of the time being under the force of her uniform. Both teams agree to the silly idea of dressing in children’s pajama pants, choosing their favorite childhood character. Sweetie stares in the mirror as she wears a pair of pink hello kitty shorts, her ass poking out from the bottom with a white baby tee, clips in her hair with furry boots to match. Bubbles stands beside her, matching kuromi shorts and a black baby tee.

Her teammates playfully listen to music and dance together in her hotel room, her energy too low to join in on the fun. She feels a nudge come beside her as she sees Bubbles, holding a bottle of Don Julio.

“Sure there isn’t poison in that?” She tilts her head at her, Bubbles rolling her eyes as she says, “Girl, drink this before I shove it up your ass.”

She opens her mouth to let the shot be poured in, throwing it back into her throat, the liquid practically burning her insides. She almost feels it instantly. A deep breath releases from her as she thinks—she did need to stop moping around and enjoy her night.

She cheers herself up, pulling Bubbles into the group of girls as they sing along to the music, dancing all around her room until it’s time to go.

When they meet up with the men at the bar, they all giggle as they fully follow through with their idea. They all wear solid colored T-shirts, pants varying from SpongeBob, Courage the Cowardly Dog, even to Mickey Mouse. The bar is noisy as they all order drinks. But with the shot in her system, Sweetie feels good. Maybe one more shot wouldn’t hurt. She downs another, the burn not as bad as before. Maybe another wouldn’t hurt either.

An hour goes by, and she was now giggly, playing around with her friend as music blared around the building. She laughs as one of the guys from the team spun her and Bubbles around to dance with him, finally enjoying their time together without their coaches.

A lot was on Toji’s mind to say the least. He felt like he’d been in limbo the past twenty-four hours, the conversation between him and Sweetie never leaving his mind. He felt bad for how he spoke to her, but he just wanted to understand where their relationship stood. Did she care about him more than just the time they spent together? He couldn’t tell.

Suguru was the complete opposite. His mind was careless, thinking about the bottle of beer he held within his hand. His eyes scanned over to the side of the bar where the girls stood around, crowding the dj’s booth as they requested song after song. He eyed Sweetie, who was the lesser of shy tonight, dropping her hips and swaying upwards, serenading the music as the other girls followed with her. When he noticed some of his teammates watching her with arousal, something in his eye twitched. Something.

Toji leaned against the bar next to Suguru who downed the rest of beer, distracting himself as he talked to his teammate. He watched Sweetie. She wouldn’t stop giggling towards his teammate that talked to her.

What the fuck was so funny?

He didn’t know exactly what she’d been drinking, but he knew it was something strong enough to have her giving her flirtatious eyes, hooded as she spoke with a natural sultriness.

“You’ good?” Suguru questions, tilting his second beer bottle up to his lips, noticing his friend's attitude.

“Good as fuck.” Toji replies in a somewhat bitter tone, never removing his eyes from her.

Suguru then sees where he’s staring. He then tells him, “You’re a shitty liar,” as he takes another sip, watching her dance as well. His eyes narrow, trying to understand why he wasn’t entertained as he states, “She’s uh…enjoying herself.”

Toji clenched his jaw, “I see that.”

Despite his own discretions, he’s not in the mood for his friend’s tantrums. “‘Fuck are you so pissy for? Coach isn’t on our ass, and you got’ beautiful women all around you. Maybe you need pussy or some shit.”

Toji looked at him, a frown taking place on his face, “Nah, I’m good. Just need some more beer.”

He continues to drink, feeling himself becoming equally tipsy. His thoughts continue to scramble—why hadn’t she spoken to him since their argument? Did she miss him? Was she thinking about him as much as he thought about her?

A fourth bottle encourages him to have the confidence to go up to Sweetie who sits at the bar, curves enticing him as she arches herself towards the bartender, talking to him with an almost dreamy sigh to her tone. He wanted to choke her. Or fuck her. Probably both.

Bubbles mutters, “Uh-oh,” as Toji comes over.

Instead of him crashing out like Sweetie expected him to, he’s the calmes he’s ever been. He asks, “Can I come get my sweatshirt from you tonight?”

She blinks at that. He was good with his approach, but if she didn’t immediately hear an apology, she wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit. Her eyes scan down to the Nightmare Before Christmas pajama pants he wears. She says briefly, “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

Toji looks at her, the liquor going straight to his head as he leaned onto the counter with one hand, “Nah, I want it tonight.”

The alcohol made him bold. The way she had herself perched on the stool made it even worse. His eyes flicked down to her hips, seeing as they were completely visible.

It’s right on cue, Suguru coming to rescue his friend that had an equally bad mouth on him, if not worse. If Sweetie wasn’t annoyed, she would’ve giggled at the Coraline pajama pants he wore. Suguru also knew he was pumped up with beer, but unlike Toji, he wasn’t the type to cause a scene in public.

He comes up as he asks Sweetie, “You’ good, pretty?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him, “Get your friend. He’s drunk.”

“I’m good as fuck,” Toji repeats, “I’m not a fuckin’ child.”

“Then be an adult and get the fuck away from me!” She exclaims, her friend behind her having a worried look along her face, also knowing that Sweetie was equally as drunk.

Suguru then says, “Baby, get some water. You’re drunk.”

“Fuck off, you ain’t my damn daddy!”

Suguru’s soft tone drops, “And you’re not my child. So fuckin’ act like it.”

When he goes to grab for her, she yanks away as she says, “What? Tryna’ tell me what to do like your stupid ass friend? You know what? You’re right—I am drunk!”

At this moment, the other girls are also a bit tipsy, beginning to climb atop of the bar as they dance to the music playing, men whistling below them as the team cheers them on. She follows after, catching her weight as she begins to sway her hips, dropping down as she rubs her hands along her body. To be as drunk as she was, she carried herself well, an intelligence as dangerous as a sober person.

Toji could practically feel the veins in his arms throbbing. Suguru had a tight grip on his shoulder, equally glaring. Usually, Toji was the action, Suguru the mouthpiece. But their roles had switched. This was all it took.

Both men made sure the show was coming to an end. Sweetie squeaked as she felt a hand grip around her arm, yanking her down back onto the ground. Suguru began dragging her towards the front door, Toji directly behind him as they pulled her outside.

It’s slightly cold, Sweetie able to see her breath as she yanks away from him, swaying as she exclaims, “Get the fuck off me!”

When she fully tugs away, Suguru then says, “‘Fuck are you doing the extra shit for? Showing your ass in front of a bar?”

“Why do you care, Suguru? What happened to you not having any feelings for me, huh? Remember? You don’t have those?”

He knew she was right, but he never responded to it, not wanting to give her any satisfaction.

Toji was getting increasingly irritated, clenching his fist as Suguru gripped her again, holding her against him firmly, “We’re taking you back to your room. You’re clearly too drunk. You’re getting on my last bullshit nerves.”

“Fuck you,” she spits, “Fuck both of you. Acting as if you’re some emotionless bastards, now look at you—angry over a girl you’re supposed to just be fucking, dancing on top of a bar, just like any other bitch standing inside!”

The way she carelessly speaks to both of them, Suguru feels himself becoming angry in a way that he never did before. He didn’t know how to handle the emotions he felt—his words retracted from his mouth before he thought about them.

“Maybe I don’t wanna see the girl I’m fucking with get the eyes of anyone else!”

Sweetie flinches back. She didn’t even have time to react, Toji catching their attention as he narrowed his eyes, “‘The fuck do you mean by that?”

Suguru didn’t respond, his lips remaining in a tight line. The alcohol was making them all say things they would’ve left out had they been sober.

“Nothing.”

Suguru avoided eye contact with the both of them. He was starting to sober up, realizing what he’d actually said.

Sweetie narrows her eyes between the two, realizing where this was going. She says, “You know what? Y’all can both go to hell. You can fuck each other for all I care.”

She turns around as she drunkenly trudges back towards the door of the bar, poking her tongue out as she blows a raspberry, smacking her own ass before pointing the middle finger at them.

Both men stood dumbfounded, unsure of who to be mad at in this entire situation. They’d figure that out once they sobered up.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧚

THE NEXT MORNING was essentially a resting period for everyone. The coaches wouldn’t be returning until that night, preparing the team for the rivalry game they had coming up, meaning everyone’s head needed to be on a swivel.

Sweetie had been in bed most of the day, her mind on one thing—her phone was entirely silent. No call, no text from anyone. She couldn’t lie, it scared her.

The team practiced separately from the girls this time, which meant she still hadn’t seen, nor spoke to either Suguru or Toji. She didn’t see anything of them up until that night, the crowd completely full as it was their rival team, the audience set for a game like no other.

Toji and Suguru had been avoiding each other for a majority of the day, trying to recollect their minds on the events that had occurred the night before. They both knew they were starting to catch feelings, but neither wanted to confront it, keeping their distance from each other.

Tonight’s game was a rather important one. The two teams were on equal footing, neither one being better than the other. Everyone was present in the stadium, the stands packed to the brim with attendees.

There was still a great amount of tension between Suguru and Toji, neither of them saying much to each other if it wasn’t about their plays within the game. Sweetie continued to cheer on the outside of the ice with her team, putting on a fake smile as she tried to take her mind off everything.

Once the game began, the girls shook their pom poms together, giving encouragement as the puck hit the ice. Sweetie could tell Toji wasn’t playing to his best ability, his head clearly somewhere else. Unlike Suguru who swept through the floor effortlessly, getting the team their first score, their rivals seething from how quick it happened.

After that first score, the pace of the game picked up, the teams starting to get more aggressive the longer it went on. Toji kept struggling, playing more sluggishly and making more mistakes than usual, constantly missing the puck.

Suguru was doing most of the work at the moment, trying to ignore how shitty Toji had been playing all night. As the time ticked down, the end of the second period drew near.

The score wasn’t too bad, but Toji’s playing was still not what anyone expected, even himself. The teams all skated off the ice for the end of the second period, Toji ripping off his helmet and throwing it at the wall as he sat on the bench towards the front. Suguru was now becoming more frustrated, not having time for his tantrums.

The coach did his usual digging in everyone’s ass, —especially Toji’s—sending them back onto the ice with an enraged tone. Toji quickly picked up his helmet, placing it back over his head as he got in place along the ice.

Suguru passes by him, saying in a harsh tone, “Get your fuckin’ head out your ass.”

Toji turned, “What?” eyebrows now furrowed deeply.

“You heard me.” Suguru replies, “You’re playing like an ass. If you got some sort of problem going on in that thick ass skull of yours, take it somewhere else until we’re off the ice. You’re causing us to be two goals behind.”

Toji could feel himself becoming more angry. He wanted to keep himself calm, not wanting to get into it with someone he considered a friend. But if he didn’t give a fuck, why would he?

“Fuck you,” he spat, “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of these fucking idiots, Getou. I’ll punch your fuckin’ mouth straight.”

Suguru let out a scoff, turning to him as he replied, “Don’t act like a fuckin’ child, Fushiguro. I don’t wanna hurt your sissy ass feelings. We’re behind because you can’t focus. It’s no one’s fault but your own. Get your shit together.”

“Sissy?” Toji seethes, “You’re an undercover bitch, I saw that all last night. Save the stupid shit for Sweetie and fuck off.”

Hearing those words wasn’t something that Suguru expected to set him off— but it did. And it all happened so fast.

He swung forward, throwing a punch so crushing that it knocked Toji’s helmet off, catching him off guard as he slammed into the ground while Suguru hovered on top of him.

The pain surged through half of his head, his ears ringing. The anger that had been building up over the past few weeks had finally exploded into one massive blow. His vision blurred, and that’s when he saw it— rage taking over.

Toji felt himself get up from the ground, rushing back at Suguru and tackling him onto the ground, throwing a punch at his jaw.

The crowd gasped into shock, the other half cheering. Sweetie’s eyes went wide as she gasped, “Holy fucking shit,” watching as the two large men nearly tried to kill one another.

Their bodies slammed into each other, the two rolling around on the floor as they continued to throw punches, trying to take the other out as much as possible. Every impact sounded painful. Blow. Blow. Blow.

The referees, even the coaches scattered onto the ice, no skates and all, pulling the two apart. Neither of them looked physically hurt, matching up to each other in weight class, nearly needing three to four men to break each of them up.

Even players from the other team were trying to break them up as best they could, everyone watching in pure disbelief at what was taking place. Toji was practically fuming, yelling curses at Suguru as he wrestled with the men who held him from behind. In that moment of complete anger, everything he’d been holding back for the last few weeks spilled out.

Bubbles looks at Sweetie, her eyebrows raising as she expects her to say something, yet her friend says nothing at all. She was in complete shock herself.

The game continues without them. Sweetie was unable to get her mind off of the two men fighting—she felt like it was her fault. Their team had unfortunately lost to their rivals without their best players, everyone knew they were probably somewhere getting chewed out by their coach.

Both coaches ordered a curfew for the team, everyone now being locked in their hotel rooms. Sweetie paces in Bubbles’ room, nearly about to chew her nails off as her friend scolded her for the entire situation.

“How could you let it get this bad?”

Sweetie frowns at her, “Me? I didn’t make them fight, Bubbles! I didn’t even know they were that mad at each other.”

“But you’re the reason they fought,” she pointed out.

“If this is you tryna’ mom me, I don’t wanna hear it. I didn’t think this would happen, okay?”

She slumped down on a nearby bed, burying her face in her hands. “I just….. didn’t think it would end up like this. They were literally tryna’ tear each other apart. I thought they’d just ignore each other and move on.”

Bubbles sighed, “You really haven’t spoken to them since the bar fight?”

Sweetie shook her head, “Neither of them called me. They probably hate me. Probably think I’m some slut that ruined their friendship.”

“You’re not a slut, and you didn’t ruin their friendship. They’re two idiots who need to learn how to control themselves,” she said, sitting beside her, “But you know what the real problem was?”

“No,” she lied, already knowing where this was going.

Bubbles raised an eyebrow, her tone going from light to serious, “The problem is that they both have feelings for you.”

“That’s not the point of this,” Sweetie mutters.

Bubbles says, “Fine. So let’s get to the real point, do you have feelings for them?”

She turns her head, blinking at the question. She’d never really thought about it. But as she sat on that, she realized that she enjoyed both of them in different ways, there wasn’t one that she liked more, and that was the problem.

She scratches her arm as she comes to the conclusion, “…I like both of them,” admitting it softly.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Cry? Get my head back on a swivel, stop fucking my co-workers and focus on my dancing. I don’t want any of us to lose our jobs because of stupid drama,” she admits, “I just wanna go to bed. Coach is gonna fry my fuckin’ ass if she knew this was about me.”

“That’s probably the smartest thing to do,” Bubbles agreed, “But you can’t keep avoiding them.”

“I can try,” she mutters, “I’m gonna take a shower and try to get some sleep. Can I stay here?”

“Of course. You know you don’t have to ask,” Bubbles rubbed her arm, giving her a weak smile.

She pulled her friend into a hug for the advice, deciding to lock herself within the bathroom, hoping a shower would clear her head. This was a rough situation.

The shower took her mind off of most of her problems, releasing her hair from the shower cap she wears as she plans to wrap it before going to sleep. Just as she’s doing her nightly routine, her phone buzzes. She glances over at the screen as she reads the text.

suguru’s emo ass:

we need to talk. come to my room.

She blinks at the message, a frown coming to her face. Hesitantly, she replies back.

me:

now?

She began drying her hair, debating on whether to respond or not. Going back and forth in her head, the phone pings again, displaying—

suguru’s emo ass:

hurry up.

His tone was completely different—more firm. He wasn’t asking, he was telling her to come to his room.

It was now late, Bubbles already dozing off along the bed. Sweetie looks at her purse as she realizes she had taken Suguru’s key-card again. Throwing their team's sweatshirt over her head and house slippers, she runs her fingers through her hair as she makes her way up to the third floor, quiet as she goes to his door.

His lights were on this time, Sweetie turning to shut the door behind herself. When she turned back around, she halted.

Both Toji and Suguru were sitting in the room.

She leaned her fingers against the knob as she looked between them, unsure of what to do or say. The two men had been sitting in silence, neither of them saying a word for at least ten minutes. Neither were injured from their fight. Both of their gazes fixated on her.

“Lock the door behind you,” Suguru tells her.

She hesitates for a moment. With an exhale, she locks the door before she takes a step forward, arms crossing over her chest.

The first thing she asks is, “You’ guys okay?”

Toji was the first to reply, replying with a grunt as his eyes remained focused on her, “We’re fine.”

Suguru patted the empty spot between the two of them, “Come sit,” he ordered.

“I’m fine standing here,” she tells him, “Say what you want to talk about.”

Both men didn’t take kindly to her going against their orders, Toji saying, “Don’t be stubborn, come sit.”

Suguru was the less blunt one, trying not to seem too demanding, “We need to discuss what’s going on. That would be easier if all of us were sitting.”

She looked between the two again, neither of them budging from their statement. She rolled her eyes. With a cross to her arms, she sits between them, posture perfect as she tries to make sure they didn’t touch her.

Suguru broke the silence, looking at her, “This relationship we have going on between the three of us, this shit isn’t working anymore.”

“You two beat each other's asses in front of thousands of people on account of me,” she points out, “It definitely isn’t working.”

“That’s because this fuckin’ idiot couldn’t keep his temper in check,” Toji comments as his gaze shifts to Suguru, his eyes narrowing.

“Shut up, dumbass. We’re trying to avoid an argument here,” he snaps, annoyed in his tone, “We already hashed our shit.”

“I know that.”

“What’s there to clear on my end then, Suguru? This all started because you declared you didn’t want to share me. If anything, you need to talk to Toji—who essentially started this because he’s emotional,” Sweetie tries to deflect.

Toji couldn’t help but let out a scoff at that, a small smirk going on his face, “Of course you blame me,” he says sarcastically.

Suguru smacks his lips, “There’s more to it than that. You know that.”

“I’m not blaming you,” she says to Toji, “I’m saying that y’all need to kiss and make up. This doesn’t have shit to do with me.”

Toji lets out a scoff again, “You’re the only thing it’s about, are you really acting that fuckin’ dense?”

“Who the fuck are you calling dense?” She stands from the bed, standing over Toji who doesn’t fall back either as he replies, “Who the fuck else am I talking to?”

Suguru shoots them a look, “Cut the stupid-shit out—Both of you. It’s not helping.”

Suguru turns, looking directly at Sweetie, “This is something that involves all of us. Don’t try to distance yourself from this.”

“This is why we can never get anywhere,” she goes back to Toji, “ You’ got a fighting ass mouth, and that’s why you’re always getting socked in it!”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Toji mutters, hand coming over his face, “Your mouth is just as bad.”

The both of them continue to go back and forth, Suguru once again feeling in the middle. But he was right about one thing—this was childish.

Sweetie halts herself from arguing with Toji, pulling back as she says, “Wait. Stop. We are being stupid,” she crosses her arms over her chest again, thinking to herself to solve this somehow.

“Can we…try something?”

They both blink at her question, slightly tilting their heads at her words. Toji has a raised eyebrow, while Suguru looks at her with a curious expression, “Try what?”

“We used to do this in my family where we’d turn away from each other and explain our feelings. That way tones of voice, expressions, they weren’t taken out of context and started arguments. I think that’ll be better here, yeah? Can we do that?” She asks, slender eyes switching between the two.

They both go silent, looking at one another before looking back at her. They’re silent for another few moments, taking her suggestion into consideration.

Toji nods, “Yeah. Okay.”

Suguru hesitantly nods, “If it gets you two to stop getting at each other's throats, fine.”

All three of them sit on opposite ends of the bed, turned away from each other. It’s silent for a couple of minutes, each mind trying to find the right words.

Sweetie says, “I’ll uh…go first.”

All of their interactions seem to wrack her brain at this moment. She doesn’t feel entirely wrong in this situation, but she knew where her faults came in.

“I’m sorry—to the both of you. I didn’t mean to cause this type of tension between two friends. Even if you told me that it was okay, I should’ve never done this to begin with.”

Both of the men sat silently, listening intently as she began speaking. Toji had a hard expression on his face. Suguru had a more thoughtful look, taking in her words. He wanted to say something, but he knew it wasn’t his turn yet, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I also want to apologize to you separately as well. Toji…I um, I’m sorry, really. I don’t want to jump to conclusions about your feelings for me, but it feels like…more than sex for you. I care about you, and…I like you, a lot. You’re sweet. Without all the fighting and stuff. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings, it was easier to leave those conversations floating in the air,” she says quietly, softly to him.

Toji tenses up at her words, a small warmth forming on his face. His expression remains the same, though internally he was feeling a mix of different things—annoyance, anger, but a small sense of happiness to hear her speak those words.

“I care about you too.”

She turns towards him—although that wasn’t a part of the exercise—“You don’t like me?”

He didn’t reply for a few moments, just looking at the wall before he finally said, “You already know the answer to that,” he says, “Don’t ask stupid shit.”

She turns back towards her wall, hands in her lap as she says quietly, “Okay.”

She then takes another breath as she says, “Suguru…I want to apologize for putting you in a complicated situation, but I’m not gonna apologize for my feelings for you. You said yourself you weren’t the relationship type, so it was hard to understand you. And what you said at the bar…I think it made things complicated for me.”

Suguru remains silently sitting, listening to each of her words. He felt a pang of guilt within his chest at her tone. He hated how upset she sounded. But he tried to keep his expression neutral, no matter how badly he just wanted to reach out and comfort her.

She was right about that, and he knew it. He wasn’t the relationship type, so why did seeing her with Toji bother him so much? Why did his blood boil that she also liked him too?

“You’re not wrong either,” he says quietly, “It made shit more complicated for me as well.”

“I’m not exactly sure what you want from me,” she looks down to her lap, “But I…I like you just as much as I like Toji. So,” she leaves it at that, awkwardly twiddling her thumbs.

That had been a little hard for him to hear, especially being put next to Toji like that. He wasn’t angry. But not towards her. He was never truly upset with her through this whole thing, he was upset with himself for putting himself in this situation in the first place.

He doesn’t reply right away, simply sitting there. Then, he spoke in a low voice, not turning to look at her, “And if I said I wanted more with you?”

She kept her head down, tongue in her cheek as she breathed out, “I don’t know.”

Now it was his turn to be frustrated, letting out an annoyed huff as he ran a hand through his hair. Nothing was ever going to be that easy when it came to her.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know?’” He repeats, “Answer the damn question.”

She turns her head, seeing as they both keep their faces to the wall. She frowned, “I don’t know, okay? I like both of you. It sounds fucked up, but it’s the way I feel.”

His jaw tensed up, his annoyance and irritation towards the entire situation reaching its peak. He didn’t turn to face her, keeping his back towards her as he spoke, “So what is it then? You’re just going to keep fuckin’ the both of us?”

She fully turns, seeing as neither of them look at her. It almost makes her want to cry. She scoots closer to Suguru, feeling that he’s more frustrated than her or Toji.

She places her hand along his back as she says, “I wouldn’t do that.”

