#and let loose w whatever way I wanted to write

[wisteriagoesvroom]

genuinely i’m alsjsksksksksk because i think in theory is actually gonna be my magnum opus fic / thing i’m not sure i will top in future. and. i wrote it in a week u guys. literally 1 week. it was supposed to be a side quest 😭

[mariasont]

Imagine this for me, feel free to ignore this but it’s rotting in my brain 💀 some fluffy Fem!BAU reader x Aaron Hotchner pretty please 🙏🏻

Reader and another member of the team enter a suspected unsub’s house, working in biochemistry and bio weapons🧬🔬🧪, reader accidentally triggers some alarm/security system and gets sprayed w an unknown substance😱🤯

(anthrax for angst/hurt comfort, aphrodisiac for smut…..or for fluff like a laughing gas??)

n reader has to get checked out by medics n in the back of the ambulance or the hospital (in context of laughing gas) with extremely concerned Aaron, and miss girl cannot hold it together, cracking jokes, giggling at herself, Aaron and nothing in particular, BLATANTLY flirting with Aaron (who wouldn’t let’s be fr) n he’s tryna keep his professionalism so bad but cracks n says something she wasn’t supposed to hear, she replies with something along the lines of

“take me out on a date first, sir.”

The side effects lasting the entire flight back too so the whole team gets to witness reader all snuggled up to Aaron, complimenting him, pulling full on smiles out of him, making him blush- AAAAH pls I’m rattling the bars of my cage thinking about it

PLEASE 🫠🫠I’m hanging out for some tooth-rotting fluff, once again feel free to ignore,

Happy writing 💜💜

DANGEROUS - A.H

a/n: LOLOLOL i loved this request thank you so much i hope this is what you were wanting <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: reader being persistent asf, home girl isn't backing down for NOTHING

wc: 1.3k

"Where is she?"

Hotch's words sliced through the sterile air of the ER, stripped of kindness or patience, devoid of his usual restraint. His presence seemed to consume the hallway, his tie loose, his brow drawn, and his composure unraveled in ways only you could cause.

Morgan intercepted him before he got too far.

"Hotch—cool it. She's okay." Hotch's glare could've sent anyone else running, but Morgan held his ground. "I get it. You're worried. But barging in there all hot-headed? Not gonna help."

"She's under observation," Morgan continued before Hotch could push past him. "Doc says whatever she got hit with isn't dangerous--just... weird. A little chemical happy hour, let's say. She's harmless and giggly."

Hotch's brows furrowed together, pushing past Morgan and opening the door to find you sprawled in the hospital bed.

The sight of you sent his heart into a freefall. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair was a mess, and your eyelids drooped like you'd been awake for hours—but you were alive. He scanned you quickly, searching for injuries, bruises, something tangible to explain why it still felt like the world had tilted off its axis. When he came up empty, a small weight lifted from his shoulders, but the tightness in his chest wouldn't let go.

"Hotch." Your voice, soft and a little slurred, tugged him out of his own head. You blinked up lazily up at him, a sleepy, crooked smile spreading across your lips. "Hey, you."

He frowned, his steps eating the distance between you. "How do you feel? What did the doctors say?"

You giggled—giggled. "I feel fantabulous, boss man. Why're you always so serious? It's kind of cute, though. You're cute."

"Cute?" He blinked, startled, as if the word was foreign coming from you. His brow creased in confusion, though his eyes betrayed the faintest trace of relief. "You're in a hospital bed because of a biochemical exposure. Nothing about this is remotely cute."

"Okay, okay, Captain Grumpy Pants." You patted the bed beside you, and for a moment he just stared. "Sit down before you pop a blood vessel."

"What did that chemical do to you?"

Your laughter bubbled up--bright, unrestrained, and completely inappropriate given the circumstances. "I dunno! But it's great. Like... fun. You should try it. Loosen up, Aaron!"

The casual drop of his first name hit him like a slap in the face, and you caught the split second of surprise before he could smother it. Grinning wider, you leaned forward, eyes twinkling like you'd discovered his Achilles' heel.

"You worried about me, Aaron? That's sweet. And for the record, you wear stress well. Very rugged. Broody Hotchner."

Hotch's jaw tensed visibly, a muscle jumping beneath his skin as he tried--and failed--not to react. He was sure he liked the sound of his name rolling off your tongue entirely more than was appropriate. "You're not making any sense."

"And you don't smile enough," you countered easily. "You've got this whole tall, dark, and scowly thing going on, but when you smile? Oh, man. Broody Hotchner becomes downright irresistible."

He stared at you, mouth slightly open like he'd forgotten how to respond. The blush that crept up his neck and toward his ears betrayed him, though he looked anywhere but at you.

"Rugged and speechless?" Your grin spread wider. "Oh, this is definitely my new favorite hobby."

He said your name, low and clipped--a warning and a plea all wrapped into one.

You waved him off, giggling as you propped your chin in your hand, the faintest smirk tugging at your lips. "Oh, lighten up. Admit it—you like me. I'm the best part of your day."

Before he could even form a reply, the door creaked open, and Emily stepped in. "She's cleared to go. The jet's ready. You'll have to wrangle her out of here, though."

Hotch straightened immediately, thankful for the interruption. You, on the other hand, poured dramatically. "Aww, we were just getting to the good part."

"Let's go," Hotch muttered, ignoring Emily's obvious smirk as he grabbed your bag from the chair and stepped closer to the bed. When you didn't move, he gave you a look--a look you were all too familiar with. "Up."

"Look at you. So polite," you teased, sliding your hands into his as he helped you sit upright. 

Hotch didn't answer, just looped an arm under yours as he coaxed you to your feet. You swayed for a second--just enough to make him grab your other elbow. His movements were careful--surprisingly gentle for someone with such sharp edges. "Easy."

"You're just so reliable." You were leaning into his side more than you probably needed to. "See this is why I think you like me."

"You can think whatever you want as long as you keep walking."

Emily grinned as the two of you passed. "Smooth, Hotch. Real smooth."

--

The low rumble of the jet engines filled the cabin, but Hotch wasn't hearing any of it. All of his attention was on you--curled up on the seats, hands waving animatedly as you grinned at your captive audience, chatting nonstop like a queen addressing her subjects. Morgan and Reid were clearly enjoying the show.

"No, no, Spencer, you're not hearing me." You sat up with exaggerated effort, poking Reid's arm as if to emphasize your point. "If you combined your brain with Derek's charm, you'd be unstoppable. A super-agent. Like, Avengers level."

Reid's face flushed immediately, and Morgan barked out a laugh. "See, I told you, Pretty Boy—everyone's gotta have a little charm."

"I'm plenty charming," Spencer grumbled, though the small, amused smile gave away how he really felt.

Hotch leaned back in his seat, hands folded tightly in his lap, but his focus never left you. He was beyond exhausted, the weight of the last few hours settling heavy in his bones, but still, he refused to tear his eyes away. It wasn't rational, but the thought of looking away--even for a second--felt like it might undo having you here, safe and whole.

You noticed. Of course you did.

The pout that appeared on your face was immediate. "Hotch! You're all the way over there. That's too far."

He blinked, his heart stumbling for just a moment, your tone cracking through his carefully constructed walls. "I'm fine where I am."

"But I'm not," you whined, shifting toward the edge of your seat and looking far too pleased with yourself. "C'mon, boss man. Sit with me."

Morgan leaned into Reid with a grin. "She's relentless, man."

Hotch shot Morgan a quick glare before standing, crossing the cabin with deliberate strides. He lowered himself stiffly onto the seat next to you, his posture straight as a board. "Happy now?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, sliding closer and resting your head on his shoulder with hesitation.

He started to say your name, but you cut him off with a content sigh. "You're warm. Did anyone ever tell you you're like a human space heater? Very cozy, Hotchner."

Hotch swallowed. "You need to rest."

"I am resting. You're just really nice to lean on." You tilted your head up, peaking at him with half-lidded eyes. "You're handsome too. Did I mention that already? Like...impossibly handsome. It's a little unfair."