He tenses up when she scoots closer, not expecting her to touch him, let alone place a hand on his back. Her touch is oddly comforting for him, despite how frustrated he was. But he tried his best not to show it.

“Then what would you do?” He asked, finally turning his head just slightly to glance at her.

She blinks at him, glancing in between both him and Toji who still looks to the wall. She felt equal emotions for both of these men.

Her mind goes blank for a moment, her thoughts pushing into something she would’ve never expected herself to do. Without thinking too much about it, she climbs along Suguru’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she says softly to him, “Kiss me.”

His eyes widen at her actions, watching as she moves to climb into his lap. She felt good on top of him, her body pressed tightly against his. He could feel her heat, along with her breath against his skin as she leaned close to speak.

But shockingly, he didn’t hesitate this time. He kisses her.

This kiss was different from any kiss she and Suguru shared, always lustful and primal. This was full of passion, tongues colliding together as she dug her fingers through his hair, lightly grinding her hips along his lap.

He inhaled deeply, his hands going up to her thighs as her hips began moving against him. She was driving him absolutely insane, and they were only kissing.

He broke the kiss, his lips still just inches away from hers as he gruffly said, “Jesus, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me like that,” He mutters against her lips.

Her mind moved a thousand miles a second. She breathily sighed, pulling back from him. Suguru leaned forward to kiss her again—except, she swiftly crawled off of him, making her way to the other end of the bed on all fours.

She repeated herself, hoisting along Toji’s lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck as she asked, “Still mad at me?”

Toji’s body equally tenses up as she climbs on his lap, his hands reflexively going to her waist to keep her from falling. He doesn’t reply immediately, hesitating before he responds, “Not when you’re sittin’ on me like that,” he grumbles, “But yeah, I’m still kinda pissed with you.”

She sees Suguru watching, a look on his face she couldn’t read. She brings her eyes back to Toji as she asks him, “Do you want me?”

Toji’s hands tightened around her waist when she asked that question, his gaze completely focused on her now as they spoke, “That a real question?”

His eyes darted to her lips for a moment, before going back to her eyes. “You know I do,” he mutters, “I want you, I need you.”

“Show me, then,” she flicks her eyes to Suguru, “Both of you.”

Toji’s hands slid beneath her sweater, his touch light against her bare skin as he looked at her with a hint of hunger in his eyes. “You’ sure about that?” He asks, voice low.

She nods her head, pulling him forward, brushing her lips against his as she says softly, “Yeah.”

And at that confirmation, it was like a dam had been opened.

Toji’s tongue pushes into her mouth forcefully, not having any interest in taking things slow. He wanted her.

His hands move up her abdomen, roaming over every curve and dip of her body. He groans lowly into the kiss, wanting nothing more than to have her wrapped completely around him.

His kiss was even more distracting than Suguru’s, melting away her thoughts in seconds, almost like a trance. He was always more tender with her, but she could feel him trying to hold back, his nails digging into her hips. She hadn’t realized Suguru making his way to their side of the bed, up until she felt fingers digging into her scalp, a soft gasp coming from her lips as he tugged her head back, latching his own lips onto her mouth. Toji’s own lips are now sucking the skin of her throat. The feeling of them trying to be gentle with her made her breath heavy, unable to find somewhere to put her hands, not knowing where to touch.

Toji continues, sucking and biting as he nips his way down her throat, leaving behind multiple hickey’s in the process. She tasted so good, her skin was so soft, he can’t get enough of this.

Suguru still had a hold on her hair, and now he used it to pull her head back further, wanting access to her throat as well.

“You’re supposed to be paying attention to me,” he murmurs against her neck.

She gasps at his words, his hand twisting her hair in his palms, both lips upon her neck in a way that felt overwhelming. But something in her felt…defiant.

Her face came down as she met with Toji’s mouth, pushing her tongue past his lips as she grazed her fingers along his body, pulling at his shirt for him to remove it, giving him the attention Suguru commanded for.

He tightens his hold on her hair, keeping her in a firm grasp. He groans lowly at the sight of her making out with Toji, the sound coming out as a near growl.

His free hand begins roaming over her, slowly lifting the sweatshirt up her body. He was tempted to just rip it off, but something told him to take his time. He wanted to draw this out, he wanted to see how worked up he could get her.

With the hold still along her hair, Suguru lightly tugged her back, mouth hovering over hers as he asked, “You’ tryna piss me off?”

She sultrily giggles along his mouth as she says, “Maybe.”

With that, he pulls her into a rough kiss, tongue practically fucking her mouth as he then commands to her, “Open your mouth since you want him so badly.”

Her thoughts were just as filthy. She wanted to show just how badly she wanted them—the both of them. She’s already reaching for Toji’s sweatpants, releasing his length from beneath his boxers, greedily attaching her mouth along his tip, causing him to grunt at the feeling.

Sweetie wraps her mouth around him, his hands instinctively reaching for her face, caressing her jaw. His eyes close for a moment as he enjoys the sensation, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily.

Suguru keeps his eyes down to watch her, grip of her hair still in his hold as he tells Toji, “Fuck up her throat.”

She feels as Toji takes hold of her jaw and cheek, mouth stretching as she tries to fully take him, almost struggling as she does so.

Suguru leaned forward, “Don’t act fuckin’ shy now, you wanna play, so show me what the fuck I’m missing.”

Sweetie moans against Toji’s tip, wrapping her free hand around the base of him, coating him with her saliva as she slaps him along her tongue, keeping her eyes against his gray one’s.

Toji’s breathing becomes heavier, his grip tightening around Sweetie’s hair as he begins thrusting into her mouth. The wet sounds of their actions fill the room, along with Sweetie’s muffled moans.

Suguru watches intently, occasionally running his fingers through her pink hair, encouraging her to take more of Toji inside of her mouth.

“Like that?” She asks softly, bobbing her head up and down as slowly as she could, his length appearing and disappearing within her mouth, Toji’s head leaned back as he grunted, “Fuck, don’t do that,” which makes her giggle.

“Just like that, baby,” Suguru grunts, “That’s good.”

Suguru’s hand slides along her throat as he pulls her up to look at him, a dark chuckle coming from his lips. He leans down as he kisses her, holding her jaw within his palms as he spits into her mouth as he gruffly tells her, “Keep going.”

She continues, her jaw burning from the amount of movement she does, but it makes her all the more aroused. Seeing Toji’s eyes blown with lust, holding her face and caressing her jaw, he lightly slaps her face as he grunts, “Got a fuckin’ mouth on you, baby,” which makes her moan against him in response, pulling her mouth back as she works her hand against him, running her tongue along her lips.

Toji's eyes were wide open, watching her every move as she worked his dick in and out of her mouth. "Fuck...," he muttered, gripping tighter in her hair. "God damn, you're sexy."

She climbed farther along the bed, arching her back as she leaned down to take him deeper into her mouth, pulling him out as she attached her lips to the side of his dick, coating spit all around it, praising him affectionately.

She moans against him, “Such a pretty dick, baby. Love it, always.”

“Yeah?” He says lowly, “Keep fuckin’ sucking it, then.”

She complies, taking him back into her mouth, loving every second of pleasuring him. All the while, Suguru came behind her, pulling off the sweatshirt she wears, seeing the baby pink thong under the oversized material. He’s pressing kisses along her back, going to the back of her thighs, the feeling making Sweetie shudder lightly, nonetheless pushing her focus back to Toji.

She almost halts as Suguru pulls the material to the side, running his tongue along her core, dropping his lips back down to her clit, wrapping it under his mouth as he sucks. It causes her to press her thighs together, moaning lightly.

Toji watches her, his eyes growing lower with each sound she makes, each time she moves her head. He reaches down, grabbing onto her hair again, guiding her head so that he can thrust further into her mouth. "Damn, your mouth feels so fucking good," he growls out.

Suguru’s mouth latching in between her legs distracts her for a second. Her mouth pulls back as she softly moans again, wrapping her hand around Toji’s length to keep his pleasure going, now unable to focus. Suguru’s head bobbed up and down, a sloshing sound creating as he moaned into her, dipping his tongue in and out of her opening, fucking her with his mouth. She turns back to watch him, her eyes being caught as Toji pulls her face back towards him.

“Nah, keep sucking my dick. Nobody told you to stop.”

The pleasure Suguru begins to give her makes another moan fall from her lips, a short whimper in response, “Toji—“

“I don’t wanna hear that shit,” he grunts, “Open your mouth.”

She complies, taking him back into her mouth, trying to keep her eyes from fluttering shut as she jolts from Suguru’s palm slamming against her ass, pulling back as he moans, “Pussy tastes so fuckin’ good, baby. I could eat this shit forever.”

Toji takes control of the situation once more, his large hand cupping the back of her head as he starts thrusting into her mouth again. His other hand grips tightly onto her hair, keeping her head steady as he fucks her mouth. "Mmm," he groans, "You’re too fuckin’ perfect."

She pulls her mouth away as she feels Suguru spank her more harshly, pulling her hand back to get a hold of his hair as she whimpers, “Gonna make me cum, baby. Slow down.”

“That’ your spot, baby?” Suguru almost mocks her, seeing as she nearly pouts, nodding her head in agreement.

She suddenly feels Toji snatch her hands forward, gripping her wrists under his palms as he grunts, “Make her squirt on your face.”

Suguru’s dark chuckle rumbles against her core, diving his tongue in and out as he says, “She likes to be fucked like this, just by my mouth. Don’t you, baby?”

Her back arches, eyes nearly rolling back as he goes…extremely…slow, twisting his head side to side as he sticks his tongue out, rubbing it up and down, dragging it along her core before pushing it back into her walls. She gasps, legs trembling as she’s quick to do exactly what Toji knew she would, gushing along Suguru’s face effortlessly, shuddering heavily when another spank comes to her skin.

"Fuck..." Suguru groans, licking up the mess that Sweetie had made for him.

It was unfortunate that he didn’t feel satisfied, grunting, “Too fuckin’ sensitive. You’re gonna cum as many times as I want you to.”

He’s back at it, eating away at her as if he starved, like she was the last thing on earth he could consume. He’s French kissing her core, making out with her folds as he goes back down to her clit, suckling at it with a popping sound. Her eyes flutter shut as she attempts to pull away from Toji again, causing another spank to her skin. She had to be red by now.

Toji tsks her, “Let that shit feel good. Relax.”

“Toji,” she whimpered again, his reply being, “Stop calling me.”

When she pulls one of her hands free, Toji clasps them both again, now slamming them behind her back, pushing her back inward to give her more of an arch. He tells her, “He’ll eat your pussy until you fuckin’ cry. That’s what you want?”

She shakes her head, moaning out as Suguru spanks her again, drinking up her arousal as he grunts against her opening, spreading her inner thighs farther apart, practically diving his face into her.

"Fuck... I'm not stopping until she cums." Suguru grunted, the vibrations from his voice sending shockwaves through Sweetie's body. He continued to lick and suck at her pussy, using his fingers to spread her open even wider so he could feast on her without any obstructions.

Suguru's hands were planted firmly on either side of her, holding her in place while he ate her out. His tongue was relentless, exploring every nook and cranny of her wet folds.

Suguru's tongue delves deeper into her, curling up to hit that sweet spot inside of her. He hummed, the vibration shooting straight to her core and causing her to buck her hips against his face.

Meanwhile, Toji leaned down to capture one of her nipples between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug before letting go. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hot breath ghosting over her heated skin.

Her hands trapped behind her back only allows her to pull her upper body up by strength, Toji’s free hand palming at her breast, pulling them into his mouth as he grunted at the softness of them. She digs her teeth into her lip as she groans from the sensitivity, looking down to him as she warns with a gasp, “I’m gonna cum…”

With her warning, Suguru pulled away abruptly, leaving her panting and whimpering in protest.

He grunted, “C’mere,” pulling her backwards by the waist, lifting her up until she was standing on the edge of the bed. He then pushed her forward, so she was bent over with her ass in the air.

Toji scooted with him, Suguru now taking both of her wrists beneath his one hand, guiding her with the other as he pulled himself from his sweatpants, tip fat and heavy as it grazed her core. It was familiar to her.

Toji took a hold of her face as it all happened at once, Suguru slowly pushing his tip into her tight opening, stretching her in a way that felt like he hadn’t been there before.

Her eyes were blown, mouth lightly parting as Toji caught her lips against his own, moaning mockingly with her as she sucked in a breath, whimpering deeply before dragging out another moan, the pleasure blinding the pain that itched her in a erotic way.

She whimpered against Toji’s mouth so silent, she could barely hear herself as she muffled, “Oh my…god,” her eyes fluttering shut as Toji brushed his lips against hers, holding her face as he lowly muttered back, “Yeah, you cumming?”

She panted, almost as if she were falling into an asthma attack as she whimper back breathlessly, “I’m fuckin’ cumming, baby.”

“Yeah, just like that? From me putting my shit inside of you?” Suguru talks to her now, gripping her hip as he rolled his hip forward, pushing deeper into her.

She pushed him back, gushing out again, Suguru groaning as he spanked her, “Ooh, shit. That’s a good fuckin’ girl, baby.”

Sweetie moaned out, dragging the sound messily, embarrassingly, making music against Toji’s mouth, his hands upon her throat and face as he arrogantly smirked, watching her fall apart. He then made it worse, pressing his hand against her shoulder as he pushed her back again, the suction of air releasing from her folds as she moaned louder at that.

Toji kept his grip firm on her face, forcing her to watch him as Suguru began to thrust into her, their bodies slapping together each time he buried himself deep within. The sight alone was enough to make Toji harden again, his other hand moving to stroke himself as he watched.

"Shit, she's so tight," Suguru grunted, his pace picking up as he pounded into her, "Feels so fucking good."

"You should see this view," Toji said, smirking as he moved his hand faster, "It's amazing."

She cried softly, “Suguru…”

“What? You want me now?”

His hands on her shoulder, tilting her body slightly to the side as he snaps his hips, hitting her deepest spot, exactly where he knew she’d whine from. The whine comes directly after, body trembling, turning her eyes towards him, watching her ass clap against his abdomen as she whimpers, “A—Always want you, baby.”

Suguru chuckled, "I know you do. Pussy is gripping me like she can’t let go.”

Her eyes roll to the back of her head, senses gone as she talks, “Always been your pussy, baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeahhh,” she inhales deeply, almost creating a headache as her eyes stared into darkness, too busy being stuck in the back of her head.

“He fuckin’ you that good, huh?” Her voice hears Toji’s talking to her, his hand still upon her throat, other hand stroking himself, “Losing all your senses, baby?”

She looks down at him, shaking her head as she whimpers, “Miss you, Toji.”

“No you don’t.”

“I—I promise…” she brokenly moaned.

He leans himself back, “You promise? Come bounce on this dick and show me.”

“Nah, she’s gonna make me cum first,” Suguru says, gripping her hair again, pounding her harder, snapping his hips forward, Sweetie’s head practically spinning, no words falling from her lips.

“Wait to cum, gonna fuck her together,” Toji tells him, “She needs to come fuck me first. Prove all that shit she’s talking.”

Suguru looks down to her, seeing his dick being coated with her arousal. A dark laugh comes from him as he pulls out of her, spanking her again as she shudders.

Her legs feel like noodles as she crawls into the bed, climbing on top of Toji, placing herself on her knees. He shakes his head as he commands, “Put your feet flat on the bed.”

If she already wasn’t so tired, she’d roll her eyes. She listens nonetheless, placing her feet along the comforter, grabbing for his length as she leans herself on his leg, slowly sinking herself down into him. Her hips desperate quiver as the back of her thighs stick to his abdomen. His palms are on the skin of her ass, hoisting her up as he drops her down, her hand along his chest as she sucks air into her mouth, his movement hitting her cervix in a way that has her groan in pleasure.

Toji grunted under her, his hands squeezing her ass as she bounced on his lap. "Fuck, you're so wet," he growled, his hips bucking up to meet hers with every downward motion of hers.

She was. She could hear herself, squelching each time his tip was halfway in, quelling each time her ass clapped back down against his skin. He’s holding onto her hips as she mewls, the only thing she could do.

He talks in between each clap of her ass, “Keep…pulling my shit in like that…” he grunts, “You wanted to be fucked just like this. This is what you needed, huh baby?”

His hand travels up to her mouth, shoving his fingers in between her lips, pulling her down by her teeth. She sucks along his fingers as she nods, giving a whimper in return.

Suguru comes from behind, taking his middle and ring finger as he rubs in circles on her clit, Sweetie gasping as he says in her ear, “You’re too fuckin’ nice to her,” his other hand along her side, picking up her hips and dropping them down when he sees her slowing down.

Toji let out a low, guttural growl as he felt Suguru's hands helping move her hips. He looked up at her, his hands tightening as he began thrusting up into her, his movements growing faster and rougher. "Fuckin’ hell... Talk to be, baby. You’re too quiet."

Suguru kept rubbing her clit, his finger circling faster as he whispered in her ear, "Tell us how we're fucking you."

"I..." she panted, “Love bouncing on your dick, baby…” her grip tightening on his shoulders as she rode him. "It's filling me up so good..."

Suguru continued to rub her clit, his finger moving faster as he whispered in her ear, "That’s good baby, keep talking.”

She shakes her head, leaning back against Suguru as she whimpers, “Can’t. Gonna cum again…”

“Then cum again,” Toji grunts.

“Nah. Remember what you said,” Suguru reminds, Sweetie’s body jolting as she feels his thumb prodding at her other hole, a pleasure she hadn’t expected to rush over her, making her moan in a way she thought she wouldn’t.

His thumb pressed harder against her hole, pushing inside until he'd buried himself up to the first knuckle. "If you cum again, it’ll be from the both of us.”

Her body trembled as he spoke, the feeling of his thumb stretching her open making her whimper. She nodded frantically, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

"Good girl," Suguru murmured, his thumb continuing to push deeper into her. He leaned over, whispering into her ear, "You want me, don't you? You want us to fill you up?"

She nods her head, dropping herself down harder against Toji, “Need you too baby, so…fucking…horny…” she whimpers, grinding herself against his hips, unable to wait any longer.

Toji's thrusts grew even more forceful, his hands digging into her hips as he pounded up into her. "Ooh, fuck. She’s wet, she needs you," he groaned, his own climax coming close.

He could feel her becoming tighter, squeezing him in a way that he wasn’t sure he could handle. Suguru released her hands, Sweetie pulling Toji’s upper body up to be closer to hers, rotating her hips against his as she moaned against his mouth.

They kissed as they moved together, his hands gripping onto her ass tightly. He could feel his climax building—he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

Suguru moved his hand away from her, reaching down to align his tip with her hole. The silence between the three returned, Toji taking a hold of the side of her throat as he kept her eyes along his, lightly kissing her lips as he kept her relaxed. It was like a fire had aligned against her lower body, Sweeting wrapping her arms around Toji’s neck as she whimpered uncomfortably, Toji apologizing, “I know, baby. Give it a second.”

Suguru grunted, feeling as she clasps around him, bringing his hand around to clasp for her throat as well, lips along the back of her ear as he grunts, “You’re doing so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Toji's grip on her throat tightened as he held her there, his thrusts slowing down as he tried to give her time to adjust to the new sensation. He could feel his climax approaching quickly, his breathing heavy and ragged as he fought to hold back.

Meanwhile, Suguru slowly pushed into her farther, his fingers digging into her hip as he forced himself inside. "Fuck, you're so tight."

She felt like she was nearly going blind, her mouth parting open as she shuddered, “Oh my…” feeling as Suguru tilted her face to kiss her, sliding his tongue into her mouth as he pushed deeper, both of them moaning into each other's throats.

Suguru released her lips, giving her a couple more pecks as she shuddered out another moan. He gently grasped her neck as he pulled her down, giving her a slow and gentle thrust. She sucked in a breath, brushing her lips along his in return. She whines, so horny, “You can fuck me, want you to cum in me, Suguru.”

"You want me to cum in you?" Suguru asked, his thrusts growing faster and more desperate. He could feel his climax approaching quicker than he assumed.

Toji watched the two of them closely, his grip on her throat loosening as he felt her relax a bit. He was also close, his stomach flipping at the sight of her falling apart.

She nods her head, “Want you to cum in me,” she filthily says, “Wanna belong to you, and Toji.”

Toji begins moving his hips again as he talks to her, “Yeah? Say it like you mean it.”

“Wanna be yours,” she says to the both of them, both of them thrusting sending a shock wave to her, her body spazzing, sending her brain into a mush. Her eyes return to the back of her head as she begins grinding herself against the both of them, “Feels so…fucking good. Oh my god…”

"Say our names," Toji commanded, his thrusts getting faster and rougher as he listened to her moans. Suguru's thrusts became erratic as well, his grip on her hip tightening as he felt his climax near.

“Toji…” she kissed him, wrapping her tongue against his as she circled her hips against him, clawing her nails against his back. She then reached behind her as she pulled away from him, kissing Suguru as she arched her back, dropping her hips down against him from behind as she whimpered, “Suguru…”

Their moans escalated like a symphony, their heads kneeled along her shoulder, moans, grunts, it all broke through their lips in shock waves. Sweetie’s body trembled as a groan forced out of her throat, sobs and mixtures of weak screams enveloping her lips. They followed after her, grunting as they both released inside of her, kisses masking along her skin from two pairs of lips.

She felt breathless, emotions heightened as she panted against them. Her face felt warm, fingers sliding along their skin as she tried to find the words to say.

“We should probably clean up…we have practice tomorrow,” she says under her breath, her face still completely warm.

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” Toji tells her, tickling her ear with his mouth, Suguru pulling her into a kiss as he chuckles at her embarrassment.

“She’s right. We have a therapy session as well. Thanks to this fucking idiot for talking shit to me.”

Toji glares, “You started it.”

“Can y’all not fight, please?” Sweetie sighs.

They realize they’re quick to bicker, rubbing their hands along her skin as a form of an apology. Toji then clears the silence, unable to help himself.

“So does this mean I gotta’ date him too? Suguru’s not my type.”

“Fushiguro, shut the fuck up.”

“Oh god…” Sweetie sighed, knowing this was gonna be never ending.

625 notes · View notes

gardens-light · 15 days ago

Text

Opposites Attract

Unlike his friend, D16 often kept his head down and followed protocol. Going through his usual routine one cycle after another, only stepping out of his normality whenever Orion Pax needed to be pulled out of trouble. Yet... he'd be lying, if he ever said his optics never occasionally drifted towards the one thing he's wanted. You. The High Guard that had stolen his spark, who's beauty could only be compared to the sparkling towers of Iacon. Something he could never touch and never to keep. For he accepted the fact you both were from different worlds. Something that not even one of the 'great plans' of Orion Pax could change... right...?

Content: D16/Megatron TFO x F/Cybertronian Reader. Fluff.

Toiling away under the flickering lights and constant hum of machinery. The cavernous walls of the mine glittered with the veins of energon, their iridescent glow faintly illuminating the surroundings.