He froze. Completely and utterly froze. His hands hovered awkwardly over his knees, unsure of where to go as you snuggled closer, completely oblivious to the predicament you were putting him in. He could feel the team watching--Morgan's smirk, Emily's barely contained laughter, even Reid's curious glances--but none of them dare to say a word.

He said your name once again, this time softer, but you were already gone, eyes slipping shut, breath evening out as you dozed off against him.

Professional. He needed to be professional. He repeated the word in his head like a mantra, but with you pressed so contentedly against him, it felt like a losing battle.

And then he caught it--your perfume. Soft, faintly floral, and as familiar to him as the sound of your voice. It was the same scent he'd picked up in stolen moments: when you walked by his desk, leaving a hint of it behind, or leaned over his shoulder during a briefing. He'd grown used to it, let it blur into the background like everything else about you he shouldn't notice.

But now? Now it was inescapable, a subtle, dizzying distraction that tugged at what little composure he had left.

His chest tightened as an irrational thought hit him--what it would be like to have this forever. To breathe in your scent every morning instead of just in passing. To have you against him not as a fleeting accident but as a choice. He had no business entertaining these thoughts--thoughts of how easy it would be to have you like this all the time.

And that? That was dangerous.

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[pboogerswbb]

LET IT SNOW

Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige and reader spend a snowy day babysitting reader's niece and nephew (loosely based on a request i got weeks ago) Warnings: fluff, suggestiveish? very very very sweet, will make you sick (fluff is very hard for me to write ok be nice) Wordcount: 2.9K A/C: happy christmas eve everyone <3 this is my christmas present to y'all so enjoy this while i take some time to rest and spend time with my family :) unfortunately that means you gotta wait for chapter 2 of so it goes for a little longer but i want to take a break for a few days from writing over christmas! i hope you understand. everyone who celebrates christmas pls spend it eating, drinking (if you're of age), and don't kill your family pls (i know that's much to ask over the holidays let's be real). i'll return to writing so it goes post christmas! MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS <3

-

“There’s a list of allergies on the fridge, if Mia throws a fit just put her in the stroller and walk her around for a bit, if she won’t calm down call me. Whatever you see in the fridge you can eat, and call me whenever! I’ll have my ringer up and-”

“Chloe-”

“and really call me whenever you need to! And have your ringer up too!”

“Chloe!”

Your aunt’s husband is pulling on her arm, trying to get her further than the front door but 10 minutes have already been spent going through everything for the day.

“Auntie Chlo we’ve babysat before. They’re in good hands,” you reassure, smiling brightly at her. She inhales deeply and chuckles when she realises how long she’s been rambling for.

“You’re right, the kids love you. Especially you Paige, they’ve missed you. Been showing them clips of your games!” Your aunt says, head tilting upwards to look at the blonde girl standing behind you, hands wrapped around your waist. 

You and Paige had been dating for over a year now, celebrating your first of what would be many anniversaries. In that short amount of time the blonde had made her way into the depths of your closest circle, becoming a part of your family. It happened effortlessly, the way she fit into your life, the way she clicked with your relatives. You swore they loved her more than you at this point. This was about to be the first Christmas she ever spent with your family, and just the idea of her with all your loved ones made your chest fill with warmth.

So when your aunt Chloe called you in a crisis on Christmas Eve, her babysitter getting sick at the last minute, you and Paige were quick to agree to look after your nearly 2-year-old niece Mia and 7-year-old nephew Leo. 

“Go! We got this aight,” Paige reassures, resting her chin on the top of your head as she does.

Pulled away by her husband, your auntie waves goodbye and closes the door, leaving you and Paige alone with the kids standing behind you. Before you can even react, Mia’s lower lip begins to quiver, the sight of her mother gone upsetting the small child. 

“Uh oh,” you mumble, Paige swiftly making her way to the little girl and picking her up, pouting her own lower lip to mirror the child.

“Are you sad because you miss mama? She’ll be back later, I promise,” Paige coos to Mia, rocking her in her arms. She’s wearing a white t-shirt despite the snow outside, for some reason she was always warm, and her biceps were growing more prominent as she held the child by her hip. The sight of Paige comforting your niece made your heart flutter, making it hard to tear your eyes away. watching Mia bury her face into the crook of Paige’s neck.

“We’ve got a really fun day planned for you!” You gleam at both of the children, ruffling Leo’s hair. He laughs but pushes your hand off, running to the kitchen.

“Can I have a cookie?” The boy asks, clearly taking advantage of the moment that his parents’ watchful eyes weren’t around.

“No-” you start but Paige is already following him to the kitchen. She was such a pushover, always had been with the kids. Just some pouting, eyes batting and she was ready to bend every which way for them.

“Paige!” You complain as the blonde easily reaches to the top shelf, grabbing a jar of chocolate chip cookies.

“What?” She asks unbothered by your scolding, handing a cookie to Leo, and taking a bite of one herself. “Wanted a cookie,” she mumbles, her mouth full.

“Cookie! Gimme!” Mia babbles, short hands reaching for the cookie your girlfriend is holding between her teeth.

“Oh good God…” you groan, rubbing your forehead, already knowing this was going to be a long day if the kids had the blonde wrapped around their finger this much already. But when Mia giggles as Paige feeds her a part of the cookie, you decide not to care. If there was a time to spoil the kids it was on Christmas Eve.

“C’mere,” Paige nods you over, grabbing another cookie. You scurry into the kitchen, grabbing Mia from her and kissing the little girl’s forehead. She giggles brightly, clearly in a much better mood. You nuzzle your nose into her soft cheek, eliciting more laughs from the baby. The whole time Paige can’t look away even for a second, her heart fluttering with affection. Paige was completely in love with you, and seeing you like this only made her feel it more.

“What are we gonna dooo all day?” Leo interrupts the moment, yanking on Paige’s shirt. She grins and ruffles his hair affectionately. Leo and Paige had bonded quickly the first time they met, and now they’re best friends. In fact Leo facetimes Paige weekly on your aunt’s phone.

“We’ve got some ideas.” The blonde says smirking.

-

The weather is perfect, the gentle winter sun not warming but making everything brighter as the rays reflect off the snow. Snowflakes fall softly from the sky, adding to the already covered ground as you walk behind Leo and Paige, holding Mia in your arms, trying to catch your breath as you climb on top of a hill.

“Isn’t this high enough?” You ask, glancing down, worrying that Leo would be too scared to get on the sled. Predictably so, the two in front of you look over their shoulders, immediately uttering the word “no” in unison

“Auntie Paigey and your big brother have gone cray cray,” you murmur to the babbling Mia, wrapped in her warmest winter gear. 

“Okay, here’s good!” Paige says, finally putting the sled she was carrying down, looking around the group.

“You wanna go first Leo?”

Suddenly the boy looks down, hesitating. It’s pretty steep, especially at first. You could tell he felt unsure, but Paige noticed it too.

“I’m actually lowkey scared, can we ride down together?” She asks, covering for the boy. For a moment your eyes meet with hers, wanting nothing more but to kiss her right now. Paige always had you weak in the knees, but the way she skillfully handled kids only made you love her more.

“Okay we can go together I guess,” Leo complains, deep down relieved. They sit down on the sled, Paige behind the boy, ready to steer.

“Wait!” She yelps, turning to you, blinking fast. “Kiss for good luck.”

Apparently she’d been feeling the same about the kiss.

Humming, you place Mia down on the ground to play with the snow, leaning close to Paige. Her warm lips press into yours, in a loving, gentle peck that let you know she wanted to do so much more, if it wasn’t for the company.

“Yuck!” Leo whines, making both of you giggle.

“Hey, have some respect for your auntie,” Paige grins and pushes the sled forward. Suddenly they’re riding down at such speed you can barely watch. Someone was bound to get hurt.

Both of them scream as the speed accelerates, the sounds echoing in the air. To your surprise they both make it all the way down safe and sound, Paige stopping the sled and jumping off.