As the others grinded away at the seams of energon, Orion Pax's gaze flickered up at D16, noticing the distracted expression upon his faceplate.

"Hey D. You ok?"

Startled and snapping out of his daze, D16 briefly looked over his shoulder. "Huh? Oh- yeah, yeah. I'm fine." he replied dismissively, casually returning his blank gaze back to the task at hand.

"You know I've got your back. Right...?"

"I know, I know you do, Orion. It's just... it's nothing. Really."

Orion lowered his tools, placing a hand on D16's shoulder as his movements became a bit more forceful, as if he was trying to take out his frustration on the cave walls.

Stiffening under his friend's touch, finally taking a moment of pause as he met Orion's concerned gaze.

"It's just... it's stupid. I honestly don't know why I'm even bothered by it." A heavy sigh escaped D16's lips, dropping his tools and leaning against the rocky wall behind him. "I... bumped into someone this morning before shift. It was a little thing really, but the simple shock of it... the shock of realizing who it was... I-I've never seen her in person before, only from the holos, but... Primus, Orion. She was... perfect!"

"Don't give me that look." He groaned, seeing the faint smile tugging on Orion's faceplate. "It's not like I have a chance with her. There's no universe where she'd be slightest bit of interested in some lowly mech like me-"

"C'mon D... don't be like that-"

"Why shouldn't I? It's the truth and you know it." D16 pushed himself off the wall and resumed his work. Wielding his tools with more force than necessary. The sharp ringing of metal against stone echoed throughout the cavern.

"Because there's gotta be more to life than just... this!" Orion protested, gesturing to their surroundings. "Don't you want to try and be more than what we're 'supposed' to be?-"

"What else are we supposed to be, then?!" D16 scowled, swinging his tool once more, causing a shower of sparks to fly up. The glow of the energon-flecked rock reflected off the planes of his face, casting deep shadows under his optics. For a brief moment, the harsh environment seemed to aged his otherwise youthful features. "We're miners! Built for this! Just because you have grand dreams and aspirations, doesn't mean the rest of us do!"

Orion flinched, pausing for moment before finding his voice again. "You're... not seriously gonna just admire this femme from afar...? I-I've seen the way you look at her. You adore her!-"

"It doesn't matter, Orion. She's far beyond me. I'm... just a simple miner, and she's a High Guard. There's no point in even entertaining the thought that I could ever... be with her."

"Why not? Who says you couldn't? You're just as good as any mech!-"

"Oh yeah! I'm sure she'd be enthralled by my rugged charm and the coal dust that's constantly clinging to my frame!" D16 bitterly laughed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I bet she'd swoon over the grease stains on my servos. And of course, the highlight! My endless stories of energon extraction- it just gets the femmes going every time! Clearly!"

Grinding away at the cavern wall, using the repetitive motion of his tools against the stone to distract him from the thoughts spinning through his processor. The dull ache in D16's servos felt like a welcomed relief compared to the turmoil in his spark. A small thorn of guilt pricked at his circuits, as he caught Orion's somber expression within the corner of his optic.

Both fell into a tense silence, the only sound of steady rhythmic clang of metal on stone dragging out till the end of their long shift.

---

Eventually the twelfth hour came to an end, D16 and Orion headed to the nearest exit along with their fellow miners. Grimy from the day's work, their servos stained and joins sore from exertion. D16 stretches lazily, trying to work out the kinks in his wiring, rolling his neck and shoulders as he walked beside Orion.

Raising an optic ridge, following his friend's gaze. D16's spark practically stutters when he spots you not far in the distance. A sweet smile framing your lips, as you spoke to another High Guard, your polished form standing out against the dingy backdrop of the mining station. D16's spark pulsed within it's chamber, sending zaps of electricity throughout his circuits, as if you're a magnet drawing him in. As you turned away from your fellow High Guard, the silver miner quickly avoided eye contact, secretly hoping you didn't notice him as he stared at the floor.

Hiding his mischievous smile, Orion slowed his pace a little. His gaze stubley peering up at you every so often, as the gap between you and his friend gradually closes. Secretly positioning himself slightly behind you, Orion quickly pushed you into D16.

His optics widen as you came crashing down on top of him, your sudden weight causing him to lose balance and fall onto his back with a surprised 'oof.'

"H-Hey! Watch where you're..." oh... Primus...

Subtle warmth slowly raised beneath his faceplates, as passers by raised an optic ridge at your... rather compromising position. Your tall yet slender frame caging D16 beneath you, while his servos hovered awkwardly above your waist.

"Ow..."

A jolt of electricity shot through him, a gasp slipping past his lips as your weight shifted onto his legs, straddling his lap. His servos itched towards your thighs, his amber optics watching the grime and dirt rub off onto your otherwise flawless paintwork. Quickly glancing up at you with an apologetic expression, as your optics flickered open.

"By the AllSpark! Are you ok?" your melody tone was filled with concern, as your soft gaze met his. "I-I honestly don't know what happened."

Taking a moment to collect himself, D16's servos involuntary slowly slid up and down your thighs. "I'm... I'm fine. No harm done... are you alright?"

A subtle heat rose to your faceplates, making them warm to the touch, as your optics flickered down at your thighs. Feeling the miner's calloused servos subconsciously caress your sooth metal.

Following your shy gaze, embarrassment flushed across D16's features. Quickly pulling his servos away and scrambling to sit up properly, his chassis brushing against yours. His optics nervously darting around, attempting to avoid your gaze while his spark wildly pulsed within its chamber.

Both raising onto your peds, and after a brief moment of hesitation. The miner's gaze slowly trailed up your form, as you brushed off the coal dust and grime.

"Primus... s-sorry about that." A pang of guilt struck his inner-circuits, while D16 fussed over you. His spark skipping a beat as you gave him a sweet smile. The warmth of your body made his processor go all fuzzy, not being able to string a single thought.

"Thank you-"

"D! There you are! I've been looking for you." Orion's cheerful voice interrupted. Pulling his usual warm smile, ignoring his friend's annoyed glare as Orion wrapped an arm around D16's shoulders. "Please forgive my clumsy friend, ma'am. If you'll allow it, he'd would like to properly apologize for this whole inconvenience. Perhaps over some energon? His treat, of course."

What?! D16's optics widened, as his glare narrowed onto his friend. For sparks sake, Orion! Now isn't the time to conjure up one of your 'master plans!'

You held up your servos. "Oh... that's very sweet. But he doesn't-"

"Nonsense. He insists. Right, buddy?"

Not wanting to bring anymore attention, than Orion already did. D16 slowly nodded, as an irritated huff escaped him.

His optics flickered towards you, as your sweet chuckles came to his audio receivers. Clearly finding somewhat some form of amusement, as the miner obviously looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Very well... if he insists. U-Um... when?"

"How about this evening?" Orion's smile widened, clapping a hand upon D16's shoulder, who subtly cringed under his friend's touch. "D knows a great energon bar down the way, The Cranked Gear. Very laid-back atmosphere, perfect for a casual... meeting."

The warmth beneath D16's plates rose, as he caught a glimpse of your sweet smile. Your soft gaze roaming over his frame, "sounds great. See you later... D."

"What. The. Fragg was that?!" the silver miner snapped once you were out of earshot. A mixture of disbelief and frustration etched into his faceplates, "you set me up!"

"Hey... I was just trying to help." Orion held up his servos in surrender. "Plus, it proves you have a chance with her-"

"Are you kidding me? There's no chance!" D16 threw his servos up in exasperation, his inner-circuits coiling with tension. "She's a High Guard. I'm a cogless miner-bot. We're practically from different worlds! What am I supposed to do? Just sit there and make a fool of myself?"

A weak smile came to Orion, shrugging as he tried to give D16 some form of reassurance. "From... what I've heard. You kinda just... sit there and talk when you're on a date."

"Gee, thanks for the helpful advice." D16 frowned, his tone dripping in sarcasm. "I'll just sit there and chat about the weather and my thrilling work in energon extraction." A low groan escaped his lips, while pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know why or how I let you talk me into things, y'know..." This is gonna be a disaster.

Later That Evening

Rocking upon his heels, shifting nervously from pede to pede. A subtle hopeful expression etched upon his features, as D16 glanced around for you.

No sign of her yet...

Taking a deep breath, trying to steady his spark and nerves. While his processor ran through potential conversation topics, attempting to prepare something interesting to say. A sigh escaping his lips, as D16 looked down at himself, suddenly hyper-aware of his frame. His rough, dull plating starkly stood out against the sleek finish of the other mechs in the vicinity.

Hopefully... she's not too put off by my rough exterior-

"Good evening... hopefully you haven't been waiting long."

Your soft tone snapped him out of his thoughts, his wide eyed stare roaming over your newly polished figure. "No! Uh, I mean... no. I just got here... you look..."

"What...?" you quickly looked down at yourself. Examining particular spots over your frame, "do I still have coal dust on me or something?"

"No! No! You look good. Great, even. Better than great!" fragging idiot. "Um... shall we...?"

Giving him a brief smile, you followed D16's lead into the bar. Sunken ceiling lights lit the area with a warm, gentle hue. The atmosphere bustling with chatter and laughter. Making your way through the clutter of tables and chairs, D16 could practically feel the surprised and confused expressions of the patrons, as they took in your presence.

He knew that the pair of you must make quite the duo, a miner and a High Guard. While guiding the way through the bar, his optics narrowed onto the nearest bots, silently daring them to say something. Leading you to a more secluded booth in the far corner, the lights became slightly more dim, creating more intimate feel. While the patrons chatter reduced to lulled muffle.

Your smile slightly widened, as D16 pulled out a seat for you. Politely waiting til you were settled before taking a seat opposite you.

"So... uh... how was your day?" his voice was uncharacteristically low, while his digits anxiously fidgeted wit the edge of the table. Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? Come on!

"Um... alright. Nothing out of the ordinary."

The awkward tension slowly eased into the space between you, as D16's processor scrambled for a new topic.

"That's good... My shift down in the mines was pretty normal. Just the... usual amount of ore. No issues with the equipment- well, one drill malfunctioned. But we fixed it quick enough."

D16's spark nervously pulsed through his wires, as you flashed him a weak smile. Replying with a simple nod, "oh... um, sounds... eventful? Would you... like to order some energon?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. I, uh, should probably warn you though. The stuff they serve here isn't exactly the most refined. It's... got a kind of a bite to it."

After answering with shrug, D16 took the cue to approach the nearby bar. The bartender passed him the drinks with a knowing glance, only to be greeted with the miner's glare in return. Knowing full well that the whole bar was undoubtedly watching him, make his way back to you.

Settling himself back into his seat, carefully sliding your drink towards you. As he took a sip from his own, the smooth taste a momentary distraction from the awkward tension.

Noticing your half-hearted smile, a pang of guilt thumped within his spark. This a complete fragging diseater! Why can't I say anything? I can practically feel this whole thing already crashing and burning in front of me!-

"What's... that on your shoulder?"

"Huh?" D16 followed your gaze, briefly noticing you pausing from your drink. A subtle warmth radiated beneath his faceplates as embarrassment swept through his frame. "Oh, uh, that's just... a sticker. My friend, Orion put it there a while ago, and I... forgot to remove it-"

"Oh no. Don't remove it." The tone of your voice peaked a little, as your gaze softened. Admiring the sticker's holographic shine. "It looks good on you. You should see my stasis pod in my private quarters."

A shy smile lit up his features, as D16's spark fluttered within it's chamber. "Y-You... you think so? I, uh... I appreciate that. And... what's on your stasis pod?"

"My favorite, Solus Prime. But I promise it's only a small sticker."

"Ah, a Solus fan, eh?" a small chuckle escaped his lips. Optics shining with a glimmer of amusement. "Not too shabby. Can't blame you, she was a badass warrior. And... only a small sticker, you say?"

Holding up your servo, almost pinching the air between your thumb and index digit. "This small. Nothing too crazy."

"Oh, phew." A light laugh escaped his lips, as D16 mockly wiped an invisible bead of condensation upon his forehelm. "I was worried you had her face on a full sized wall mural. But just a little sticker? That's much more reasonable."

Your sweet chuckles rung through the air between the pair of you, like a sweet melody. Lifting the awkwardness that lingered before, finally giving him the chance to actually feel connected with you.

Feeling a bit more emboldened, D16 continued. "Seriously. Solus is a solid choice. But I'd have to go with Megatronus, personally."

Raising an optic ridge, while tilting your helm to the side. "What draws to you him?"

Leaning back in his seat, a look of admiration sparkled within his optics. "Well, apart from being the most fearsome warrior in Cybertron's history. He was also a brilliant strategist! He could take on any opponent and come out on top! Plus, he's just... so incredibly powerful. Unstoppable really! I guess I've... always looked up to him for that kind of strength."

A small smile teased the corner of your lips, trying to hide it behind your cup. "That's very true. I gotta admit that he's a total badass."

"Oh. He's definitely a badass! I remember reading tales about his battles against the Quintessons, and let me tell you. They're the stuff of legend! He could take on an entire army by himself and come out with nothing but a scratch."

"Careful." Your teasing tone purred. "Your fanboy is showing."

The warmth beneath his faceplates grow even more, as embarrassment crept back into his frame. Clearing his vocal processor, attempting to return to his usual demeanor while his spark skipped a beat. "What? I'm just stating facts."

Taking the last sip from your drink, your soft gaze trailed down his chassis. D16 subconsciously shifts his body, covering his cogless chamber. His spark pulsing more, avoiding your gaze while taking another mouthful of his drink.

A lull ache pulsed throughout your frame, guilt jabbing your at your spark. "Forgive me... I-I shouldn't have starred-"

"It's... It's fine." The lull ache within you begun to painfully prick at your spark, as D16's words held a more rougher edge than he intended. "You were just curious. I don't blame you."

A subtle blanket of awkward silence slowly crept back into the air, as hesitation temporarily stole your words. A flicker of surprise flashed within D16's optics, as his soft gaze noticed your servo edging closer to him across the table. Breath almost got stuck in his vents as he met your optics, the colour shining with genuine curiosity and a hint of compassion.

The question swirling within your processor, softly escaped your lips in just above a whisper. "Can I...?"

Answering with a simple nod. D16 flinched slightly as you touched his cogless chamber, as if bracing himself for judgement or ridicule. Yet your expression remained soft, a hint of... affection? Flickering within your optics. As your digits gently traced the otter rim of his circular chamber, a strange sense of comfort washed over him. The gesture surprisingly tender, as he found himself relaxing under your touch.

"It's... It's a pretty pathetic sight... isn't it?"

Another prang of guilt pulsed throughout your inner-circuits, as you picked up the subtle shame hiding within D16's words. "What? No! No, of course not. Just... different..."

"Different? That's one way to put it." D16's tone held a bitter edge, while a scoff escaped him. "I mean... look at me. A cogless miner bot. I'm a pathetic excuse for a Cybertronian."

Great... Hanging his head low, a heavy sigh escaped him. Why did you steer the conversation in that direction? You idiot!-

Crunch!

Snap!

D16's optics widened as he witnessed you tear away a small section of your forearm. His puzzled gaze flickering to the soft smile upon your lips, your optics shining with kindness as an idea crossed your processor.

"Wait! What are you doing?-"

Your soft smile, sweetened as you leaned back in your seat. Purposely positioning yourself just out of his reach, while you worked on the scrap piece of metal. Only taking a few moments to flatten it, using the table's edge to smooth and round off the edges, before holding up the now makeshift disk for inspection.

"I... know it's not real." D16's spark fluttered within his chassis, as his wide optics met your loving gaze. His breath hitching as you reached across the table, placing the makeshift disk into his empty cog chamber. "But maybe... a part of me could be... your 'cog?'"

Staring down at the makeshift 'cog' which now rested in the chamber, a hopeful pulse beat through your inner circuits as your spark skipped.

For a moment, he couldn't find the words to express the swirling emotions within his spark. Surprise, gratitude, affection... They all crashed together in a wonderful mess.

"I-I... I don't know what to say. This is..." D16 slowly placed a servo over his cog chamber, feeling the shape of his new 'cog' inside.

The act itself wasn't just incredibly kind but... surprisingly intimate. The fact that you would willingly give up a part of yourself for him. To make him feel more... complete.

I-I... would never believed... never have imagined...

H-Have I... overstepped somehow? You nervously swallowed a lump in your vocal processor. Was it too much?

But the invisible tug upon the corners of his lips, was enough to slowly calm your racing spark. For he couldn't help but stare at you in quiet awe, as D16's processor still reel from your act. He gently reached a servo across the table, resting it atop your own. A silent gesture of gratitude and affection, while his optics met yours.

"Th-This... was unexpected- wonderful! Thoughtful! But just... unexpected..." he lowly spoke. "How could I ever thank you?"

"Well..." your sweet smile turned slightly flirty, as your thumb caressed D16's knuckles. "Maybe... you could demonstrate your strength to me? I... heard miners are strong."

D16's faceplates heats up at your flirtatious tone, a rush of nervous excitement tingles pulsed throughout his frame.

"O-Oh..." his amber optics glanced around the bar, making sure nobody was eavesdropping as he returned your smile. "And... how would you like me to demonstrate that? Perhaps somewhere more... private?"

Butterflies entangled your wires, as D16's servo took yours in a slightly tighter grip. "Where did you have in mind?"

His breath hitched a little, feeling you checking him out. The touch of your servo beneath his sent a shiver through his circuits. Gradual confidence filled his spark, as he leaned in a bit further, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "I know a secluded spot not too far from here. It'll give us all the privacy we need for a... rigorous demonstration."

"Sounds perfect."

D16 gives you a sly smile, his frame buzzing with anticipation as you softly bit your bottom lip. Sliding out of the booth, his optics meeting yours. Extending a servo out to you, a silent offer to follow him. "This way gorgeous."

#d16 x reader #transformers d16 #tf one d16 #transformers one #megatron x reader #tfone #d 16 #tf1 #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic writing #transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #x y/n #transformers #gardens light #cybertronian reader #transformers one x reader

431 notes · View notes

httpsserene · 2 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 '𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 | 𝐬𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐜𝐬. 𝟓𝟓 & 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒

summary: have you worked every shift possible for a chance of running into carlos and lando? yes. are you mad that you have a month of summer left and you still haven’t stumbled upon them? yes.

content warning: 18+. mdni. explicit sexual content. plot with porn. summer fling/vacation romance. fluff. light angst. light angst with a happy ending. banter. attempt at humor. explicit language. for extended tags, open in ao3.

pairing: poly! carlos sainz jr x lando norris x phd-student! fem!black!reader

word count: 18k words. (new record!)

from, serene: i am extremely proud of what i created. i hope it was worth waiting for, and i can't wait for the next episode !!! my next upload might be an alex albon smau series, for those that requested it. pls pls pls, send me asks and leave comments on this if you'd like! i'd love to hear your thoughts on sip of sunshine, and how it's building so far xxx thank you so much, my loves :) (50 more followers until 3k :o)

this has also been uploaded on my AO3 for anybody who finds it easier to read a fic of this length on there (looking out for those on mobile x)

Studying for a doctorate does not directly correlate to a person’s brilliance. If you were smart, you wouldn’t have returned to the golf club for another summer with the sole hope of reuniting with the two stunningly fine men you shared a ten-minute conversation with. However, you chose to beat intelligence in a foot race, and here you are: driving the same beverage cart while sweating off your sunscreen for the fifth year in a row; furthermore, you have not crossed paths with Carlos and Lando once in the two months you’ve been working.

It’s difficult to believe that Lando had told the truth when he mentioned that they’ve been attending Club La Moraleja consistently for the past four years. You want to believe him, but the evidence against him is overwhelming. You’ve worked every possible shift this season, at every possible time, on every possible course, without a single spotting of the duo from the beginning of June.

It’s August. If you allow yourself to think maniacally, you would infer that they’re avoiding you on purpose.

Previously, you were under the assumption that they were obviously flirting with you. The sexual innuendos, double-entendres, calling you a “sip of sunshine,” and the eighty euro tip Carlos left you (which had to be a mistake)—from which you deduced that they were making a move on you. You would even say that their instance in convincing you to return to the green was the smoking gun you needed to seal their fate in the case of you catching their interest.

Nonetheless, they are nowhere to be found.

You cope by entertaining the aspect of you suffering from heat stroke or heat exhaustion, and you created Carlos and Lando as a figment of your delusions during your compromised mental state. On the other hand, there’s also a chance that they took your joking threat—of never returning if you had to put up with their subpar pick-up lines—seriously. You didn’t consider that they would misunderstand your teasing banter but, you haven’t seen them a single time this summer.

It’s unsettling. You’ve never been this disappointed about men not taking the clear hint.

Obviously, you’d be relieved if any of the sleazy, rude, and archaic golfers stopped bothering you after their first attempt. But, Carlos and Lando? They’re the exact opposite of the men you described. They’re young, polite, funny, charming, and attractive. It’s not outlandish for you to say that there was some budding chemistry between you three.

It’s regrettably characteristic of you to develop crushes on men you haven’t shared more than one conversation with. Too bad you’re never going to see them again. And, screw them! Who do they think they are? It’s not like they’re anybody special—they probably delighted in filling your mind with false hope.

The next time you see them, you’re running them over with the bev cart. All gas, no breaks.

The motor whirs loudly as you drive over a hill to the last hole of Course Four—and, you’ll be damned.

“Well, look at you! You stayed!”

You can’t tell if this is the universe blessing you or sending you a curse in disguise.

Lando’s words ring in your ears as your brain fails to compute the sight of him and Carlos smiling at you from across the green, down in a bunker.

Lando’s…matured beautifully, over the year you haven’t seen him. He was attractive before, but as you direct the cart closer, you can tell he’s grown into himself. There’s a broadness to his shoulders, a sharpness to his eyes, and a hollowness to his cheekbones that certainly makes it impossible for anybody to deny that he’s beautiful.

Carlos is angeringly more handsome than he was before, somehow. You blame it on the backwards cap and his stupidly wide, warm, beautiful, brown eyes. You cut the engine off, scratching fiendishly at the back of your neck to dispel your thoughts about his nose and lips, how you would pay to see his brown eyes darkened between your thighs.

“Obviously,” you state dryly, roughly tucking the curls that slipped from your ponytail behind your ear, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Their grins falter at your biting tone and they glance at each other in surprise at your irritated response. They climb out of the bunker and walk to meet you at the side of the cart. You’ve turned your back to them, hearing their footsteps approach but you continue to mindlessly organize any cups that shifted out of place as you drove.

“It was just an observation,” the Brit continues, you can hear him still smiling around his words, “A conversation starter, I guess.”

You put on an impassive expression before turning around and staring at the two with your arms crossed, “Mm. Who’s the one who’s bad enough at golf to land in the bunker? Wait—don’t tell me! You’re both probably stuck in the sand trap.”

Lando’s mouth audibly drops open with an insulted gasp and Carlos’s brow furrows in confusion.

You wave a dismissive hand through the air before they can reply, “What do you want to drink?”

“Uh…What?” Carlos fumbles, lost at your deviation.