“That was so fast!” Leo chuckles hysterically, making your girlfriend laugh too. You could hear them laughing all the way up where you were standing. 

“Ball,” Mia babbles, pointing at a pile of snow. Giggling, you sit down on the ground next to her, beginning to roll one snowball after the other and handing them to the girl. 

“Look Mia!” You gasp to get her attention. Her wide eyes turn to you, long eyelashes fluttering as she watches. You throw a snowball into the air, Mia’s eyes following as it crashes to the ground. Immediately she claps, a wide smile on her face to reward your efforts.

“Babe it’s your turn,” Paige’s voice says as she’s climbing up, trying to catch her breath.

You scoff, continuing to play with the snow for Mia. “Not happening P,”

“Oh you’re scared huh?” The blonde teases, a smug smirk spreading across her face.

Leo gasps. “It’s not scary at all! I was scared at first too!”

You roll your eyes, not falling for their games. 

“I’m playing with my girl here, you boys leave us alone,” you say, poking your tongue out at your girlfriend. She scoffs loud, walking over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist, lifting you up and throwing you over her shoulder with ease.

Leo laughs loud, pointing at the two of you. “Paige is not a boy!”

“Let me down!” You yelp, kicking your legs and arms but it’s no use. She’s much too strong, carrying you towards the sled. Your squeals make Mia laugh loudly, a wide smile spread on her face.

“Look after your sis for a bit, aight?” Paige tells Leo, placing you down on the sled. You’re still giggling, shaking your head.

“I’m not gonna! It’s scary!” You laugh, the blonde sitting snug behind you on the sled, wrapping her legs around you.

“Don’t be such a wuss,” she teases, her arms wrapping over your waist. Leaning in, you feel her hot air tickling against your ear as she whispers. “I gotchu ma, don’t worry.”

With that, Paige pushes off the snowy ground, holding onto you tight. Quickly the speed picks up, fluttering in the pit of your stomach. The freezing cold air tingles against your skin and your eyes water from the cold as you laugh.

“Ahhh P-“ you scream, turning your gaze backwards and finding that, to your shock, the blonde behind you is pushing on the ground to make you go even faster. “STOP!”

Paige giggles into your ear, her arms wrapping around you tight to hold you close. Soon it’s over as you reach the base of the hill, the speed finally slowing down and flutters in your abdomen disappearing.

“Told you it wasn’t so scary,” the blonde grins, helping you up.

“Uh yes it was,” you laugh, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at the girl in front of you. Some of it gets onto her face, making Paige pause.

Her mouth turns into a tight smile and her blue eyes widen. Immediately you know you’re in trouble.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She says and you squeal, already beginning to run when she starts to throw the powdery snow all over you.

“No no no no please!” You can barely breathe, gasping for air and trying to run, the snowy ground making your steps heavy. Paige, being a D1 athlete, easily reaches you. 

“Oh so now you regret it!” She laughs, snow falling into your coat, down your neck, making you scream louder as the girl chasing you wraps her arms around your waist, spinning you in the air. 

“Stop! Paige!”

“Say please,” she orders, her tone lighthearted.

You roll your eyes, hating having to admit defeat, but knowing it must be done.

“Fine! Please, please stop Paige please,” you whine, batting your wide eyes at the girl. She looks at you, finally putting you down and kissing your forehead.

“Wanna hear you just like that later,” she whispers the dirty words into your ear, lips brushing against your skin, tingling. Before you can scoff or tell her off, Mia’s loud cry disrupts the moment.

Both you and Paige hurry up the hill, towards Leo who’s holding his sister, bouncing him gently to soothe the little girl.

“What happened?” You ask, swiftly scooping Mia from the boy and trying her cheeks to see if she was cold. Nope, perfectly toasty from all the layers.

“Nothing! She just started crying!”

But then, studying her face, you notice the redness of her eyes, her mittened hands trying to rub them desperately.

“Aw, she’s sleepy,” Paige says, like reading your mind, grabbing the sled. 

“We should probably head back, she needs to take a nap,” you murmur, trying to soothe the girl in your arms, ear-piercing screams and cries spilling from her mouth.

All four of you hurry to the car, but no attempts to calm Mia down help. She’s exhausted, plump bottom lip quivering as she keeps crying the whole drive home. You could feel yourself getting exhausted, the loud noise becoming overwhelming and stressful. Paige could see it too, the way you were sighing and taking deep breaths. So when you return to the house, she grabs your hand and kisses it before getting up from the car.

“I’ll take her to bed okay? You rest ma,” she murmurs. Relief spreads all over your chest and you smile affectionately.

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask.

“Nah, I’m lucky. Got the best girl in the entire world.

-

After an hour of the faint sounds of Paige’s lullabies (off-key but she would never admit that) and trying to reason with the 2-year-old like that might help, the cries eventually quiet down. Leo is resting too, playing in his room. You’ve been in the kitchen, making spaghetti for all of you. Checking the clock you realise it’s been about 30 minutes since you last heard any sound from Mia, yet Paige still hadn’t returned downstairs.

Quietly, you sneak your way up the stairs, ever so carefully opening the door into the bedroom to not wake up Mia. But what you find makes your heart flutter - in the dimmed out room, Paige and Mia are both asleep, your girlfriend holding the little girl close. The blonde’s mouth is slightly ajar, soft snores escaping through. For a moment you just watch, allowing the love you felt for them both to spread. You walk over, make sure they’re both covered up by the blanket before sneaking back out, leaving them in bed.

“Leo, come eat dinner soon, ok?” You whisper to him in the other room. His eyes lighting up, the little boy gets up holding a toy dinosaur and follows you downstairs.

“Can I watch The Grinch while I eat? Please please please!” He begs, giving you puppy eyes.

“Mmkay, just this once,” you bend to his will, setting it all up for him. You can’t help but watch Leo getting snuggled up on the couch, a blanket around him, eyes wide staring at the TV. Leaning against the arch into the living room, you feel your body tired from the day, muscles aching and mind exhausted. But your insides are fluttering with warmth, no other word for the specific feeling but pure joy. Walking back into the kitchen you begin to make your own plate of food.

You let your mind wonder, and maybe it’s risky. It’s much too soon to be thinking anything close to it. But since it’s Christmas, you let yourself. Your mind comes up with vivid images of you and Paige, in a house of your own, decorating the tree - Paige the only one tall enough to place the star on top. You can see you two baking cookies and watching Christmas movies, hot chocolate in bed. 

And maybe, just maybe eventually, two children of your own. There are flutters in your heart thinking about building snowmen with your little family, roasting marshmallows in the fireplace, dressing them up in tiny costumes and sending family postcards to your relatives and friends. It felt so far away, yet you could see it so vividly. 

As if she had heard your thoughts, suddenly warm hands land on your waist, Paige’s reflection appearing in the window in front of you. Humming, her front presses flush to your back, fitting against you just right.

“I fell asleep,” she murmurs, burying her nose into your hair and inhaling. It’s like heaven, after a long day, to feel her like this again.

“I noticed,” you reply, beginning to make a plate for the girl as well. She watches closely, following every movement from behind you until her lips find your neck, beginning to press soft, loving kisses along the nape of it. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you hum, turning your head to face the blonde behind you. Hand reaching for your jaw, she pulls you into a gentle kiss, lips sliding against yours slowly. “Can’t wait to see you be a mom,” Paige whispers against your mouth, chest heaving.

A deep blush sets on your cheeks hearing the words, taking them in. The blonde watches your reaction, clearly trying to read you.

“I’m sorry if that’s too much to say this early but I-”

“No,” you shake your head with a smile. “I can’t wait for that either.”

Relief washes over your girlfriend, as she pecks your lips once more. 

“We’re gonna be so good ma, best parents in the world.”

Beaming with joy, both you and Paige walk into the living room where Leo is sitting, eyes glued to the movie.

“Yo! Scooch!” Paige tells the boy, who shuffles to the corner of the couch. Both you and your girlfriend sit in the opposite corner, holding your bowls of spaghetti and getting settled. The blonde quickly wraps an arm around you, pulling you to lean against her side. You’re snuggled up, feeding bites of food to each other and stealing kisses whenever the boy isn't watching.