“What, ‘what?’” You snap, annoyed at his feigned innocence, like he’s unaware that they lead you on for the entirety of a summer that they just appeared in, “What do you want to drink? As in a refreshment? ¿Una bebida? I know you’re familiar with ordering from the cart as I served you last year—and since you both have been coming here for five years!” [A drink?]

The two stare at you in blatant terror as your voice echoes in the air. Their stunned silence at your “unfounded” anger only serves to exasperate you further.

“Make it quick,” your voice trembles infuriatingly, “What would you like to drink?”

“Did we do something wrong? If we upset you, we have no idea what we did,” Carlos rambles pleadingly. You almost buy it.

“Yeah, what’s with the attitude?” Lando gracefully ruins their chances of being acquitted, “We haven’t seen you in nearly a year; What could we have done wrong?”

“Attitude—are you serious!?” You scoff, insulted at the very idea, before continuing mockingly “Whatever—it’s a beer and a lime mocktail, right? Or, would you prefer a sip of sunshine?”

The men don’t have a chance to edit their orders as you sharply throw open the beer cooler, all three of you flinching as the lid slams into the cart and the bottles and cans clamoring together worryingly. You don’t let the fear of damaged property interrupt your fury as you brandish the beer towards Carlos, snatching your hand away as soon as his closes around the neck of the bottle.

He murmurs his thanks in his native tongue but the curl of his accent—no matter how alluring it sounds—incenses you further, and you huffily turn your back towards them as you craft Lando’s drink.

The thought of them being truthful about their confusion about your annoyance flares in your mind as you shovel ice into the plastic cup. It’s possible that there has been some miscommunication…but, that would be embarrassing for you to admit. You’ve already acted incredibly rude and like a total brat to them—to customers, at that! Ohmygod, you’ve let your personal emotions affect your work; they could report you to your manager and have you fired.

Your breath stutters as your overcome with a chill that feels like you’ve dumped ice down your own shirt. The drink is quickly assembled, and you find yourself wishing for a painless death as you fasten an orange slice as garnish on the rim of the cup instead of a lime. A slice of sunshine, if you will.

Meekly, this time around, you offer the cup to Lando. He looks increasingly disturbed at the sudden switch of your demeanor. You watch the Brit glance at his companion, his look clearly communicating that he’s checking if Carlos agrees that you’ve lost your mind, most likely.

The Spaniard must have agreed because Lando giggles nervously, the sound glaringly revealing his discomfort, “You didn’t poison my drink, did you?”

Your brain starts to self-destruct in embarrassment. Carlos hides his face in his free hand, but the sound of pain that escapes him at the ill-timed joke is clear. To be fair, Lando looked like he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth, but the damage was done.

Your cheeks burn furiously, you’re simultaneously angry and disappointed in yourself. How could you allow yourself to become overrun by your emotions on the clock? It’s unprofessional and uncharacteristic of you.

You excuse yourself shakily, “I-I am so sorry. Perdóname. I was rude to you both for no reason. I apologize sincerely for my behavior. Do not worry about paying, your drinks are on me. I hope you both enjoy yourself on the green—Buenas tardes.” [Forgive me; Good afternoon.]

Carlos and Lando are silent as you scamper into the driver’s seat, tail figuratively tucked between your legs. The ride back to the clubhouse is silent as you berate yourself for your stupidity. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to forget the way you ruined your chances with them. You already know your subconscious will play this on repeat every time you try to sleep. The cart beeps as you reverse into its assigned spot. Isabel, one of the fellow cart girls—and your best friend—waves at you with a smile as she walks over towards you. She must be the next on shift.

“You look like you’ve just been fired,” Isa’s smile has transformed into a look of concern, “¿Estás bien?” [Are you okay?]

Grabbing your belongings, you slide out of the driver's seat with a haunted look in your eyes. “You remember the two guys I told you about? From last summer? I think I just scared them away.”

“No,” Isa exhales in denial, pulling you into a hug, “There’s no way. What happened?”

“I yelled at them and insulted them for being bad at golf,” you mumble, yelping sharply as she communicates her displeasure by slapping at your arm, “I was mad at them, okay! They were pretending to be innocent, like they had no clue they avoided me for the entire summer! They’re going to complain to the Club and get me fired because I was unprofessional and rude!”

“Ay! You don’t know that! You still served them, and apologized right?” Isa brightens further when you mention you served them for free, she ignores your pout as you rub your hand against the stinging skin of your bicep, “Then, it’s probably nothing. If they do complain, this is your first complaint ever. You won’t get fired—you will just have to wash the carts for the rest of the summer.”

You fall to your knees on the hot concrete in despair and Isa snorts at your dramatics, bending to pluck the cart keys from your pocket.

“I’m just going to quit, inmediamente!” [Immediately!]

“If you quit, I quit,” Isa reminds you, “And, out of the two of us, I need this job. I’m broke. So, you can’t quit, unless you want me to suffer.”

“I would take care of you,” you beg, “I have my office job back in the States. You could marry me and get a green card! Let me quit!”

Isa cackles at the concept, “You hate your office job. Anyway, quitting won’t save you from your colleagues here. Don’t forget we’re all going out tomorrow night! You can’t escape this time, you promised me.”

You groan in indignation, “Is it a crime to not like clubbing every night?”

“¡Sí, lo es!,” She frowns, “It’s clubbing every night in Madrid! And, I need moral support if I have to watch Lucas flirt with Sofia. I don’t know what he sees in her.” [Yes, it is!]

Grumbling fitfully, you wish her a good shift before dragging yourself into the Clubhouse. You’re still quitting. There’s not a chance in hell that you’re coming back next summer—there is nothing worth staying for anymore. Sorry, Isa.

Out of all the shifts you’ve worked, the 8 A.M. to 3 P.M. is your least favorite. You blink blearily as you hang up your belongings in the same locker you chose four years ago, fighting the urge to rub at your eyes, with the thought of not smearing your mascara. Pinning your nametag on your pressed shirt is muscle memory, and you slide on a club-branded visor to protect your face because the UV index is concerningly high today.

You pause to stare at the photos pinned to the inside of your locker door—they date from your very first summer till now, with familiar faces and some you haven’t seen in a while. It’s heartwarming. You haven’t posted a single one of these photos in here; your friends do it on their own (the password to your locker is apparently community knowledge—you could change it, but then you’d stop collecting them), taping Polaroids from moments on the course to shenanigans off the course to nights out in the city, with captions and notes written on the back.

The sense of belonging and community you found here is why it was so difficult to come to a decision about leaving this place and its people behind. Your lips tilt up at a photo of you and the cart team covering your boss’s car in sticky notes two summers ago—he made you all collect the stray golf balls from the putting green that night in retaliation. And, he laughed deeply as the sprinklers drenched all of you, which is another few snapshots commemorated in your locker.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to leave.

“Mami,” Lilia, the receptionist on duty this morning, calls you from the locker room door, “The two really hot Formula One drivers are asking for you?”

You shoot a look of confusion her way, “huh—why me? I don’t know them?”

“Umm, yes you do?” Lilia mirrors your bafflement, “They say you’ve served them before. And that they want to apologize for something?”

“¿Qué?”

“I don’t know! I’m just repeating what they told me—” The brunette woman cuts herself short, and her eyes narrow after a moment, “Hey, if they’re bothering you, I’ll get them banned. I didn’t tell them that you were here, I just said I’d check to see if you had come in. Did they bother you? Don’t lie to me! I’ll call security and get them gone!”

“What, no! I don’t know them, or even know what Formula One is! I haven’t had a bad interaction or served any drivers—oh.” Your stomach sinks as your eyes shut woefully, “I fucked up.”

Lilia threatens to get them banned again when she sees the bronze skin of your face lose its luster. You tell her to let them know you’ll be out in a moment and to not threaten them. You step to the full-length mirror to check your appearance and adjust your uniform. Centering yourself with a few deep breaths, you turn the door handle and make your way out to the reception desk.

The squeaking of your sneakers on the tile floor only adds to your anticipation. A small part of you hopes that Carlos and Lando aren’t the Formula One drivers asking for you, and that this is all some misunderstanding. You feel your soul die inside of you as your eyes meet theirs. Their expressions look determined and apologetic, and your palms feel sweaty as you come to terms with them preparing to file a formal complaint.

Lilia clears her throat abruptly from where she’s pretending to organize membership files. You see a blush bloom on Carlos and Lando’s cheeks as they realize that they’ve been staring at you without saying anything for longer than what’s politely appropriate, but you beat them to the chase.

“Buenos días. U-umm,” you anxiously scratch at the nape of your neck, “…Is this about yesterday? Or the tip you left last summer? It was too generous to not be an accident. It’s past our refund period, but I can reach out to the manager on duty to see if we can work something out.” [Good morning.]

“I gave you eighty euros on purpose,” Carlos states without doubt, and you feel Lilia’s stare piercing your side profile.

“Oh.”

“I wanted to speak to you about yesterday—”

You cut in, “Yesterday was my fault! I think I misunderstood you both and I overreacted. It was nothing personal—”

Lando clasps his hands together, interrupting you with an imploring tone, “It was personal, though. Which is fine, I think we deserved it. Especially if there was a misunderstanding on our part. We would’ve communicated with you clearer if we were sure that you were on the same page as us. We would appreciate it if you would allow us to make it up to you.”

Lilia kicks your ankle underneath the desk, doing enough freaking out for the both of you as you struggle to keep your face calm.

“I feel like I’m still the one at fault for the miscommunication. But—how were you planning to…smooth things over, I guess?” You ask.

“Allow us to take you to dinner tonight, and explain,” Carlos finishes, weaponizing those eyes of his, helped by Lando softening his own at you desperately for a chance.

“Oh—um, I would love to, really, but I already have plans tonight—,” You’re getting tired of being interrupted, but Lilia is quick to clear your schedule.

“No!” The raven-haired woman jumps up from her seat, slapping her hand on the counter forcefully, causing the three of you to jump. “She’s free tonight!” She smiles scaringly wide at Carlos and Lando.

Lilia turns to you and her smile and voice quiets to something genuine, “I will explain to the others about why you could not make it. Isa will understand as long as you remember to keep us both updated, yes?”

You roll your eyes, resigned , “Yes.”

You’re surprised at the tentative happiness growing in the boys’ appearances, “I guess I can do dinner tonight. What’s the plan?”

Phone numbers are exchanged and they agree to pick you up from your house at seven. They linger through their goodbyes, clearly not wanting to end the conversation. It’s flattering that they're willingly exposing their obsession with you so soon. You shoo them away with the reminder of seeing each other tonight and the fact that you are, in fact, on the clock. Lilia slaps you on the arm repeatedly as you watch them exit through the front doors with a dreamy sigh.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Lilia lets out a scream of excitement and pulls you into a hug, the two of you jumping up and down overwhelmed with joy. You’re caught by your boss Marco, who takes one glance before he turns around to head back into his office, forcing the two of you into hysterical giggles.

You pull back from her, and you can’t quiet the large grin dancing on your lips, “I have no idea what to wear!”

Carlos texted you twenty minutes ago alerting you that they’re on the way to pick you up. Lando added that they can’t wait to see you a minute later. You were ready thirty minutes before they started heading your way. Ten minutes ago you decided to change your entire outfit. You settled on a linen cropped tank and matching maxi skirt with a pair of sandals. You fiddle with your accessories endlessly, and you do the same with a few stray curls that refuse to sit where you want them.

Grabbing your purse and phone, you rush out of your room and down the stairs to find your parents in the kitchen adding the finishing touches to their own dinner.

“¡Mija—qué bonita!” your mom gasps, wiping her hands on a towel before she pulls you closer to look at you, “Where have you been hiding this outfit?” [My daughter, how beautiful she is!]

“Má, I’ve had it for a while,” you subject yourself to her cooing and prodding as she spins you around, looking at your dad for help, who only offers you a shrug, “—I just have not had anywhere to wear it.”

“Hm? Then, what’s so special about tonight? I thought you were clubbing with your friends, no?” You avoid meeting her prying eyes, pretending to find interest in what’s simmering on the stove.

“Eh, why is there a Ferrari outside of my house?” your dad asks, drawing your attention to the front window. The sleek black convertible is parked by the curb, and your phone buzzes in your hands. Lando has informed you of their arrival, and you quickly tell them you’ll be right out to avoid them coming to the door. You don’t know if they’re “meet the parents” caliber yet, Ferrari or not.

“Don’t worry about it, Papà. I’ll text you when I’m on my way back tonight,” you press kisses to both of your parents’ cheeks, “Save some food for me to take to work tomorrow, please?”

Your mom pinches your ear, “Ay! You are going on a date? Finally! Is he handsome on top of being rich? A Ferrari is okay as long as he is as beautiful as the car, you know?”

Your dad makes a noise of complaint as he follows you both towards the door, “A Ferrari is more than okay as long as he respects you and treats you well. And, if he buys me a Ferrari too—ask him for me.”

You fuss at them, flustered but smug as you ignore your dad’s request, and you turn to smirk at your mom, “Papà, I plan to find outfit they treat me well tonight. Mamá. They’re both gorgeous.”

Your dad blinks in confusion as your mom crows in delight, “¡Mija! I knew I raised you properly! ¡Vas, vas! Have fun and you have to tell me everything when you get back, yes?” [My girl!; Go, go!]

“Sí, Mamá. ¡Muchos besos, te quiero!” You slip out of the door, the sound of your mother explaining that you’ve garnered the interest of two men to your father fading behind you as you walk to the car. [Yes, mom. Kisses, I love you!]

Carlos and Lando are waiting for you on the curb, the engine purring lowly behind them. Your gait slows as you near, and the Spaniard reaches out to press his lips to the back of your hand fleetingly.

They’ve dressed well; Lando in a light gray, short-sleeved, collared, v-neck that rests untucked over white chinos and a pair of gray sneakers to match. He’s sprinkled with bracelets, a few of them decorate his toned forearms on both wrists, and there’s a singular silver chain peeking from the cut of his shirt. Carlos is dressed similarly with the white chinos, yet he’s chosen a light blue button-up with the first few buttons undone, and a pair of dress shoes. His outfit is complimented by a dazzling watch.

You murmur a greeting to both men, unable to hold eye contact with either of them for long. It’s one thing to fantasize that you have a chance with men clearly out of your league, and it’s another thing to have to muster up the confidence to speak to them outside of your uniform.

Lando impatiently shifts on his feet as the older man keeps hold of your hand for longer than necessary. When you’re released, Lando takes it a step further and pulls you into a hug, his body heated and solid against yours. A shiver runs down your spine when his hand rests on the exposed skin of the small of your back. You hum, pleased as you inhale the velvety scent of his cologne, missing the closeness as he pulls away from you a beat later.

You step back, your heart thudding as you quip, “I didn’t know we were on hugging terms already.”

“I’m sorry,” Lando flushes easily, and Carlos chuckles, “I should’ve asked if it was okay.”

“I liked it,” you smile at him, pretending as if your heart isn’t pounding forcefully from the brief embrace, “I-I mean, it was fine, don’t worry.”

The Brit hums at your response, his eyes drifting along your form before meeting yours again with a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips. His blush recedes as yours strengthens, now apparent on your darker skin.

“Lovely house,” he withdraws, and you’re thankful he avoided commenting on the evident flush he invoked with nothing more than a hug and a pass of his eyes.

“Thank you, my parents bought it and moved here after I started university,” you explain needlessly, “They’re pretty great. They were the ones who made me apply for the position at La Moraleja. So, really, it’s them you have to credit with us meeting, I suppose.”

“We also have to thank them for having a beautiful daughter,” Carlos alleges smoothly.

You fluster, “I-I’ll pass the message along. Both of you are very handsome, but I think you guys hear that often.”.

“Don’t worry. It sounds sweeter coming from you,” Lando edits his point with an impish grin, “—and from Carlos too, sometimes.”

“Don’t be a brat, Lando,” the Spaniard’s voice is light as he entertains the younger, “Unfortunately, I think we will be late if we continue to stand here and flirt in the street,” Carlos says, and his eyes shift to look past you and at your house, “—And, I think your dad might come outside and kill us. Which would not be very pleasant, in my opinion.”

You spin around, chagrined at the sight of your dad watching the three of you with a harsh stare.

“Yes! Let’s get going, I would hate to be late. Ignore him, please.” Lando waves at your dad anyways, endearing himself to you further, “And, you won’t have to worry about being murdered as long as you get him a Ferrari.”

The two men startle into laughter at that, and you hold your hands up candidly, “What? His words, not mine!”

You didn’t account for the oddness of one of you sitting in the backseat, but Lando assigns himself to the back, claiming that you have “passenger princess” rights.

The wind ruffles through your curls aimlessly as Carlos drives towards your destination. The ride is filled with endless chatter and flirting. A smile is constantly on your face as the three of you speak through topics easily. There’s not a single time you feel like an outsider, even though it’s clear how familiar they are with each other.

The restaurant you find yourself in isn’t screaming its extravagance at you, which is surprising. While it’s dimly lit, and you can hear live music thrumming through the air from somewhere deeper inside over the lively chatter—it feels like a classic restaurant, intimate and comfortable. Like somewhere you could go for a nice dinner often.

The hostess straightens upwards with recognition when she spots Carlos and she greets the three of you good naturedly before disappearing to check if your table is ready.

The Spaniard notices the surprise on your face, “My family and I have dined here since I was young. You have never come here before? ”

You shake your head, “I’m a little jealous, if I’m being honest,” Carlos tilts his head, listening, “I’m mad I didn’t discover this place sooner. The atmosphere is amazing!”

The hostess returns, gesturing for you all to follow after her and Lando grasps your hand to catch your attention as you walk, “If you think the vibe is amazing, just wait until you try the food.”

The table is not in direct sight of anyone besides the kitchen, clearly a spot meant for privacy. Your hidden behind a half wall and a screen overgrown with plants, and the volume of the restaurant seems quieter through the barrier. You lean back in your chair as the three of you wrap up the discussion about yesterday’s conflict.

“I feel incredibly stupid now,” you chuckle, embarrassed. The brown skin of your face burns hot. You focus on the empty wine glass in front of you, avoiding their eyes plainly.

“No,” Carlos’s voice is stern, the serious tone shocking you into looking at him, “Do not be rude to yourself—you are not stupid.”

You stare, dumbfounded, reeling as you process the manner in which he shut down your negative self-talk. If his words totally dissolved your mortification over your immature reaction to seeing them again, you might have thought harder about how that was kind of hot of him to do.

“Aren’t you studying for a PhD?” Lando asks rhetorically, “I think that literally means you’re not stupid.”

You scoff lightly—feeling humored instead of humiliated—at how easily he swept away the tension with a light-hearted comment. The Brit doesn’t know how many people have enlightened you with the knowledge that common sense is, unfortunately, uncommon in post-grad. But, you’ll let his words wash away your self-deprecation lest this turns into an unsolicited therapy session instead of a date an apology dinner.

“Fine. I’m not stupid—but, you can’t deny that it wasn’t a little dumb of me to assume that you guys had lied to me about visiting the golf club every year. And, it was a little more dumb of me to make my decision about working here for another season just because there was a chance that I could see you guys—never mind.” Your teeth clack together forcefully as you slam your mouth shut.

The duo straighten up at the sudden end to your sentence, brains quickly filling in the blanks for them. Lando’s poorly attempting to hide his satisfied smile behind his hand and Carlos’s eyes are bright with understanding. You’ve learned your lesson about making hasty assumptions but you don’t think it’s foolish to deduce this means that they’re actually interested in you too, this time around.

“Ah. Well, we should not have assumed that you knew we were Formula One drivers, which maybe was obvious from how you spoke to us,” Carlos shrugs his shoulders, leveling the blame, “And, I think it’s sweet that you were hoping to run into us again.”

“Mmm,” you hum nervously, “I think it’s delusional.”

One of their shoes knocks against yours underneath the table and you jump in surprise. Carlos’s chest shakes with a silent laugh and his eyebrow raises at you pressingly.

“We should’ve asked for your number last summer,” Lando adds nonchalantly.

You rattle at his boldness, and you’re given a moment to ponder that as the waiter stops to pour you and Carlos a glass of white wine (Lando refused). You take a brief sip, humming pleasantly at the light and easy flavor, the live music and easy conversation floating through the air providing you a reprieve from your immersion in the two men.

Your attention is recaptured as you watch Carlos offer Lando a chance to taste from his glass.

Earlier, the Brit had told you he dislikes the taste of most alcohols when the waiter stepped away to grab the bottle Carlos requested. Yet, Lando accepts, not without making his distaste apparent with an adorable frown. He takes the tiniest sip possible with a look of apprehension and recoils from the glass as he swallows, his nose scrunching in disgust as he shakes his head to further sell his distate.

Carlos rolls his eyes and laughs, revealing to you how used he is to Lando’s dramatics. He raises a hand to rub at the short hair on the nape of the younger’s neck in comfort.

The look on your face must be cloyingly sweet if the light dust of pink that rises to the Brit’s cheeks when he realizes you’ve watched the entire interaction, is meaningful. Carlos’s eyes become intense when he spots how Lando curls into himself shyly under your eyes. The Spaniard whispers, his volume low enough for only Lando to hear and you wish you knew exactly what was said, because it deepens the tint of his cheeks to a furious red.

You figure you’ll save him from his torment by bringing up the important stuff.

“So, you only have a month of summer vacation,” you start, fingers fiddling with the edge of a fan-folded napkin, “Which is in August. That’s…so short. My fall semester starts the first week of September.”

Silence falls as they digest the underlying meaning of your sentence. Is it in everyone’s best interest to start something that has to end so soon? Is it in your best interest to risk catching feelings for two athletes (celebrity-athletes, at that) during the last month of your break?

“A month is a long time,” the younger man starts, his blue-green eyes intent, “We’ll just have to make the most out of it, right? I want to get to know you more, and I have a feeling that the three of us will have a fun time together—If you want to give it a try.”

“A ‘fun time’? Like—like a fling?” Your expression remains indifferent as you ask. You need them to clarify what they want out of this without revealing your emotions. It’s only proper for you to prevent any future miscommunication or misunderstanding about this; you learned from your earlier mistake.

Lando’s earnest gaze has lost some of its shine, and Carlos’s eyes now seem guarded.

“Calling it a fling is harsh,” the Spaniard responds, “It’s more of a summer romance, no?”

Your laugh isn’t genuine, but they don’t know you well enough to discern that, “Alright, I’ll give our ‘summer romance’ a chance. Using a synonym doesn’t change the definition, you know?”

Lando cocks his head at you, staring deeply. It feels like he’s trying to puzzle you out, and you stare back in feigned confusion.

“It’s nothing,” He relaxes, leaning back in his chair and moving Carlos’s glass out of the way as he sees the waiter nearing the table with your appetizers, “I just find it odd that you called yourself stupid earlier.” You don’t know what to make of that, but it’s forgotten as the starters are devoured and the conversation shifts into them getting to know you and vice versa.

The older man with them at the golf course last year was Carlos’s father, who is a two-time Rally World Champion. You’re surprised to learn that they’ve only been dating for around a year. Lando says he developed a crush on Carlos when they were teammates at Mclaren, but he was afraid of ruining their relationship and potentially, his career, if he confessed–so he kept quiet. Carlos didn’t realize he was romantically interested in Lando until he signed his contract with Ferrari.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you interrupt, “If you guys have only been together for a year, did you get together before or after you saw me at the golf course for the first time?”

“A year and three months,” the Spaniard corrects with a serene smile, “Our anniversary was in May.”

The Brit continues for him, “—Which means we started dating about three months before we saw you. Give or take a few weeks.”

You gave a low whistle of surprise—three months into their relationship and they were on the same page about chasing after you. Since then, they had several serious conversations about adding a third to their relationship but hadn’t found or looked for anybody they’d consider to try with. Besides you.

Obviously, they like playing golf; Lando is abysmal, and Carlos is not bad at it. Carlos has two sisters, Lando has a brother and two sisters. Both of them are middle children. Lando is a picky eater, and hates fish and seafood. Carlos will eat anything Lando doesn’t. Lando founded a company with his best friend. Carlos is a Real Madrid fanatic. Lando occasionally streams on Twitch. Carlos enjoys surfing and cycling.

“I’m sorry for saying that you guys sucked at golf yesterday,” you apologize sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” the Brit says, unperturbed, “I do suck at golf. I just wasn’t expecting to hear it come from you.”

“I suck less at golf,” the older man states, “But, if I was good, I would not have been in the sand pit in the first place, no?”

They visit Spain often because family is important to Carlos. Lando’s loved like another son by Carlos’s family and Carlos is loved the same by Lando’s family. Lando is needy. Carlos likes being needed. Carlos is mildly possessive. Lando is too self-critical. Carlos makes the best pancakes. Lando wants to build a beautiful vintage car collection.

They want to see you again. You enjoyed dinner more than you thought was possible.

They defrosted your nerves and allowed your personality to shine through. It helps that they were actively listening as you complained and gushed over your studies, told anecdotes of the shenanigans you and the others got up to on the golf course, and spoke about your future outlooks. They didn’t mind your lack of knowledge about Formula One and explained the sport in detail to you. They were determined to figure out what made you mad, what made you happy, what made you laugh, what made you shy—and, what made you go pink.

It didn’t take them long to discern that staring at your lips is the trick. When they made that discovery, they weaponized it the entire night. While one of them played with the rings on your fingers or tucked a curl behind your ear, the other managed to fluster you by letting their eyes wander for a few seconds before meeting yours again with increasing intensity. You experienced heart failure several times, and had to ask them to repeat themselves more frequently thanks to their psychological warfare.

Your heart feels like it may cease to function again as they walk you to your doorstep. The lights inside the house are off, you returned later than you thought you would. Your parents left the porch light on for you and it casts an amber warmth. Carlos and Lando don’t invite themselves into your space as you dig your house keys out of your purse, ever the polite men. The sound of your keys jingling harmonizes with your triumphant hum as you pull them out.

You face the boys, placing your hand on the doorknob behind you, waiting for them to speak.

“Are we forgiven for unintentionally leading you to believe that we led you on and wasted your time?” Lando blurts out.

You knock your head back against the doorframe, abashed, shutting your eyes to dispel the HD playback your brain gifts you with. “If you both agree to never bring it up again, I’ll forgive you.”

“I suddenly do not know what we’re talking about,” Carlos nods seriously, and Lando echoes the sentiment.

You release the doorknob and take the few steps towards them. As you expected, their eyes simultaneously drift to stare at your mouth. You lightly place a hand on Carlos’s shoulder before leaning up and brushing your lips across his cheek in the lightest ghost of a kiss, before moving to Lando and doing the same.

You carefully backpedal to the door turning to insert your key into the lock, before you look back at them. Your heart flutters at the sight of Carlos, who’s frozen, standing all wide-eyed and pressing his fingers to his cheek like he’s unsure if he imagined the kiss. Lando however, looks hungry. His eyes are the darkest you’ve seen tonight, and they’re locked on how you teasingly flick your tongue across your bottom lip.

“While we may only have a month to spend together—it doesn’t mean I’m easy. I, at least!—need a second date before I let you do anything more than stare at my lips and hold my hand. It might take three dates before I even let you kiss my cheek,” you tease with a joking shrug of your shoulders.

“It’s a good thing that you have my phone number,” the lock clicks open, and you push the door open, “If you don’t use it to set up another date, I think I’ll have no choice but to never forgive you guys.”

“We’ll be using it,” Carlos asserts, recovered from the daze you left him in.

“Hm, good. Text me when you get home.” You step in your entryway, waving your fingers at the two of them leisurely, “Buenas noches.” [Goodnight.]

They mimic your goodbye and you shut the door, clicking the lock. You nosily peek through the peephole to spy on their reactions. Carlos tugs Lando into a bear hug, their wide smiles hidden as they press into each other and the sharpest pitch squeal you’ve heard from Lando travels through the front door. You cover your own giggle with a hand as you watch the two of them kiss and almost skip down your driveway back to the car. You press your back to the door with a deep sigh, a lovestruck smile painting your face while you lay limp to let your heartbeat slow to a normal speed.

The hallway light flicks on and you shriek as your mom stares at you with a deranged smile on her lips, “Tell me everything!”

“Mamá! What are you doing up? It’s late!” You exclaim, straightening upwards with your hands on your hips, failing at distracting her from how you were weak in the knees a couple of seconds ago. “It’s okay, mija! I’ll start a fresh pot of coffee for us and you can tell me all about your date!” She rushes forward, grabbing your hand to pull you into the kitchen.

Ironically, the second date ends up being late night mini golf. Even better, you destroy them at it. It wasn’t an easy feat, they made plenty of attempts to sabotage and distract you; whether it was yelling, spooking, poking, or prodding at you as you readied your putt, but it wasn’t enough to give them a chance of catching up.

You figure more of your mistakes were from being unable to stop laughing as the two performed atrociously. Carlos ended up polluting every water feature with golf balls and Lando couldn’t manage to finish a single hole in under 8 strokes—the highest par was 6. You patted Lando on the back consolingly, telling him to find comfort in the fact that they’re equally terrible at putt-putt golf.

The two seemed surprised at your finesse with a club, almost like they’d forgotten you work on a golf course. You may not be a caddy, but you’ve had plenty of time to work on perfecting your technique. You did well enough to place sixth on the leaderboard, the employees said that Carlos’ score might be the worst they’ve ever seen.

With their egos severely bruised, you convinced them to soothe the loss over with ice cream at a neighboring parlor. Lando was satisfied with plain vanilla and Carlos with a scoop of dulce de leche. You elected for cookies and cream, but found yourself being fed their flavors as well.

The sugary treats were delicious. Watching them stare at your lips pursed around a spoonful of ice cream was far more delectable. Lando broke the fourth time you managed to dot a bit of vanilla above your upper lip. He choked on a whine before leaning into your space. He hesitated a hair’s width away from your lips, his shuddering exhales mixing with yours, his eyes searching for approval. Your eyes fluttered shut and Lando closed the gap.

His lips were soft and chilled, a result of the ice cream. Warmth blossomed in your chest as you leaned into the kiss, the taste of vanilla lingering in the embrace. His hand raised to cradle your cheek as your lips brushed together languidly, the sound of your heart racing within your chest fading out as you become absorbed by the kiss.

Lando pulls away, falling back into his seat with his chest heaving. You stare after him with wide eyes, jolting out of it when you notice you’ve dropped your spoon into your lap, Carlos’s dulce de leche ice cream spilling onto your thigh.

“Do I get to lick this off your thigh since Lando got to kiss it off your lips?” Carlos asks, his tone half genuine, half facetious.

You kick at his ankle underneath the booth and he throws his hands up placatingly.

“Wait–,” you anxiously flit your eyes around the parlor, “—you shouldn’t have kissed me here Lando. Out in public? Aren’t people going to recognize—”

“We’ve been the only people in here for the past thirty minutes or so,” Lando interrupts, gathering the near-empty dishes and balled-up napkins, “They’ve also been closed for twenty minutes. When you went to the bathroom when we came in, Carlos and I signed something for the owner who was more than happy to keep things quiet for his second favorite Spanish Formula One driver.”

“Second favorite?” Carlos furrows his eyebrows at his boyfriend, his umber eyes adorably confused.

“Mate,” the Brit scoffs, “I might be in love with you ‘n all but we're not going to act like Fernando isn’t the best thing that came out of Spain, besides churros.”

The unfavored Spaniard holds his hand to his chest in betrayal before his eyes narrow and he moves to assault Lando with a pinch to his chest. While you’d love to continue watching this disguised act of foreplay, you would rather be a participant than a voyeur.

“¡Cabrónes!” The two freeze, heads snapping to look at you as your voice cuts through the catfight.

“I think the owner would be even happier if you licked the ice cream off my thigh outside of his parlor so he could finally lock up, sí?”

How Lando kisses with a desperate hunger, Carlos kisses with a ravaging heat. Like he wants to roast your nerve endings with every brush of his lips against yours.

The fiery press of his mouth stokes the arousal building in your navel. His hand tangles in your hair as he directs the tilt of your head. A stuttered whimper slips from your mouth into his as your tongues glide together, a buzzing sensation tingling down your spine as his other hand squeezes your waist tightly.

He walks you backward towards the bed, his lips devouring yours as you wrap your arms around his neck, attempting to pull your bodies even closer than they are. You stumble, gasping when his hand palms your ass and it’s the first time your lips have separated since Carlos claimed them in the hallway. He tumbles into you as his feet stumble around yours, the darkness of the bedroom not bettering the situation. He nearly sends you both to the floor instead of the plush mattress if not for Lando catching your body and a hand firmly pressed to Carlos’s chest to hold him upright, expletives falling from your mouths until balance is restored.

You rest your forehead on the older man’s collarbone as you abruptly giggle at being so kiss drunk you forgot how to backpedal. The two drivers have no choice but to laugh at the sound of your amusement, Lando cackling and Carlos’s chest shaking with his laughter.

“I’m not against fucking on the floor,” Lando voices, the sound of his grin loud enough for you to visualize, “But—can we at least have our first time with you on this extremely comfortable bed?”

“First time?” You raise a brow jokingly, nonchalantly pulling your shirt over your head and letting it fall to the floor, “That implies you’re thinking there’s gonna be a second.”

The Spaniard steps away to click the nightstand lamp on, the room partially bathed in warm yellow light. Your eyes adjust seamlessly to the low lighting, allowing you to revel in the sight of him appreciating your exposed skin, even when covered with a plain black bra—you’ve never been more thankful to be wearing a matching pair of panties.

The younger man unclasps the latch of the garment, dragging the straps down your arms, goosebumps rising in the wake of his fingertips, and the bra lands atop your shirt. You feel his breath cascade heatedly along your left shoulder before his lips purse delicately against the brown skin.

He nips closer to the crook of your neck, lowly murmuring, “I know we’ll be having you for more than a third time.”

Surely feeling left out, Carlos unzips your skirt, tugging it down your hips and offering a hand for you to hold as you step free of it, “Many more times. But for tonight,” the older man pauses, toying with the band of your panties, looking at you with a smirk, “We must settle on saving the floor for round two. After we have caused you to ruin the sheets.”

Internally, you scream in elation. Two men eager to fuck you stupid, for the rest of your summer—you pray they’re not bluffing. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had sex good enough for a repeat performance. Externally, you shimmy out of your panties and tug at the hem of Carlos’ button-up once you’re bare.

“If you want me to ruin your sheets, I’m pretty sure that requires you both to be less clothed.”

Lando’s free of everything but his briefs in a handful of seconds while Carlos struggles to unbutton his shirt. The younger pulls you into bed, guiding you to lay on your back as he holds himself over you, dipping to kiss you messily, unafraid to let his moans knit with yours. By the time the older man has lost his clothes and joined the two of you on the bed, the Brit’s focus has traveled down the length of your neck to your chest. Reddened marks bloom on your bronzed skin, mottled across your decolletage in a pattern only known as desire.

He laves his tongue against a pebbled nipple, his teeth scraping the sensitive bud, delighting in the way your body arches upwards into his mouth. Your hand pulls tightly at brunette curls, his resulting whimper at the burn of his scalp muffled around your breast, his eyes screwing shut. You loosen your grasp, unable to determine if that was a positive reaction and you’re pleased to see his eyes fly open, his gaze demanding more. His large hand envelopes your wrist, attempting to have you further mess up his hair, but the motion is halted when Carlos cocks Lando’s head backward with an unrelenting fist.

The younger man shudders, his eyes rolling at the rough treatment. He rises to lessen the pressure of his boyfriend’s grasp, settling into a kneel between your legs with Carlos pressed to his back. The burn of his scalp subsides when the hold weakens, the tension leaving the younger man in a breath and his head droops back on a broad shoulder.

The Spaniard captivates your attention as he presses a kiss to Lando’s jaw, moving the same hand that was in his boyfriend’s hair to splay against his abdomen, a finger dipping to poke at his bellybutton, causing Lando to jolt with a whine. Carlos coos, calming the man with a rub of hand along his torso.

“Don’t let him fool you. He likes a bit of pain,” Carlos tweaks Lando’s nipple demonstratively, letting the sight of the younger man’s arousal jumping underneath his briefs accompanied by a strangled moan speak for itself. “He’s a brat, even if he likes to pretend otherwise. A little sting is enough to remind him how to act…most times. Right, Landito?”

The man moves to hide his face in Carlos’s neck as if it’ll hide the sight of him nodding in confirmation. It doesn’t help that the meek “yes” he breathes into the muscle isn’t muffled at all.

“And because he wants to be good,” Carlos continues, pulling at Lando’s waistband and releasing it to snap against flushed, pink skin, “He’s going to keep himself busy with you while I see if I can still taste the dulce on your thigh. Is that okay with you?”

You gulp, anticipatory. “M-more than okay.”

The younger man's eyes are all pupil, ringed with stormy-colored irises as he’s lowered by your side. You were contemplating teasing him about his brat complex—but the haze of his eyes causes you to reconsider.

The gap of his teeth remains adorable even as he bites his lips, the plush skin reddened and raw from where he’s already scraped the skin off. Prolonged eye contact from him seems impossible—his gaze flits away from yours after a handful of seconds. He struggles to decide where to look, happening upon your lips, zoning out with a yearning pout. Lando is clueless to the effect of his fixation; he reignites the redness on your cheeks and the skipping of your heartbeat.

Frightened by Carlos’s spit-slicked lips brushing along the bone of your ankle, you twitch, breaking Lando’s trance.

The Brit’s blush deepens when he notices you’ve been watching him stare without saying a word. He muffles a mortified whimper into a pillow, smushing his face so deeply into the fabric you worry he may strangle himself. You glance at Carlos for assistance and the man only nods in the younger’s direction, continuing to drag his mouth up your legs, pausing to suckle the skin of your thighs and smirking when he feels the muscles flex underneath his lips.

“Lando, chico,” you croon, petting a hand through the curls at the crown of his head, “Look at me.”

He peeks an eye at you shyly, turning to face you fully, reassured at the enamored look you cover him with.

“Besamé,” you murmur, knowing it’s something Lando’s heard plenty of times from the man nestled between your legs. [Kiss me.]

The younger understood, rushing to press his lips to yours filthly. The frantic energy is winsome, your chest tightening at the sounds of him whining and mewling needily into your mouth. He licks into your mouth insistently, his attention devoted to tasting the remaining sweetness of ice cream on your tongue. From below, Carlos hums as his tongue polishes off the remaining stickiness on your bronzed skin.

The sounds they rip from you are muffled by the younger man, but the grunt of annoyance Carlos makes as the lingering dulce de leche flavoring of your thigh disappears is clear. He drags his tongue against your labia in one firm stroke, your abdomen undulating at the unexpected attention to your cunt. He smacks his lips, savoring, before a moan rumbles through his chest.

“Better than the ice cream,” he announces, the brown of his iris darkened with greed.

Lando frees your lips to look at his boyfriend pleadingly, and you take the time to breathe. He left you lightheaded as he kissed every ounce of oxygen from your lungs.

“ ‘wanna taste, ” Lando begs, and Carlos pulls up to meld their lips together, and you're briefly hypnotized by the muscles of his arms contracting through the movement.

The most reedy whine escapes the curly-haired man as Carlos shares the taste of your arousal with him. Your head is filled with the sound of blood rushing through your ears, buffering at the sight of the two men feasting on your essence—what were you thinking when you agreed to be a summer romance? You’re never going to be able to recover from this, and they haven’t even fucked you yet.

They separate, Lando’s chest heaving as he licks along his lips in search of any faint traces of your taste. Carlos resituates himself between your thighs, his voice carrying a firm edge, “Wait your turn, cariño. Keep being good for me—for us, yes?”

The younger man seems small as he nods, appearing a little empty-headed at the command, but he obeys. Turning back to peck your lips sweetly, Lando trails downward to leave a few marks of his own along the column of your neck.

You grab his jaw lightly, “No marks—,” the light in his eyes dulls slightly, “—that high up.” He brightens and lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nipping at your skin, energized by your nails scratching along his scalp.

Your mouth parts in a silent gasp as Carlos joins in. He laps between your folds sloppily, his nose knocking your clit with every bob pf his head. The hand that isn’t buried in brunette curls fists in Carlos’s locks of hair, holding him steady while he prods at your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

Your brain buzzes, toes curling as the older man eats you out, the sounds of him enjoying his meal reverberating through the air, harmonizing with your cries and Lando’s snuffles as he toys with your nipples.

Carlos presses a finger inside, thrusting shallowly against your fluttering walls and his mouth purses around your bud, the suckle of his lips puppeteering your spine into arching and your hips into bucking. His stubble scratches your thighs, the scrape searing but adding to your gratification.

He curls upwards, dragging roughly through the clenching of your cunt, adding a second finger that your walls swallow voraciously. The ache of the stretch is calmed quickly by the ample leaking of your arousal and the constant attention of a tongue on your clit as Carlos steadfastly hunts for your sweet spot.

Your mewls are ragged, forced from your lungs with every press of his fingers. Your eyes flutter as pleasure singes your skin, you find the strength to hold them open as you lock gazes with the man between your legs. His eyes are characteristically wide, but they scream his commitment to making you scream.

There’s no fighting. Your head falls back when his fingers graze near that pleasure point and your eyes screw shut when he perfects the angle and massages your sweet spot with his fingertips.

A shrill shriek leaves your lips as the penetration becomes unrelenting. He constantly presses on the button that has your thighs tightening around his head, but the temptation of taking his final breath between your legs has him doubling down, suckling at your clit forcefully as he prods a third finger inside of you.

Lando chokes, crying out loudly as your hand yanks at his curls, his hips jumping to grind along your hip, his briefs damp from where he’s been leaking. Carlos’s laugh as he watches his boyfriend desperately hump in search of friction, vibrates around your swollen bud, forcing out a squeal nearly loud enough to drown out the sound of your slick squelching around his fingers.

Abruptly, he pulls away. His digits slip from your walls, your entrance left to pucker hungrily around air. Carlos’s stare is loud as he fights the urge to press inside of you again.

The lack of stimulation is maddening. You free your hold on Lando, and he collapses onto you, body pinning yours to the bed—his weight steadying as you restrain your anger at the sudden halt.

You blink deliriously at the sight of Carlos tearing a condom wrapper open with his teeth. The slowing rhythm of your heart speeds up as you revel at the image of his hand rolling the condom down his hardened length, flushed and throbbing with arousal.

It’s daunting. It’s been a long time since you’ve last had sex. At some point, you decided to prioritize protecting your peace rather than dealing with men who aren’t going to do anything other than ruin your PH and fail to make you cum. It doesn’t help that Carlos is well-endowed; you need to come to terms that you’re going to have a limp after this.

Lando sits upwards to watch his boyfriend drag his length through your folds, moaning in unison with you as Carlos’s tip brushes along your pulsing clit. The Spaniard grunts at the heated slide before resting at the gape of your entrance, but he looks up to you for your go ahead.

“I-it’s been a while,” you admit tensely, covering your eyes with the back of your hand as anxiety builds in your navel.

“How long is ‘a while?’” Carlos asks, without a single hint of judgment. Lando pulls your hand off your face tenderly, revealing their compassionate expressions.

“You remember how I joked about not kissing you guys until a second date?” You toy with Lando’s fingers distractedly, and they confirm their recollection, “Well—there hasn’t been anybody that’s made it past a second date in a long time.”

“Carlos is gentle,” Lando reassures you, halting your play with his fingers to hold your hand comfortingly, “I promise. And he listens very well, and pays attention, and goes at your pace. If he doesn’t, I’ll beat his ass.”

You giggle at that, your nerves fading as Carlos yelps at the threat. This exact kind of behavior is the kind you can see yourself falling in love with.

“Ay! Yes—Lando has permission to knock some sense into me if I hurt you,” Carlos jokes, pausing momentarily before his tone becomes hopeful, “And, we would really like to be the ones who make it to a third date—I’ll follow your pace, I swear.”

The knot in your stomach tightens for another reason besides arousal.

“I believe you,” you murmur, relaxing back into the bed, raising your’s and Lando’s joined hands to press a kiss to his wrist. Lando hums sweetly at you, laying at your side again, his free hand cradling your waist, thumb brushing calmingly on your rich brown skin.

Carlos breaches you softly—gently, as Lando said he would. The three fingers he stretched you with was a safe play. If it were only two, you would be feeling a sharp pain instead of an ache. The burn is delicious, your inhale stutters as the head of his cock pops into you.

“Joder,” Carlos curses, his jaw clenched tightly, his grip tight on your thighs, as he inches deeper. His eyes trace your complexion attentively for any sign that it’s too much. “Relax, mi corázon—let me in.”

The sweet endearment encourages you to pant through a tiny whimper. Lando’s hand pets along your navel as he sweeps a kiss across your brow bone.

“‘s big isn’t he?” He murmurs, voice breathy, “Fuck—it’s gonna be worth it when he’s all the way inside you, yeah? Stretching you out just right, touching spots you didn’t know existed. It hurts a little, I know, love. But, it hurts so good, doesn’t it? I don’t know how that fits inside me every time I take it, but it’s worth it.”

You whimper fitfully—you want to watch Carlos make him take it.

The discomfort twisting your brows lightens slightly, and Carlos pulls out before he sinks another inch in. The shallow stroke sends an appealing rush of sharp pleasure skittering up your spine and it pools at the back of your head.

A real moan is forced from your chest, and your eyes open to see Lando tucking a curl behind your ear, smiling knowingly.

“Yeah, that felt good didn’t it, baby?” You can’t solely credit the burst of pleasure behind your eyes to Carlos’s barely there thrusts as he works deeper. The praise and pet names Lando seems keen to utilize should be accounted for as well. The Brit presses down on your navel with an astoundingly large palm.