“I love you,” Paige whispers into your ear, blue eyes sparkling with adoration.

“I love you too Paige,” you whisper back, cheeks rosy and heart fluttering from the perfect snowy day.

-

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[bucketbueckers]

MESS ME UP

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 6.1k content warnings: language, abuse of italics, grammatically incorrect past tense flashback, smut robbery(?), pretty mature but nothing graphic synopsis: your friends invited you out to a frat party to celebrate the men’s team winning the NCAA tournament where you bump into paige bueckers, the girl who you're in love with and who you ghosted for a month after hooking up with her. a much-needed conversation at the party forces you to revisit difficult memories and give her the closure she’s been seeking. notes: idk what this is! based loosely off of 'friends' and 'mess me up' by chase atlantic. unfortunately the smut robbery line is for real, like it's smut in the way lacroix tastes like real fruit (which is to say it's not smut, but like concepts of smut... 😝 (i've never had lacroix idk if this is accurate)) side note i hate writing in past tense but doing a traditional flashback scene is corny as hell! idk if it matters but this is set april 2024 (w/ a february 2024 flashback); doesn't really affect anything, so... anyway, second post on tumblr, lmk if we're rocking w it 🙂‍↕️

For the record, you didn’t want to come to this party.

It’s hot, sweaty, loud, and all you can smell is the same brand of men’s cologne and weed. The air is both stale and somehow feels wet and all you can think about is getting back to your apartment so you can shower and go to bed. You had a mock trial bright and early the next morning and your law professor was a stickler for punctuality and presentability – showing up with wrinkled clothes and smelling like a frat party was a sure-fire way to fail, and you had too much riding on your grades to let that happen.

The frat (whose name you’ve already forgotten) was celebrating the NCAA tournament win for the UCONN men’s basketball team. They’d apparently gone back to back, which you guess is cool, but you swore off basketball a long time ago. If you had your way, you’d be at home, three steps into your skincare routine, but you let peer pressure get the best of you and allowed your friends to drag you out.

It’d be fun, they said. You never come out with us! You’re spending all this tuition money and you’re not even taking advantage of it. How can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?

You only remember that your friends are law students, too, in the most unfortunate of moments when they put their persuasiveness to the test. In the most unfortunate of moments, you’re also reminded of the fact that they’re college students, too, because they’re leaving you at the door and rushing off to find something to drink. You weren’t upset they dragged you out. Not necessarily. You were grown enough to say no. Perhaps you’d simply set your expectations too high when they begged you to come out and you thought they would spend at least a little bit of time with you before doing their own thing. But sure. It’s whatever.

So, here you are – standing alone in the corner of a frat party, watching as drunk college students grind against each other, laugh, and have a good time. A part of you feels like you’re missing out, but as you watch somebody throw up into a plant, you feel like you’re just fine where you are.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a man wearing a backwards cap suddenly shows up next to you. “Yo, you thirsty?” he yells over the music, thrusting a red solo cup into your empty hands. You don’t have the time to say anything to him before he’s grinning at you, eyes red and hooded. “Come dance with me. You’re too pretty to be standin’ here all alone.”

You hear her before you see her.

“She’s good, bro, trust,” Paige interrupts smoothly, throwing a casual arm around your shoulders. You feel too much like a damsel in distress, but sensing the gravity of the situation, you flash the guy a light smile and lean into Paige slightly. Her grip tightens. You try to not let it bother you.

He raises his hands, surrendering. “My bad. You got it.”

Paige hums, unconvinced, as he leaves. When he’s out of your sight, you wrench yourself out of her grip. “Thank you, but not necessary,” you tell her sharply, red solo cup still in your hand. If this was how your night was going to go, then you need to be a little tipsy to survive it. You barely have it halfway to your mouth before Paige is pulling it out of your grasp, pouring its contents into a potted plant and chucking the cup into a nearby trash can. “What the fu–”

“First of all,” she begins, arms crossing protectively, “never accept a drink at a party that you didn’t pour, didn’t see someone else pour, or a drink that’s already open; matter fact, don’t accept a drink unless you opened it or brought it in yourself.”