His lips graze your ear as he whispers, “Don’t you wanna feel him here? All deep inside of you?” He pauses briefly, letting your imagination work before continuing. “I feel him there when he fucks me. Like he’s making room for himself, yeah? Gonna open up for him? For me? Gonna let yourself feel good, sunshine?”

Carlos’s hips meet the backs of your thighs as he bottoms out.

Choked gasps leave you and Carlos. Your skin alight, your pores flaring raw. His calloused hands rub over your hips and thighs, one settling where Lando’s was previously holding at your waist and the other amply squeezing the curve of your ass.

Behind your closed eyes, you see the white flare of heat zinging through every nerve ending, your body overstimulated at receiving pleasure in the highest, unfiltered form. Lando was right—it feels like he made room for himself. The weight of him is searing, your walls fluttering frantically as they adjust.

Your most conscious thought is realizing why orgasms are referred to as “little deaths.” Because, if him fucking into you for the first time is this good? Cumming around him has to feel akin to ascending to heaven.

The younger man turns your head towards him with a gentle nudge of your cheek. His eyes peer into you searchingly. You don’t know what he’s trying to find. You’re more concerned with coaxing him into another kiss.

You raise up with an unsteady arm, toppling forward to press your lips to his, but you miss and land near the corner of his mouth. At your disappointed grown, Lando moves to kiss you chastely, before he looks at Carlos.

The older man’s eyes are silken as they dance between you and his boyfriend. It takes Lando tugging him forward with a hand on his bicep for him to understand that you’re pining for a kiss from him as well.

The Spaniard catches the strangled mewl you make with his lips, the change in angle as he hovers over you amplifying the pressure of him within you tenfold. Delicately, he leads the dance of tongues, using the lip lock to distract you from the barely there roll of his hips.

It works, the nervous tension that had gathered in your core unraveling completely at the sensual rock. The grinds remain tender as he gradually works you up to weightier strokes and a quicker rhythm.

Your lips uncouple when your head lulls backwards, a drawn-out purr rolling underneath your chest. With your knees bending to cradle Carlos’s hips, you cast lidded eyes to the Spaniard, bathing underneath his appreciative gaze and the blissful twist to his brows as he rolls into you.

“Carlitos, fóllame,” you murmur, watching his eyes widen in surprise, “I said it’s been a long time, not that I’m going to break.” [Fuck me.]

Lando grins beside you, quieting his laughter by pressing his face into your hair. The older man flusters, a red flush spreading across his chest, and he reminds you that he’d promised to be gentle.

His dedication to his word is attractive and you’re thankful he followed through. You tell him as such, but not without another teasing jab, “Thank you for being gentle. However, I think continuing to be gentle when I ask for more might decrease your chances at a third date.”

Lando jerks upwards to gape at the two of you, frazzled, “That’s not even funny! Babe—do better!”

The brown-eyed man doesn’t entertain either of you with a verbal response.

A bitten-off shout is punched from your chest as his hips slam into you with vigor, your vision crossing as the older man settles into a hard pace. His cock threatens to slip out of you with every stroke out and your body jolts with every ruthless thrust inside, the maddening force turning your mind syrupy with arousal and lightning-hot pleasure.

Endless praise is voiced by Carlos between every rough grunting pant he releases. Your brain is filled with seductive words; bien chica, so tight, you sound so pretty, you can take it.

You can only hope he hears your gratitude through your repeated moans. You dig your nails into his muscled back as he grazes your sweet spot every couple of thrusts. The sharp pain only has Carlos’s hips stuttering for a moment. He growls, his grip turns bruising as he fucks into you with abandon. Your lungs burn and your legs shake. You squirm beneath him fruitlessly, attempting to buck away from the overwhelming grind, but you're pinned underneath his body weight. Your escape attempt is noticed by both men.

Lando tuts, pressing you down into the mattress with an arm around your waist to prevent any future attempt of you shifting. “Don’t run from it, sunshine.”

Carlos laughs sardonically, and you squeal as shame crawls along your synapses at the noise. He changes the angle of his thrusts to bully that spongy spot inside of you relentlessly, “It’s not too much, no? I thought you said you didn’t want me to be gentle?”

Your body curls in distress, mouth-parted wide at the excruciating attention paid to your most nirvanic point . You try to squeeze your walls tighter around him, to afflict a hint of the unbearable pleasure he’s wreaked upon you. Your shocked to discover that he’s fucked you open so well that your cunt can’t do much more than take what he gives you.

Your wetness squelches with his motions, a thin layer of sweat accumulates on your skin and steams the air around you. The scent of sex and aftertaste of ice cream permeates your mind as your orgasm peaks.

It bursts through you, the intensity slamming through you like a train. Your body falls limp as the pleasure overrides your control, the unrestrained screams of their names are piercing as the waves brutally crash over you.

Carlos slams his lips to yours, your teeth clacking together painfully and you can only pant into his mouth as he messily kisses you through your orgasm and steamrolls into his own with his strongest pounding thrusts.

Spanish curses are hidden by your mouth as he lays into you, like he’s not quite done molding you to his shape. He fucks you both through it, the vigor of his grinds wearing as the spurts of his spend slows within the condom.

His arms buckle, pushing an umphf from your chest as he falls onto you. The heaviness is grounding and you wrap your arms around him, shuddering through the aftershocks.

Lando shifts needily at your side, but doesn’t speak. He pulls the arm on your waist from underneath his Carlos’s torso and drags a finger along the reddened scores your nails carved into his boyfriend’s back, with a look in your eyes you can’t place. Is it envy? Quietly, you contemplate the ache you feel between your legs.

“Get naked, cariño,” you rasp, finding a second wind at the younger man doing as you asked, “It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t get a turn, too.”

Carlos nuzzles deeper into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, his lips and eyelashes tickling your cooling skin. He misses the sight of his boyfriend wildly flinging his briefs to an unknown corner of the bedroom.

Sitting on his haunches, the Brit’s reaches to grab his cock. It’s leaking and (concerningly) redder than the skin of his cheeks from the lack of attention paid to it. He yanks his hand back as if slapped, and digs his nails into the meat of his thighs.

Oh, you think, is it too much for him or is he not supposed to touch?

You reach to close your palm around his poor, dripping length, only managing a single, loose stroke when a pained hiss is ripped from Lando’s teeth. His hips jerk back, freeing himself from barely there hold of your hand. The toned muscles of his abdomen jump as his cock flares and a stream of precum dribbles from his swollen tip.

“Fu-uck,” he shakes, “— ‘can’t. Too sensitive, ‘ll cum.”

The green and blue pools of his eyes are wet with moisture, and his chest—dotted with moles and patches of flushed skin—trembles with every inhale. The man laying on your chest shifts to trail his eyes over Lando’s form. The corner of his lips tilts into a smirk as his boyfriend attempts to hide his arousal behind a hand.

“Sol,” Carlos says to you as his eyes remain piercing into the Brit, “You should ride him—if you are able to, of course.” [Sunshine/Sun]

“Uhh…” you stutter, your attention bouncing between the two as you refrain from answering.

The numbness settling within your cunt can be ignored if it means you get to have the younger man underneath you. Except, it looks like he’s about to cry, and you don’t want to pressure him into agreeing with your answer if he honestly can’t handle it. The teary-eyed man whimpers thinly, splaying himself on his back next to you, looking past you to meet Carlos’s eyes meekly, his voice tiny as he responds, “—won’t last.”

The Spaniard pulls out of you slowly, murmuring apologies and kissing your cheekbone when your brow twinges in discomfort. He helps you straddle the younger man’s hips, careful to support you as your legs haven’t stopped quivering.

His hand drifts between your pelvises, dragging a nail along the underside of Lando’s cock and you can’t deny the buzz of electricity that sings in your gut at the younger man’s wounded cry. The tears spill over his waterline, though he’s squeezed his eyes shut to try to stop them from falling. Carlos tuts at the man patronizingly.

“Too much, Landito?” Carlos pouts at him, “It is fine if you cannot take it. If you don’t want to cum tonight that’s—“

Lando’s eyelids spring open, looking at Carlos desperately as he babbles, “No,no,no,no—‘wanna cum. Please, ‘los.”

The seconds Carlos spends rolling protection over Lando’s cock are filled with choked gasps as the younger man cries, overwhelmed at the lightest touch of fingertips. You lower around his cock smoothly, walls clenching around him greedily, vision tunneling on the soundless bliss of his expression when your ass meets his skin.

You hum at the fullness, your mind settling at how right it feels. The first circle of your hips has Lando’s hands clawing at your hips, adding his own marks on your skin to compliment his boyfriend’s. He wriggles, overwhelmed, but bucks to meet your rolling body regardless.

He’s flushed from head to waist, fresh tears painting tracks of salt down his face before they drip off his jawline to splash on the bed sheets. Your pace remains tantric, and you don’t move more than an inch upwards to avoid testing his limits. The suckling, hot, drag is more than enough for him, if the pulsing of his cock is any telling. Your own sensitivity begins to bite at the base of your spine, your brain exhausted at the feeling of Lando pressing into the rawness that Carlos carved out.

The Spaniard must notice the way the two of you are tiring of chasing euphoria. Lando’s grinds weaken as the precipice of ecstasy is dangled in front of him, hoarse sobs racking through him as he fails to reach it on his own. Carlos splays his hand across Lando’s throat. The Brit’s whimpers pleadingly, and his mouth parts roundly as his boyfriend applies a light pressure to the sides of his neck.

Lando shakes apart underneath you with uneven thrusts, his helpless gasps echoing through the room as you continue the grind of your hips to coax him through the bliss of release. He bodily restricts your movements when you edge him towards too-much, pulling you off of him with a single hand underneath your thigh.

Your knees buckle, pitching over to lie face down next to the British man, who mewls sharply as Carlos pulls the soiled condom off. The heat of the Spaniard disappears, the sheets ruffling as he leaves the bed, causing Lando to make a noise of confusion.

“Water, mi amor,” Carlos chuckles, and you’re happy your face is hidden as you can’t contain your expression of envy at the endearment. He maneuvers Lando’s arms to curl around you, “I am getting us water. I will be quick.”

The younger man, as fucked-out as he is, uses a surprising amount of force to pull you into his chest as he buries his nose in your frazzled nest of hair. He uses his other hand to pull your leg around his hip and hums happily when your bodies press together without an ounce of space to spare. He squeezes you tightly, your dejected frown disappearing as you bask in his embrace, uncaring of the layer of sweat pooling on your cooling skin and the stickiness of your thighs.

There’s three cups with straws in Carlos’s hands as he rejoins the two of you on the bed. He sets one on the nightstand and holds the other two while you and Lando untangle your limbs. Once Carlos is satisfied by the slow sips you two take, he slinks into the bathroom and returns with a warm, soaked cloth to wipe the grime from everyone’s bodies.

He’s careful about the press of the rag, paying attention to every muscle that tenses in sensitivity and tries to do the job as painless as possible. He nods in content once finished, scooping his glass up to rehydrate himself as well.

Lando bites at the metal straw, the gap of his teeth ridiculously cute even as his eyes brighten with mischief, “So…five minutes and we go again?”

“¡Que te jodan!” You cast a look of disbelief at him, “Lando you just cried through an entire orgasm and you want to go again? Already?” [Fuck you!]

The Brit shrugs loftily, slurping through the last bit of water in his cup and toothily smiling as he blinks at you in feigned innocence. His softened length twitches to attention, and you rest your head in your hand, shutting your eyes briefly for strength.

“Oh, what the hell,” you mumble, before clearing your throat, speaking louder, “I need like 15 minutes—or, until I can feel my legs again. Whichever comes first.”

Carlos collects the empty cup from Lando and sets it on the nightstand with his own. “Would you like to watch him fall apart around me while you wait?”

You choke on the sip of water in your mouth, coughing desperately to clear your throat as your eyes water from the burn. The worried look in the Spaniard’s eyes has an amused tinge to it, even as he pats you on the back in aid—you have a feeling he timed his question with your swallow on purpose.

“That’s a stupid question,” you croak, strangled, “Of course, I want to watch.”

You snuffle against a warmed patch of skin annoyed. The heat of sunlight paints your face golden, and you shift to burrow further into the warmth of limbs around you to drowsily slip back into sleep. You find yourself nodding off, but your ears become alert to the sounds of birds calling and chirping outside.

Your body reacts before your brain as you fly upwards into a seated position. Shit! You have to go to work!

A pained whimper is exhaled as your lower body aches, sore from last night’s activities. The tangle of tanned arms fall limply around your waist at your change in position, the snores of the two men beside you uninterrupted. You carefully pry their arms away, and slip from the bed, digging through the pile of clothes on the floor, grinding your teeth at the numbness of your legs underneath you.

You dress yourself quickly, closing your eyes in thanks for Carlos forcing you into the shower before you passed out. Hopping across the bedroom to tug your skirt up, you stumble into the bathroom to examine the state you're in, pulling your shirt over your head all the while.

Your curls are a mess, but that can be fixed at work. Lando respected your wishes of keeping his marks below the collar, but you can spot a few of the bruises on your thighs that their fingertips left.

You curse briefly, unsure if you have a skirt long enough that would hide the mottled skin before remembering that you have a pair of biker shorts that you can slide on underneath that will get the job done. Pressing a thumb into the shape of Carlos’s thumb, you shiver at the glance of pain that sparks up your spine, swallowing tightly as you recall how it was left there.

With a shake of your head to expel the unseemly thoughts, you turn the faucet on to splash water on your face. You need to call an Uber to get to work. Rushing out of the en-suite, you frantically search for your phone, trying to remain silent to avoid waking up the boys tucked in that ridiculously plush mattress.

“¿Qué estas buscando?” You screech frightfully at the rough timber of Carlos’ voice, spinning around to look at him. [What are you looking for?]

He’s preciously ruffled; his hair sticks up wildly, the comforter draped around his waist as he leans upwards, the planes of his tanned skin sharp in the morning hours, his eyes squinted in your direction under the brightness of the room—the curtains are wide open.

Did you have sex—illuminated with a single lamp—with the curtains wide open? That’s a problem to fixate over later, you need your phone.

“Have you seen my phone? I can’t find it,” you straighten your shirt, your volume quieting near the end of your sentence as Lando shifts in the bed with a displeased pout that softens when he settles.

“I plugged it in here for you,” Carlos whispers, rolling to take it off the charger, flashing the marks your nails etched into his back.

He lifts himself out of bed with a rough groan, your mouth drying as you watch him walk to you, clad in a pair of boxers that leave little (it’s not little at all, actually) to the imagination. Carlos’s hand cushions your cheek as he brushes his lips on yours softly, the delicate rhythm washing away your concerns about being late.

Your lips break apart with a soft pop and he laughs at the discontented sigh you exhale, offering a languid press of lips to your forehead in apology. You reluctantly take the phone from his hand, your eyes bugging out as you realize that you needed to leave five minutes ago to have plenty of time to fix your appearance before you clock in.

“¡Puta madre!” you exclaim, “I’m fucked. I’m going to be so late ‘cause I have to wait for an car.”

“ —Wait for a car?” Carlos’s eyebrows twist in confusion, scratching at his stubble, “Where are you going? You are not staying?”

You throw him a soft look, turning away to figure out where your socks disappeared to, “I’m late for work, Carlitos. I can’t stay—even though I really want to.”

Carlos ah’s in understanding, assisting you in the search for your socks, his voice still croaky with disuse as he talks, “I can drive you? We are only twenty minutes away if you follow the road laws.”

You huff a laugh at his insinuation, tugging your socks on and patting at his arm softly, before gesturing to Lando in the bed, “You don’t have to. I don’t want to inconvenience you, you should be in bed with him. It’s my fault for not having my alarm properly set.”

Carlos shakes his head, rooting through his dresser for a pair of sweatpants that he pulls on, “You are not inconveniencing me. It would be rude if I let you be late to work after last night. I’m not that kind of man. Neither of us are.”

You give in as you watch him pull a plain white tee over his head—he’s too sweet for a fleeting romance. He ambles over to Lando, brushing the unruly curls off his forehead and pressing a kiss to his temple. He tucks the blankets around his boyfriend and a lick of jealousy blooms in your subconscious before you pluck it.

Carlos grabs his own phone off another charger and stands, speaking to you warmly, “Your shoes and purse are downstairs, yes? There’s some protein bars in the kitchen pantry, grab as many as you want. I should have treated you to a proper breakfast but you do not have the time. I’m going to use the bathroom quickly, if that’s okay?”

You nod, and Carlos quietly shuts the bathroom door behind him. You breathe deeply at the situation you’ve found yourself in, and you scramble to send a quick text to the group chat telling them to cover for you and promising to cover a shift for anybody who does in the future.

Your phone buzzes almost instantly after with an influx of messages and you click the screen off. They’re probably freaking out at the uncharacteristic vagueness of your whereabouts, but you put off responding to press your own kiss to Lando’s temple before heading downstairs, tenderly stepping to minimize the unsteadiness of your walk.

You appreciate the decor you didn’t get to see last night, the vacation home vibes blatant as you walk through; a modern twist of Spanish style decor. There’s even a fireplace you spot on your way past a sitting room.

You lace up your sneakers, grabbing your purse from the console table in the entryway before searching for the kitchen to grab a protein bar to hold you over until your lunch break. The kitchen is artful, modern in the sense of the new appliances but the colors and details of the tiled walls, clutter, and cabinets gives it a soul. It feels lived in.

You dryly swallow an ibuprofen—you always carry a few in your purse—hoping it will relieve your soreness before work. You open the pantry door, finding an assortment of protein bars and taking your time to read the labels as you hear a door open which means Carlos is heading down. You grab two bars that fit your taste and softly shut the door, unwrapping one to take a bite of now.

“Ah, I knew I would see you again,” Carlos Sr. smiles at you from the kitchen entry, chuckling at the way you jump and nearly drop the bars in your hands, “I will not lie to you, I thought it would be at the golf club and not here.”

Your lips part and seal as you search for a polite answer, but he continues speaking.

“Let me tell you a secret,” he clasps his hands delightfully, “Did my son tell you that he’s been asking me about you every time I am on the course? Papá, did you see her? Papá, when are you going back to Madrid? Aye, they’re smitten over you, mija?”

“¿En serio?” you relax at his mellow tone, enlightened by the new information. [Really?]

“¡Sí!” The older man exclaims, passing by you to start a pot of coffee, “To be honest, I thought you were out of their league last summer,” you laugh, knowing it’s definitely the other way around, “—Honestly!” He insists, turning to face you as the coffee starts to drip.

“I mean, you are in university, getting a further degree,” he shakes his head in respect of your commitment, “Those two just drive in circles for a living! I couldn’t even convince my son to drive rally like I did, ese cabrón.” [That bastard.]

You laugh a little harder at the jab on his own son, muffling it behind a hand, and he continues, “—And, when they told me they did not get your number! Ay! I was so mad at them. I told them to drop everything and go after you, but by the time they made their way up there you were already gone.”

You feel like shit about your outburst on the green. Your expression shutters, and he pats at your shoulder in comfort, “Oh. I-I didn’t know—“

“How could you?” He hums in question, “It is not your fault, if that’s what you are—“

“Mi sol, have you seen my wallet—” Carlos Jr. steps into the kitchen, words cutting off as he balks at the sight of his father, and he shouts, “Papá! ¿Qué hace aquí?” [My sunshine; Dad! What are you doing here?]

“¿Qué estoy haciendo en la casa que compré?” His dad fires back, amused at his son’s stunned question. [What am I doing in the house I bought?]

Carlos blinks at his dad before turning to you, slipping his hand into yours and tugging you out of the kitchen softly, “Let’s go; you’re going to be late, no?”

Sr. chortles as he grabs a mug from the cabinet, “¡Mijo! Hiding a woman from me?! It is okay, Lando will tell me everything. That is why he’s my favorite son!”

Carlos throws his head back with an exasperated groan, but it doesn’t hide the redness of his ears from his father’s teasing.

You stifle your smile, squeezing his hand pacifyingly, “Your wallet is in the bowl at the front. Um, if it’s possible,” you tuck a curl behind your ear shyly, “Do you have another car besides the Ferrari? I love it, but I cannot show up stepping out of that.”

Carlos snorts, shoving his wallet into his pocket and leading you to the garage, “Is a Porsche fine?”

“It’ll work.”

He gets you there in thirteen minutes, slowing the car to a crawl as you direct him to the employee entrance. You grab your purse, awkwardly pausing as you pop the door open.

You face him with a sheepish grin, “Thank you for the ride. Tell Lando I said good morning.”

Carlos drags his eyes over your form languidly, before he nods imperceptibly, “Do you have enough time to get ready?”

“You’ve made up a few extra minutes for me with your skilled driving on the way here,” Carlos huffs a laugh at that, “So, I should be okay.”

The two of you fall back into silence, unsure of what else to say. You take the leap of faith this time around, it’s the most you can do after learning the way they tried to catch you before you left last summer.

“It wouldn’t be overstepping if I kissed you, right?”

“Ven aquí,” Carlos exhales, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning over the console to meet you halfway. [Come here.]

His lips are swollen and textured from your’s and Lando’s combined attention, but the kiss is the sweetest and most tender one you’ve ever experienced. The soft exhale of breath from his nose stokes the butterflies in your stomach, who flutter awake as adoration pumps through your veins. The two of you part, eyes fluttering open to stare softly. He settles back into his seat, looking at your lips longingly, his line of sight broken as you exit the vehicle.

You clear your throat, “Um, I’ll text you guys when I get home later, okay? Adiós, te qu—hasta luego.” [Bye, I l—see you later.]

You shut the door and speed walk into the building before he could say anything about how you nearly exposed how down bad you are already. You hope he doesn’t bring it up, for the sake of your mental stability. The moment you step into the employee locker room, you're accosted by your friends, Isa, Lucas, and Stephanie.

“Damn,” Lucas snaps, “I was really hoping you’d be late. I need my shift on Tuesday covered.”

You shrug, sliding past the girls to walk to your locker. “Sucks to suck.”

“¡Oye, pequeña!” Isa and Stephanie box you in at your locker as you grab your spare uniform and sport shorts, Isa stresses, “You cannot, walk in here and act like nothing happened! You show up wearing the outfit I picked out for you yesterday? Your hair is a mess! You sent the vaguest text about possibly showing up late? And, you get dropped off in a Porsche!?” [Hey, girly(i guess, idrk how to explain it)!]

Stephanie’s eyes blow wide and you rest your head into the cool metal of your locker door as she bursts, “Girl—did you get laid?!”

“Thank you for that, Steph,” you bite out, turning to look at them with the politest grimace you can muster, “Now, everyone will know exactly what I got up to last night because Lucas—,” you point behind you with a thumb, speaking loudly to drive your words in, “—Is physically incapable of keeping his mouth shut.”

He raises his hands up and backs out of the locker room with a devious smile.

Turning to Isa, you shake your head, “I do not know why you like him. He’s such a chismosa.” [Gossip.]

She rolls her eyes at you, following you as you make your way into the bathroom, “It’s not a bad thing. He tells me all of the gossip I miss out on–why are there bruises on your thigh—holy fuck! He must have big hands. Which means he has a big—”

“Okay!” You screech, running into a stall and locking the door shut behind you, “I will tell you and the girls every single detail as soon as we finish today!”

She makes a triumphant noise, her steps fading as she exits the restroom, “You better! Or, I’ll force you to listen to me wax poetic about Lucas’s eyes for hours!”

Scoffing, you tug your shirt over your head and yell back, “You already do that anyways!”

The slicked-back ponytail you gelled your hair into, has already sprung flyaways since you didn’t have enough time to set your hair with a wrap before you had to drive out onto the course. You’re almost three hours into your shift, and the sun feels like it’s at its strongest even though you have a few more hours of it burning hotter. Only twenty minutes until lunch, you remind yourself, then you can fix your hair and cool down in the restaurant's walk-in freezer.

You’ve just finished serving a bachelor party, a group of ten men who didn’t give you a hard time. You talked loosely with them, engaging in small talk because connections are everything and you never know who you might run into on the green.

Like Carlos and Lando, case in point.

The groom-to-be actually met his fiancé here. She was a bartender in the clubhouse about seven years ago, and on complete chance she ended up being the one to serve him. He was starry-eyed as he explained to you that he fell in love with her as soon as he saw her. He ordered an unbelievably expensive amount of drinks for him and his boys (the same group of men in the bachelor party), and when she slid the bill over to him, he said, “For this price, you could’ve bought me for the night.”

You called bullshit, and he looked at his friends who backed up his words; they all heard it when he said it. You watched as he took a sip from his beer bottle with a reverent shake of his head, “Now, we’re getting married next week. On August 12th, or 8/12. Which was the price of the tab that night, $812.”

You made a joke about him needing to strengthen his self-esteem if he would consider selling his body for a measly $800, and to attend an A.A. meeting because that’s a ridiculous amount of money to spend on drinks that leave your system quicker than you ingested them.

The men crowed in laughter at your ribbing of the groom-to-be, but you did seriously congratulate him on his engagement and wished him a long, happy marriage.

And currently, you’ve parked your cart for a few minutes to get over the urge you feel to cry. You're jealous of a woman you’ve never met before because she gets to love a man who’s devoting the rest of his life to her. She gets to marry him, and you’ve agreed to be nothing more than a summer romance to the men you could see yourself falling in love with.

You thank the universe for allowing you to cross paths with the groom-to-be. It reminded you of your place with the Formula One drivers and it’s a temporary one.

Your walkie-talkie crackles with the sound of your name and you sniffle deeply, blinking your eyes quickly to rid the moisture.

“What’s up?” You chirp cheerily into the voice box, waiting for a response.

“By chance, are you missing your earrings? Over.” It’s Ryan, he takes his radio messages seriously. You tug at your earlobes, and damn, you feel naked.

“I am. Did I leave them in the dressing room?”

“You have to say ‘over’ at the end of your messages, you know that. Over.”

“Ryan...” you hold the line open to annoy him a little bit before you give in, “Did I leave them in the dressing room? O-v-e-r, over.”

“I was going to be nice to you but you lost that chance. Over.”

You snort, intrigued to hear how he’s going to ‘retaliate.’ The two of you started here at the same time and Ryan has become like a little brother to you, against your will.

“I just wanted to let you know that two objectively handsome men turned in your earrings to the front desk,” you shout in surprise, firing up the golf cart and slamming the pedal down to head back to the clubhouse, “Hmm…I think they said you left them at their house last night. Overrrrr.” He draws the ‘over’ out teasingly and the walkie-talkie squeals with static and screams of surprise from the other employees on the channel.

“TWO? YOU FREAK!!!” Lucas.

Incoherent screaming. Isa.

“Nobody here can call me a slut anymore!” Rob.

“Is that why you couldn’t sit comfortably at the morning meeting?!” Sofia.

Ryan’s voice crackles through, “Oh! I forgot to mention—don’t worry about stealing food from the restaurant for lunch; they dropped off a meal for you. Over.”

The walkie-talkie explodes with noise and you turn the volume to zero. You’re reporting them all to HR.

You tune out the jeers in the break room as you devour a croquetade jamón and chase it with a spoonful of rice. You send a photo of the food with a thumbs-up in the frame, to Carlos and Lando. You type out your thanks for the jewelry return and lunch. There’s no hesitation as you press send on message inquiring about when the third date is going to happen.

The third date is private cooking lesson where you’re coached through making a few classic Spanish tapas. Lando immersed too deeply and only responded to ‘Chef Lando’ during the class. Carlos ate all of the chorizo he was supposed to use on his flatbread. You terrify the actual chef with your less than savory cutting technique. Your torn apart on their fingers that night, as they take turns coaxing you over the cliff.

You decrease the amount hours you’re able to work at the golf course. You’re only on the schedule during the middle of the week–Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday—leaving you with a four day weekend to frolic around Madrid with your boyfr—with Carlos and Lando.

The fourth date is dinner and a show. It’s your first time watching a ballet, and your lucky enough to be watching the performance at Teatro Real, one of the most prestigious opera houses in Europe. It’s also the first time you get railed in a women’s bathroom stall at Teatro Real, one of the most prestigious opera houses in Europe.

Lando pants raggedly as he fucks into you from behind, “Ah—shit, sunshine, you’re so tight.”

Your moan is muffled around Carlos’s cock and he hisses at the vibration, knocking his head against the stall door loudy.

When Lando climaxes, he whimpers out a, “te quiero.” You pretend to miss it as you concentrate on sucking Carlos to completion. Carlos licks his spend from your tongue, babbling his te quiero’s into your mouth. You don’t say it back. [Te quiero means I love you, but it’s more casual, less serious in nature.]

The fifth date is pottery and you ride Carlos’s face to the image of Lando’s hands coning down his clay on the wheel. The sixth date is driving around the outskirts of Madrd’s city limits and passing the phone around to queue a song to play as you three switch between talking and enjoying the tunes.

The seventh date is painting the mugs you made; you made two, one for Carlos and one for Lando—they each made you one as well. You’ve painted Carlos’s as a lemon and Lando’s as an orange—and homage to the sip of sunshine line they pulled on you. Lando painted a field of sunflowers for you. Carlos painted a sun with rays spilling from it, the words ‘my sunshine’ scripted into the middle of the sun.

Somewhere between the fifth and seventh date, they became comfortable with saying te quiero to you outside of sex.

It’s said as you serve them drinks on the course, as they drop you of at home after dates, as they cuddle with you without wanting more, as they wake you up between them in the morning.

You give in somewhere beewen the sixth and seventh date. But, you only allow yourself to say te quiero during or after sex.

And, you stifle your sobs of anguish into your pillow at home, dreading the day you return to school and they return to racing.

Your dad enjoys the mobile car show of priceless automobiles that appear in his driveway to pick you up. Your mom eagerly awaits your renditions of your dates every night and you’re careful to edit around the explicit parts.

The dates progress to you spending your four days off at their Carlos Sr. 's vacation home, packing a bag with your necessities so you don’t have to risk wasting time away from them by stopping at your house. They take the time to explain to you just how much of a goat Lewis Hamilton is. Lando helps with your wash day, soaking up your tidbits of advice for his own curls. Carlos lets you soundboard ideas for your dissertation off of him without complaining, iterjecting every once in a while with a viewpoint you hadn’t considered.

Your craving for intimacy is satiated. They twirl you around in the kitchen to Spanish ballads they sing terribly at the top of their lungs. They terrorize you on the green, choosing increasingly difficult cocktails for you to make so you have to spend more time with them instead of doing your job. You and Carlos terrorize Lando with a football games of keep away. You and Lando terrorize Carlos by hiding his shirts from him so he has to walk around topless. They don’t terrorize you in retaliation—if you don’t count their constant te quiero’s as terrorizing acts.They pick you up at some ridiculous hours when you’ve gone clubbing with your friends; making sure you chug a glass of water, helping you rinse off in the shower and moisturizing your skin before dressing you in their clothes, doing your skincare for you before putting you to bed.

They drag their feet through helping you repack your belongings on the morning of your last day in Spain. You let Lando get away with tugging garments out of your bag every time you turn your back to him, hiding your smile as you see Carlos assist him by stuffing it at the bottom of the pile of clothes that doesn’t seem to shrink.

Eventually, they give up. Their eyes trace your form as you do your last walkaround to make sure you haven’t left anything behind. Your check ends at the front door, grabbing your keys from the bowl on the entryway table.

You sigh heavily, “Well, don’t just stand there.”

They gravitate towards you, hugging you tightly and peppering an endless amount of bittersweet kisses along any patch of skin they can reach. Lando hunches down to hide his face in your neck, and Carlos rests his forehead against yours.

“¡Chicos, calmaté!” Your giggly exclamation sounds watery, “I am coming back next year, remember?”

“That’s too longgg,” Lando complains into your neck, his voice sounding as pitiful as yours. You step backwards to cradle his face between your hands. His cheeks are ruddy and his eyes are dejected even as he smiles shakily under your touch.

“Date us.” Carlos blurts out desperately, “Ay, perdóname—May we date you, please?” [Forgive me.]

You gape at the older man, struggling to ascertain what he’s asked of you.

Stumbling gracelessly, your hands fall from Lando’s face, who makes a hurt noise at the loss. “Date me? I thought you both said this was just a fling?”

The Brit twists his hands together at your words, his face saddening further as he corrects you, “Summer romance—fling is too harsh.”

“Too casual?” You shout, “I thought this was supposed to be casual! I felt like shit whenever I didn’t say te quiero back! I wanted more the moment we sat down at that restaurant a month ago, but I thought I couldn’t have it because that’s not what we agreed on!”

“You want more?” Carlos clarifies, his tone optimistic.

“¡Cabrón!” You laugh, hurtling forward to throw your arms around his neck. Relieved tears spill over your waterline, soaking into the Spaniard’s shirt. “I’m damn near in love with you guys–yes,yes,yes, I want more.”

Lando glows, blubbering incoherently with happiness and you shush him with your lips.

“I wish you had asked me days ago,” you sniffle cutely, smiling crookedly as you continue, “—’cause I really do have to leave, or I won’t have enough time to pack my things into my suitcases at home.”

You groan as you find yourself with an armful of two Formula One drivers bemoaning the unfairness of being separated from you even though they just got you.

“Mis amores, escúchame—you had me the entire time,” you coo, “We all know how phones work. We can communicate speedily with texts, and video calls, and send voice messages, and even regular calls. If we’re doing this we have to have a serious talk about it when I land in the States, yeah? Long distance is difficult, but I’m willing to put in the effort to make it work, if you two do the same.” [My loves, listen to me.]

“Phone sex isn’t the worst thing in the world,” Lando quips, smiling as he watches you and Carlos chortle at the unexpected comment.

The laughter ringing through the air fizzles out. You bite your lip, shaking your head slightly as their stares fixate on your mouth. They haven’t managed to stop ogling at your lips over the course of the month.

“Te quiero,” you state. Lando repeats it back instantly, Carlos kisses you before doing the same.

You pick up your bag from the floor, “Promise me that you’ll do your best to make this relationship work.”

Their confirmations are swift, even taking turns crossing their pinkies with yours and with themselves. Your heart sings with love. They walk you to your car. Carlos takes the bag from your hand and places it in your backseat, Lando holds your door open, making sure you don’t hit your head as you sit in the driver’s seat.

He shuts the door smoothly, and you roll down the window to exchange your last goodbyes.

“See you next summer.”

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@isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion/@tremendousstarlighttragedy/@annispamz/@certifiedlesbianbaddie/@sofs16

@tomiwastilinskii/@sakuxxi/@mitruscity/@pal3rmo/@lando-505

@hahahjej/@eugene-emt-roe/@nissaimmortal

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shun-ie · 2 months ago

Text

₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝ misconceptions

content : college!au, m!reader, established relationship, anal fingering, some dirty talking, pet names, light neck kissing, light teasing, self gratification, semi-public-ish (?)

[not proofread]

m.list !

when people first lay their eyes on shoto todoroki, they would describe him with one word. reserved. imagine their surprise when they find out such guy is dating someone the opposite of him. y/n l/n.

how do they see y/n?

"oh, he's very expressive and sensitive too!"

"he's very friendly and approachable."

"he's a huge pain in my ass . . . but i guess he means well."

"he's dependable."

"he's a good kid. his grades and what his classmates say about him proves this."

polar opposites attract don't they?

despite attending the same college and taking the same program (course), they have different friend groups. todoroki hangs out with midoriya and bakugou—his friends from highschool—while y/n hangs out with shinsou—a friend he adopted during student orientation.

a curious glint sparks in bakugou's eyes as he catches a glimpse of y/n and shinsou entering the cafeteria in somewhat a rush. "who gets dicked down in your relationship shoto?"

the quietly eating man chokes on his cold soba. midoriya panics and hands him a bottle of water before lightly scolding bakugou, "kacchan! we're eating, you should save your questions after!"

bakugou merely rolls his eyes, "come on, aren't you a little curious as well?" he then cackles to himself, "maybe our friend here is taking it up the ass."

midoriya blankly stares at his laughing friend who's garnering other tables' attention. he then sighs and turns to a flustered todoroki, "don't worry about him. he's just like this because he misses eijiro."

a loud 'i do not' is ignored by the two of them. todoroki plays with his food and replies, "i don't want to discuss that part of my life."

bakugou eyes the blush creeping up todoroki's face and raises an eyebrow, "your blush says it all."

midoriya berating bakugou about decency and respect goes in one ear and out the other as todoroki watches them from the other side of the table. with a small release of breath, he starts to finish where he left off with his food.

from first year until third year, bakugou and sometimes midoriya, teased todoroki for being a bottom in the relationship. especially during times where y/n is present or is in the vicinity.

"bubs, i got you some of my favorite gummies!" y/n presents a pack of gummy bears to todoroki, who was holding a debate with bakugou.

he stops mid sentence and smiles softly towards his boyfriend, "thank you." he takes the pack and puts it in his shoulder bag to snack on later. he earns a look of curiosity and a dash of smugness from his suddenly still friend as they watch y/n walk away towards shinsou, who was waiting at the door of the teaching hall.

there were instances where y/n randomly handed todoroki things, such as food and small trinkets. which led bakugou to believe that y/n loved taking care of todoroki and showering him with gifts. which is true, except for the sexual insinuations hidden in them when bakugou addressed his claims to his friends randomly.

todoroki was so confused as to why bakugou was so invested in his sex life, but one thing was for certain, he wouldn't crack under all the assumptions of his good friend. at this point, it was just hilarious to think about.

he said he wouldn't crack. so why?

y/n whimpers as quietly as possible into the covers, trying to conceal the sounds that tried to tumble out of his lips uncontrollably. todoroki places comforting kisses on his nape as he works his finger in and out of his wet and warm hole.

why did it have to be in a sleepover that he cracked?

he shushes his boyfriend and adds a second finger. "you like that?" y/n nods his head, caving deeper into todoroki's body.

was it the teasing of bakugou while y/n was literally in front of them?

y/n bites his lips and swallows down a moan as todoroki's fingers scrape against his bundle of nerves.

was he trying to prove something?

todoroki adds a third finger and huffs in amusement, "should i fuck you while they're in the same room? huh?" he lightly nibbles on y/n's ear and lowly says, "but maybe you'll like that. i can feel you tighten from the idea of being caught."

he suddenly stops pumping his fingers and instead presses deep against his boyfriend's prostate, a quiet whine leaving y/n's lips at the pressure. "i don't want to risk getting caught sweetie," he says in faux disappointment and concern, teasingly dragging his fingers out.

a hand grabs his wrist and shoves his soaking digits back into the warmth. "i-" y/n lets out a small whimper, "i'll do all the work, just let me feel you," he breathlessly lets out.

todoroki merely smirks and presses against y/n's back, sinking his fingers deeper into his heat, "you get like this over me fingering you?" he chuckles into y/n's damp hair. he adds a fourth digit making y/n gasp.

feeling a bit dazed, he mumbles out thank yous and starts to grind into todoroki, doing all the work as he proposed. the thought of being under a duvet, in a room with their friends, flew out of y/n's mind as he chased the sweet pleasure that seemed to snatch every inch of his sanity away.

todoroki's hand suddenly clamped over his mouth. the noise he helplessly wanted to suppress getting louder the more he moved his hips like a dog in heat. at least one of them was still aware that they're two meters away from bakugou's bed.

y/n's body quivered as his grinding never ceased, feeling that familiar build up in the pits of his stomach. the heat that was about to burst. the very thing he worked for. todoroki feeling y/n tighten and tense, he pushed his fingers in deeper and pressed into the sweet spot that had his boyfriend seeing heaven.

with a cry, y/n's back arches as his release crashed into him likes waves across the shore. todoroki kisses his neck, holding him close through his euphoric high. he whispered out little praises and rubbed y/n's belly.

he pulls out his dripping fingers—eliciting a small noise—and sucking on them, savoring the taste. he wipes the remaining wetness on his shirt and hugs his exhausted boyfriend closer. "new kink discovered?" he huffs a laugh.

y/n hums, eyes fluttering close, disregarding the wet feeling in his pants, too tired to do anything but lay down and sleep. "mhm..."

when morning came, bakugou gave todoroki a squinted stare. as if accusing him of lying, before they turned into a look of why.

y/n was still in bed, shinsou was sitting outside on the balcony playing with his phone, and midoriya was cooking breakfast.

"what is it?" todoroki exasperatedly asks, setting down plates and utensils on the table. bakugou grunts and narrows his eyes at him.

he takes a seat right across from him, as if he had the plague, "you're the top." of course he had heard what happened. despite going to bed the earliest, he was woken up by the amount of noises that came from the other bed beside him. "you should have told me."

"i told you, i don't want to discuss that part of my relationship," todoroki's tone holds firmness as he lays some coasters out. he then looks over his work, nods in satisfaction, and turns to the direction of the bedrooms, planning to wake his lovely boyfriend up.

bakugou glared at him, "you never discussed it. you demonstrated it." todoroki shrugged and turned into the hall, leaving the one-sided conversation.

maybe he did crack from all the teasing. maybe he did want to prove something. did he regret anything?

no.

#shun-ie #male reader #bottom male reader #male reader smut #mha #mha x y/n #mha x male reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #hitoshi shinsou

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ejundo · 11 months ago

Text

stoner | plug 𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙖𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙭 nerdy | stressed bottom 𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ✰. : @ejundo wc : 3.4k words.

★warnings:

drug use . feminization . seduction . against a wall . literally everywhere but a bed ? . . . opposites attract . begging . deepthroating? charac receiving | i still hate warning | stuff till this day. dub con maybe? yer jus stoned asf and fucking eren. cheating sorta . caught . use of you/your — amab anatomy

you weren't one to smoke weed as much. . . Every once in awhile you had smoked and used the container that was left on the corner of your desk, but it wasn't as consistent as you had only smoked pot whenever you were desperate enough.. it had helped with your stress— and you not using your container of wax.. meant you had a lot.

that wasn't until now. . . looking at the empty container. a groan left your lips as you quickly texted your friend— who also. didn't have any wax. she had instead given you the information to her plug located in the same dormitory as you, and with a sigh you picked yourself up and headed to the exit of your dorm.

you fist curled up into a ball as you knocked gently onto the door, waiting for an answer.

and a man with brown hair tied up into a manbun stared menacingly down at you. Blinking and jumping in surprise at the sudden action, even if it was suspected.. ー you were told to be a jumpy person.

'what?' his deep voice grumbling. with a blink you opened and closed your mouth like a fish. . . he was extremely menacing even without trying. taking a deep breath in you managed to at least mutter some words.

". . . ehm. . . do you have any wax ? or just ー any weed in general. . i have the money. " the sentence was barely coherent, barely over a whisper. it was a surprise that eren even managed to hear you.

eren's gaze shifted back to you, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise. He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "well, well, well, isn't that a surprise." He raised his eyebrows, his voice low. "someone as little as you, smoking weed. nothing i woulda expected" his eyes traveled up and down your figure, observing the way you looked.

"You're lucky I've got some left," he said, his voice filled with a teasing undertone. "tell me, why do you need it? tryna relax, or is there something else that's got you all wound up hm??" He raised an eyebrow, boredom in his eyes. "this isn't the first time i've ever smoked weed. . or justー smoked pot in general . . !" with a soft and gentle voice you seemed to get your point across.

staring at you with a look of amusement eren eyed you curious. 'whatever you say lil bro.' eren shrugged before opening his door wide enough for you to slip into. slipping under his raised arm , you observed the new area. it had reeked of weed and drugs and . . it was. . clear that he was previously trying to hotbox the area.

compared to your clean, and more. . . organized dorm. tapestries and dark curtains covered the window from allowing any natural light to enter the adobe. the only light were the led lights that emitted a red color. . . some having a white color to give a more clear vision other then just. . red.

'you have a nice place. eren.' looking down at you, he nodded. clearly not one to talk. letting out a sigh, you stood awkwardly as you awaited for eren to grab what you needed, preparing the money in hand. 'its 25 for 5 grams.' he rolled the small container in his hands. . his. nice , veiny large hands. maybe . . just one paper cut?ー okay that's enough. snapping out of your thoughts. you looked up at him and panickedm he stared at you with a cold and blank expression. 'sorry. . here.' you mumbled, handing him the dollars in exchange for the container.

bowing your head, as a thanks a random voice was heard from your right. averting your gaze over to the voice, it was a lady . . with long jet black hair. ー and in just a tank top and undergarments. quickly turning your gaze away you pursed your lips together in a thin line. as it was pretty random.. for some chick to show up half naked.

'eren. . mmm who is that?' eren also seemed to turn his gaze over. 'him? he's another customer doll.' doll.. it came out of his mouth so smooth. you couldn't help it but cough awkwardly. 'ahm. . . is it okay if i have your socials? incase. . i need more?' saying in a quiet voice, he turned his attention back over to you.

'hhh. yeah, lemme jus' grab my phone real quick.' with a low tone, he reached over to a nearby counter and pulled out what you assumed was his phone. the phone screen light emitting onto his face, showing his features more. . better. it seemed as if time had slowed down . . his gaze fixated on the screen as he opened up a random app.

reading the username as he showed it to you, you nodded your head and input the name into the search bar. quickly pressing the follow button. 'thank you! ♡' you said in a cheerful voice. despite it not being intentional. 'ay , nerdy boy. . c'mere ' as you were about to take you leave, the feminine voice called out. '. .hmm? uh- yes?' you tilted your head, her gaze observing you tiredly, she then raised an eyebrow with a smile as if she had remembered who you were ' yer that nerdy boy that armin and mikasa hang out with yah?' with a nod in your head. she slammed her fist into her open one, "hah! i knew it, no wonder you looked so familiar. . nice ta meet you bro, im eren's girlfriend."

so. . you were gawking over a taken man? shame shame shame ! ! who would know though ? . exactly. you made an o shape with your mouth ' i see . . it's nice to meet you! ehm, mikasa was actually the one who had recommended me to eren,,'

well , at least you two got along correct ? uh. erens girlfriend and you. eren, on the other hand just stood there. watching between you two as you guys acted as if he wasn't there. 'can you get out?' he said at random. blinking rapidly you realized you were overstaying your welcome. . with a shocked expression you bowed multiple of times 'sorry ー ! ! ' quickly rushing out of the apartment in a hurry..

it didn't take long for eren's girlfriend to quickly grow fond of you, she immediately took a liking to you. . and you assumed it was just so you could help her with her finals . . it was no surprise that by the end of your finals week. that the container that her dear ol' boyfriend gave you. . was empty. even despite it being new!

it was the amount of stress she had put on you . whether it would be - begging you to help her cheat on the exams. but you denied every time, and helped her tutor. that wasn't enough for her though as she would literally try flirting with you. it seemed as if she didn't get that you were not straight . .

'y/n ! ! ~ ehhmm . . professor wasn't clear on the instructions for this project . . can you perhaps tell me? what it was? . . or better yet gimme tha answers hmm?' she stuck out her chest to show off more skin then needed. . with a look of sheer disgust you masked it with a smile.

mentally groaning as you practically forced yourself to not bash this textbook into her face. 'only if you manage to let eren give me a 50 percent discount. i helped you for . . the past 3 weeks.' she grinned from ear to ear as you said that. practically launching herself at you.

you seriously tried to contain yourself from jumping out the window right then and there. . .

'here let me lend you my computer- and you can do the assignment m'kay?' she caressed your neck, and with a raising hand you slapped her hand away.

'i don't like how you caress me, and. . . shove your tits in my face while you have a boyfriend.' a hint of disgust laced behind your voice, a blank expression displayed in an attempt to at least give her a hint. and she ignored it. how surprising. . not

'look darling, he wouldn't know. . i mean- you aren't bad looking. and your voice. is so attractive. . i just want to kiss - y-' you quickly moved out of her grasp by standing up. her face almost landing on the seat before she quickly caught herself.

she whined before supporting herself on her arms. 'hmph ! ! i'll make you fall in love with me one day . . ' she grumbled with a . . disgusting frown. her eyebrows furrowed while she crossed her arms.

doing as you said, your fingers typed lightly against the keyboard of her macbook. eyes glued to the screen, while you wore glasses to protect your eyes from the horrifying blue light. she really owed you big time.. a sigh emitted from your lips. fingers grazing across the mouse pad as you click send to the designated professor.

looking as if you had crawled out of a grave, a still surprisingly gentle knock made its way onto eren's door once more. waiting for a good . . five minutes the tall man had came into your view looking down upon you as you held the silver macbook in your hands. ' your girlfriend . . needs her macbook back.' he raised an eyebrow, ' shes not my girlfriend anymore.'

' . . . what.' you furrowed your eyebrows and groaned angrily. barging into the room uninvited, 'she told me she would give me a discount if i did her entire work. . and i did so. and now i am here sad and lonely with a macbook, and no more wax!' eren only looked down at you. his usual blank stoic face reading you as you ranted on and on.

'hell! she even made me suffer by shoving her tits in my FACE!? not literally . . but YOU KNOW ! ' raising an eyebrow. he clicked his tongue purposely avoiding the her trying to kiss and rub all up on you . . just to avoid any. pressure on the other.

your eyebags seemed more evident and noticeable as you ranted. but eren didn't seem to mind . . you just seemed more. attractive that way. the nerdy persona dropped as you complained, and especially the way your cute face scrunched up . . he just wondered how would it look like if he just fucked that look off your face. shaking his head he let out a sigh. his hand plopped right onto your head, making you let out a small grunt.

' was joking dude, and with that information - it seems like she might not be my girlfriend anymore' oh were you truly angry, not because of eren breaking up with her. you were always angry, every time.

with a groan, your eyes drooped, 'can i just have my gram. . i'll pay you.' eren looked you up and down. 'how about i roll you up a joint ah .. you ever tried that before? it helps a lot more then. . wax.' you didn't care at this point. dragging yourself to the nearest couch and plopping down on it.

eren had locked the door and shut the curtains, that were open and disappeared into what you assumed was his room. the led lights shining a bright vibrant red that covered the entire room. even the led lights that would have at least gave some natural white lighting was turned red. small footsteps heard as eren came back from the room. a roll evident and seen in his hand. ' sets the mood.'

you raised an eyebrow in confusion before he pointed to the l.e.d's a small oooh coming from you along with a nod. blinking slowly, you opened you mouth. and suddenly the joint was placed between your lips. ' . . smoke it like you usually would. nothing different.'

and doing as said, your body grew lighter after you exhaled the smoke into the sky. coughing heavily you held your chest, growing teary eyed before rubbing them away. ' shit ! . . ' a heavy low laugh coming from the taller man.

he made his way next to you sitting down next to you. ' wanna watch some tv?' he asked, and arm resting on the hedge of the cough behind you. ' uh yeah sure? do you have . . netflix? im tryna finish this one show. he would occasionally pass you the joint.

that helped you . . forget about her. and forget about every single thing that pissed you off. after that . . . you felt more relaxed . . and time flew by just . like . that .

it was hot

scorching

flaming !

blistering even ! !

and you weren't even outside . . it was probably the man who was sitting way to close to you his body heat emitting onto you. his gaze on your smaller form, when did he even get that close? . whatever . . with the roll in his hand. bringing it to ur lips. 'cmon. . take one more hit . '

did he mean to make it sound that? hot . . or seductive. you didn't know . . all u knew is that it made you tingle. wrapping your lips gently around the wrap, you gently sucked in inhaling the smoke. he pulled it away and he was. . . much more closer. exhaling it into his face, he didn't even seem bothered. a look of lust in his eyes as he eyed you like a piece of meat.

'y'know. . i didn't think a boy like you would make me feel a certain way. but here i am. . a desire to kiss you silly. ' you smiled before quickly pecking his surprisingly soft lips. 'jus' like that. . . ? ' a grin on his face. ' no, like this. ' and quickly he pulled your lips in for an enchanting kiss.

pulling away with half lidded eyes, you stared up at eren. . . maybe it was the led lights that made him look more attractive, or perhaps it was the desire and need for him. small strands stuck to his forehead while his hand slithered behind you, captivating you. enchanting you.

'ever gave head before doll?' eren whispered in your ear, his warm breath brushing against your ear. shaking your head. you sat up and looked at him. ' mm-mm. . ' he leaned back spreading his legs and letting his arms resting on top of the couch. ' first time for everything hm?' the bulge in his sweats seemed more noticeable. and the closer you looked it was extremely noticeable that he wasn't wearing any underwear.

with hesitated movements, your hand traced the bulge slowly rubbing on it. he was big and that was an understatement. he let out a low groan a chuckle following behind it. ' don't be scared . . . c'mon doll. ' he grinned, his large hand cupping your hands, slowly moving your hand with his slipping past the band of his sweats . . his hand wrapped around yours as you held his cock. the warm feeling new to your cold hands .

a small hum emitting from him as you stroked him, ‘fuck . .’ seeming to get the hang of it, his hand slowly slipped out of his own pants. his head thrown back as he enjoyed the pleasure. letting go you decided it was time to try something new . for you at least! his head slowly snapped back to you, a smirk displayed on his face as you got onto your knees. it had hurt staying there for a while but the blanket pulled along covered the hardwood floors.

discarding his pants you were now face to face with the leaking member that dripped pre cum. his hand travelled to your head rubbing it slowly ‘take your time doll.’ he mumbled with a low and seductive voice.

with a soft sigh, your tongue grazing along the head of his cock. lips closing in in them as you struggled to suck on it, the taste — salty yet savory. you savored the flavor, as it leaked onto your tongue.

with a pop your lips left the tip and your tongue slowly trailed down the member a saliva trail following behind. erens hand lifted your head in prder for the two of you to make eye contact. your lips stopped at a prominent vein, sucking on it as eren eyed your expression. a low chuckle coming from the other. ‘mmm. .’ a grin on his face while his hand caressed your scalp.

you and eren were now stripped of clothing. your face rested against the pillows of the couch, moans and whines leaving your lips as erens tongue lapped at your hole, everything was a blur your mind fuzzy and blank as you left his long tongue insert you. curling your toes your grip on the couch intensified.

his grasp on your ass kneaded your ass as he pulled away, observing the clean and wet hole. a grin on his face. 'think you're ready f'me doll . . .' he sat up, reaching downwards as he positioned himself between your open legs. gently pushing down he slowly inserted his cock inside. 'please . . be gentle! . . f-first time. .' you mumbled out, your head sideways against the pillow while your teary eyes stared at the brown haired man. he patted your cheek gently for reassurance. ' im not that cruel baby . ' he whispered, as he fully settled inside of you.

he waited until you were more used to his size. when you felt less tense is when he started moving at a slow pace. his hand tracing over your hot skin, in contrast to his cold hand. holding your waist as one hand traveled down slowly gripping one of your ass cheeks kneading it and spreading it as he watched him slipping in and out of you.

his member stretching you out, your whines , moans , and whines were music to his ears. ‘fnhhg!. . ist’mucherrhe!’ incoherent words slipping from you as he slowly started going at a faster pace. ‘ i know doll . be good f’me and take it well yeah? ‘ his hand snaking around your waist as he leaned foward, one hand gripping your leaking cock and the other toying and flicking your hardened nipple. slipping out of you, he slammed right back into you a moan ripping out of you repeating the process as your mind went blank.

moving at a animalistic pace, all that was heard was the consistent sound of skin slapping together and your bated and loud whimpers and moans. eren groans and moans barely audible due to yours . .

what surprised you most is at how many rounds the two of you had done. he would pin you against the wall while his cock slammed into you, your back arched and your ass stuck out. cum splattered on the wall and leaking out your ass as he fucked you over the coffee table, your legs held up to your head while he fucked into you. cum splattered in your stomach and a splash on the coffee table. his seed seeping out of you while he fucked you shamelessly on the ground. your cock rubbing on the ground while drool spilled out of your mouth and your tears stained your own cheeks.

your cum leaking onto the glistening floor, as his leaked out of your hole onto the ground. that was when the two of you reached your limit. heavy breathing could be heard from the two of you as he held you in his arms. your hole holding onto— nothing as it leaked heavily onto the ground.

eren wrapped his arms around you, but stopped as he heard the front door slam open. ‘eren baby!— waht the!…’ the familiar and aggravating voice burst through the doors. her figure still as she looked at the sight of the two of you naked, eren holding you in his arms. ‘. . . im breaking up with you?’ he said bluntly. her bag dropping to the ground as she blinked rapidly.

woops?

finally . . finished . . im dead ! ! save me ! 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹

but i kinda got lazy at the end . . wahwah the smut part kept confusing me and i was trying to make eren fuck yew guys silly and then — kabloom no!!!! my brain farted and decided to be lazy and rush it . . grr . .

#. ♡ ejundo writes !#x male reader #m reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #eren jaeger x male reader #eren x male reader #eren x m reader #mreader #malereader #male reader #xmreader #xmalereader #aot x male reader #stoner eren x male reader #nerdy male reader

1K notes · View notes

kombuuuu · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write Miles 42 where you do that one TikTok prank on him where someone keeps texting you and he gets mad and stuff and tries to look at your phone 😭

Give me the Phone.

E42!Miles x Fem!Reader

“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”

i’m gonna be real i have no clue what that trend is but the idea was adorbs 🤭

The decision to mess with him, in hindsight, may have been stupid.

But you just couldn’t help it.

So you hit record, and your friend, Anita, started bombarding you with texts, in on the bit.

It was so fun just to toy with him every now and then, get him riled up. A little angry, it was all in good fun. So it didn’t really matter in the long run, he always forgave you.

And the way he would eye you from across the room, as you giggled and smiled at your phone—.

Was pretty much worth it.

He was unable to do anything about it though, with everyone else around. Of course, you’d decided to mess with him in front of his family. When you couldn’t be called out.

His Mom and Uncle were barely two feet away from him, talking amongst themselves and occasionally addressing someone else at the inconveniently timed family gathering.

He watched you snort again as you glanced at the message, quickly smirking at the mystery-person’s notif.

No one is so eager to text with a friend. No one giggles and smiles when talking through text.

You don’t giggle at texts.

Miles leans back from his seat on the couch opposite to you, coffee table between the two of you. He drapes a hand over his knee and watches as your eyes trail him up.

He tips his head back and sighs, glaring at you from under his eyelashes. Your posture straightens and you eye his Adams apple before your screen flashes again, and your attention is gone.

This goes on for around another eight minutes before he loses his mind. He groans, checking the faces around you both to see no one in his belated family paying either of you attention.

Slowly, he gets up. Stretching to his full height and glowering down at you. You glance up at him innocently, another small smirk settled on your lips and he huffs a quick breath.

Miles rolls the joints in his neck and you can’t help but observe the way his tense posture makes him look ever-more menacing. A jolt of attraction shocking your spine.

The way his smirk curved his soft lips up,how his sunken eyes glowed threateningly on an up-cast light.

“C’mon, Mami.”

“Hmm?”

“Get up.”

He side stepped the table, being close to you now, his height towering over you from your sat position.

You sheltered the phone screen, making sure he couldn’t see you record.

“I’m busy—,”

“Now, Chiquita.”

“You can’t make me.”

The way you pouted up at him drove him mad, your eyebrows furrowing in defiance and your tone lifting.

"Bueno, entonces hagamos la cuenta regresiva."

You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god Miles! I’m not a kid.” You placed your phone face down beside you on the couch. He hummed.

Lowly, under his breath he spoke, “Three.”

“Fuck—, whatever fine. I’m up.” You roll your eyes, and push yourself up, grabbing your phone as you went.

“Talk t’me like a damn child.”

“‘S cause ya’ actin’ like a damn child.”

“Am not.”

He paused, dropping his face deadpan, and you snorted at the irony.

“See?”

“Whatever, loser. You’re just jealous i’m more fun.”

“Not what I’m jealous about.”

He slipped his palm over yours, linking your fingers with his. A few of his family members glanced your way, and you shifted in embarrassment before they looked away, paying you no mind.

Miles dragged you along with him, politely excusing himself, and you, from people who approached and made his way to his room. You following begrudgingly behind him.

He opened the door with a grip too tight, swung it open and clambered you both inside, before letting go of your hand and slowly shutting the door behind you both. Placing the key in the lock, twisting but not taking it out.

Never the type of man to trap you, or intimidate — you kind of felt bad for messing with him.

His back still to you, you let your knees hit the bed before sitting on the ledge, hands folded neatly in your lap and phone under them, shielding the screen.

Miles cracked his neck, muscles going taught before relaxing again as he turned. Eyes catching your own with a certain glee in them that felt more challenging than happy.

“Wanna ‘xplain yourself, mami?”

You huffed, only watching and pouting as he approached. Crossing your arms over your chest, and griping your forearms.

Unknowingly leaving your phone vulnerable to the man now much closer to you, just like before. Except now there wasn’t anyone stopping him from fucking with you.

“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”

Your phone buzzed.

You bit your lip and evaded smiling, smugness coming from the small win.

“Mm.” The low rumble of his voice made your eye flick back to his face, curiosity lacing your features for a spilt moment before you schooled them.

While unfocused on anything but his face, he took the opportunity to swipe your phone right from your lap, reflexes much quicker than yours.

“Hh—, Wait—!“ Your hand outstretched to try and catch the phone from his grip, but he was quicker. Holding the phone up high and placing his other hand over your shoulder so you couldn’t stand to grab it.

“Who the fuck—,” He flipped the screen toward himself, and when all he saw was your camera app open, recording for 13 minutes, and a notification from Anita, his smirk raised. One only of disbelief.

“You kiddin’?”

The camera was fixed on your sat body, and he stopped the recording, clicking Anita’s name and watching the texts appear.

You still there?

Did he find out LMAO

BROOO ARE U GETTING UR ASS BEAT LMFAOAOA

i’ll beat his ass tho fr, fight for u bbg 🫶

sorry in advance pumpkin 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

tiktoks gonna luv this

“Anita.”

He let his gaze fall on you, amusement and annoyance dancing with his emotions.

“No..” You pouted, dragging your hands back to your laps and smiling sheepishly.

“Oh my fuckin’ god, [Name].”

“It’s a prank?” Even you sounded unsure.

He snorted and glared at you, pushing you back until your back hit the bed.

“You wan’ make a tiktok? We don’ make one.”

“Wha—“

You heard the record button play before you could speak, and felt your instincts kick in a second too late bfore a pillow hit your face. You spluttered—

—Before clambering up the bed to get a pillow too.

“Oh, Fuck you!”

“Nah, Mami, wrecked your chances.”

You grabbed a pillow and swung back behind you, hitting him square in the face before he snatched it off you with a playfully pissed expression. One hand still holding the phone towards you.

You smirked at him and flipped the camera off. “Eat shit, loser.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”

You squealed and laughed, trying to grab another pillow in time before your ankle was grabbed and dragged down the bed, your laughter following.

You did in fact, regret it.

—

+BONUS!!!

“How’s it feel to fuckin’ lose?”

Miles grinned behind the camera, braids loosened slightly due to the tussling between you two—,

“Die.”

He laughed and ended the recording.

“Y’know I love you?”

You pouted, resisting the need in your fluttering heart to smile up at him.

“Yeah, yeah— whatever, big boy.”

“Good, cause i’m posting that.”

“Morales!”

—

DONE!!! HOPE I DIDNT BUTCHER IT :3

#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #earth42!miles #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales x you #miles my beloved #miles g #Miles g x reader #miles morales prowler #prowler morales

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mayasikeu · 3 months ago

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hii<3 I really wanna put in a request for sunghoon x reader where reader is very sweet and bubbly and LOVES PINK, wbk that sunghoon doesn't like pink, but whenever he sees her he loses his mind a little, he finds her absolutely adorable, sweet enough to eat. You can make this nsfw btw!

Sunghoon would’ve never expected to end up with a girl like you. You were the complete opposite of him, bubbly, kind, talkative and the biggest extrovert he’s ever met. I guess it’s because opposites attract because Sunghoon absolutely adored everything about you. He loved your personality, the way you would dress, and of course your obsession with the color pink.

Sunghoon stepped inside your bedroom, his tall, broad figure filling the doorway, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes met yours. “You really love pink, don’t you, princess?”

You nodded shyly, “I do… is it weird?”

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, “It’s not weird at all, princess. It’s adorable.”

“Do you think so?” you said, your face lighting up. “You’re so adorable I could just eat you up.” he teased, your cheeks began to redden from all of the praises he was showering you with. He took a step closer, “But you know what I love even more?” his tone suddenly switched, sounding more seductive.

“W-What?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he brushed his long fingers across your cheek before sliding them down to your chin, lifting it up gently and forcing you to meet his eyes.

“I love how submissive you get for me”

His thumb teased over your lips as you parted them, letting him slide it inside inside. Gently, you began to suck on it.

Sunghoon’s gaze intensified as a low groan escaped his mouth. “Just like that. Good girl” he praised, his tone making your cunt throb with need.

He withdrew his thumb, and you whimpered at the loss, but he quickly silenced you with a kiss.

You felt yourself melting in his touch as he wrapped an arm around your waist. Your dainty fingers tangled in between his locks.

When he finally pulled back, your lips were swollen and slick with his saliva.

“On the bed,” he ordered.

You obeyed instantly, climbing onto the pink sheets and laying yourself in the centre. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he undid the buttons of his stark white shirt, revealing his chest muscles beneath. Your mouth salivated at the sight.

He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself above you. His hands glided over your body, as if he was memorising you. When he reached the end of your dress, he paused.

“Take it off,” he commanded, you quickly pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it onto the floor. You were left in nothing but your lacy pink underwear, the color matching the room perfectly.

“You look so fucking pretty in pink” he growled with satisfaction, his hands exploring your exposed skin. He leaned down, pressing kisses onto your neck and your collarbone before his mouth found your nipple. You clenched onto the sheets due to the sensitivity. You arched into him, desperate for more, but he took his time, teasing you with soft touches that left you wanting more.

“Please” you whimpered

Sunghoon chuckled, his breath hot against your skin. “Patience, princess. I want to savour you.”

His finger travelled down your body, hooking under the waistband of your panties, and with one quick motion, he pulled them off, leaving you completely bare under him.

He reached for his belt, undoing it with ease. You watched, entranced, as he stripped off the rest of his clothes.

Sunghoon lined his tip with your hole, the head of his cock rubbing against your wet slit.

“Tell me what you want princess”

You bit your lip, your voice trembling, “I want you… I want you inside me, Sunghoon.”

A dark, satisfied smile crept onto his face. “Good girl” he praised again before slowly pushing into you, inch by agonising inch, until his dick was fully nestled inside of you.

Sunghoon gave you a moment to adjust before he started to move, his pace slow, each thrust driving deeper and deeper into you. You moaned, lost in the overwhelming sensation of him filling you up.

He grabbed both of your wrists with one hand and lifted them above your head. Now he was fully in control.

His thrusts grew faster, harder, as he pushed you towards the edge.

“Cum for me, princess,” he growled into your ear, and that was all it took for you to cum.

Sunghoon followed you after a few seconds, his hips stuttering as he spilled into you. His own release drawn out by the tightness of your wet walls. He collapsed on top of you, his breath ragged and the pink sheets twisted beneath you.

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jarofstyles · 6 months ago

Text

Leather & Lace

Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you

Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!

Wc- 8.2k

Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping

---------

“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning.

“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”

He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask.

But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different.

Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to.

Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked.

From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.

“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster.

“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”

He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention.

Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date.

No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more.

It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more.

They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things.

Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself.

Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home.

Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was.

Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open.

It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled.

Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed.

The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile.

—--

“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall.

“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze.

God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it. “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped.

“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.”

He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.”

The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?”

“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.” He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time.

“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”

“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”

“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.

—-----------

Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was.

Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.”

“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them.

“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”

As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.”

Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though.

“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.”

A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out.

“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.”

That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was.

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?”

“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.”

“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags.

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.”

—-----

Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one.

He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk.

“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing.

“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”

Ah, a shot to the heart.

Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over, “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.”

He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.

“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror.

“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair.

“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.”

Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this.

“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?”

She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.”

“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror.

“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.”

“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”

Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either.

After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.”

“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times.

“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions.

Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere.

She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants.

“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”

Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure.

“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-”

Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal.

“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.

“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit.

“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this.

While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied.

“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”

“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.”

God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.”

“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.”

Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.”

“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”

Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”

Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.”

And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.”

“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.

“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.”

Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own.

“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”

And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly.

“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?”

Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.”

Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.”

Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.”

Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.”

Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.”

Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.”

What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?”

“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again.

“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.”

“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him.

“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on.

She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.”

Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.”

“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”

“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head.

How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake.

“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.”

This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see.

“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?”

How could he ever tell her no?

Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop.

His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it.

He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face.

“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck.

The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him.

“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic.

“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.”

Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head.

“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.”

Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time.

“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”

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