You roll your eyes slightly. “This is Storrs, Paige. Do the frats really get down like that here?”

Her gaze is unimpressed. “You’re the law student, ma, you tell me the numbers. Second of all, you’re welcome. That was Kylin. He doesn’t take no for an answer in the first place but he’s all kinds of fucked up right now. I’d say I did you a favor but I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

“Funny,” you deadpan. “Here? Now?”

“What are you doing here?” she asks you, ignoring your snippy words. “Thought this wasn’t your scene.”

You pause. “It’s not,” you confirm. “Jos and Chelsea wanted me to come out. Figured I should be a good friend once in a while.”

Paige raises a brow. “Jos and Chelsea are too busy playing strip poker with dudes from Kappa Phi to keep an eye on you, and you’re worried about having to be a good friend?”

“First of all,” you say in the know-it-all tone that Paige had used on you, “I don’t need them to keep an eye on me.” The blonde hums again, not entirely convinced, and the heat of her gaze makes you stumble over your words slightly. “Second of all, why do you even care?”

“We’re friends,” she states.

“We were once,” you correct, voice softening. It’s no secret that you and Paige had fucked up whatever you had going on. It’s never been clear whose fault your fallout was (it was yours), nor could the two of you ever agree on what destroyed you (you would argue that you shouldn’t hook up with your friends, especially not the ones you were in love with). It was a messy situation that you were sure the two of you couldn’t recover from (you didn’t want to be friends with someone you couldn’t have; Paige just wants you to give her the chance to prove you otherwise).

“Sure,” she agrees half-heartedly, knowing your spiel by heart now. “Kinda fucked up you think I need a reason to care.” You don’t dignify that with a proper response, feeling something strangely like guilt corroding your heart. “Come outside and get some air with me? Please? Just wanna talk, no funny shit, I promise.”

You sigh, feeling yourself fall back into all too familiar routines. You had a near inability to say no to Paige most times – it was the reason why you had to put a stop to your friendship. And here you are now, undoing all of the progress you’ve made since you’ve been apart (a small part of you knows better; you’re moving forward but you’re not really doing any better. You’re not progressing. You’re just stuck now, only this time, you have less than you did before). “Jos and Chelsea–”

“–made their choice,” she finishes for you. “And their choice was strip poker with a guy named Anthony,” she adds solemnly. You can’t help but quirk a smile at the absurdity of your life right now. “C’mon, please? It fucking reeks in here. They’ve got a porch swing outside and it’s all quiet and shit.”

“You’ve always had a way with words,” you tease.

“You comin’ or nah?” she asks, but you shove her forward (she lets you) and she leads you through the crowd to the door. They part like the Red Sea and you can’t help but admire the way she silently commands the room, feeling a flutter in your chest you try desperately to stomp out. It’s like a fire; all it takes is a small spark before it eventually grows out of proportion. You know better now.

The door shuts behind the two of you and you sit on the porch swing. You can still hear the music’s pounding bass, but it’s muted. You feel like you can hear your thoughts now. The tension in your shoulders eases as you take in the crisp night air, the crickets’ chirps, the occasional owl’s hoot. For a moment, you forget all of the complicated history between you and Paige; the way she held your hand as she kissed up your thigh, the way she stayed afterwards, cleaning you up and bringing you water. It almost seems as Paige is reliving all of it, too, as she looks at you, and that thought is sobering enough to bring you back to the moment.

You finally get a good look at what she’s wearing. It’s nothing outstanding; a gray Nike tech suit and a pair of dunks, although she’s opted to leave her jacket unzipped, revealing the crop top underneath. She’s dressed for comfort, though the most unfair part of it all is how good she looks when she’s not trying. Her cheekbones are sharp, eyes blue and wide and alert, and you can’t help but notice how fitting a slick-back bun is on her.

This was precisely why you needed your space. You couldn’t control your thoughts or feelings. It was manageable when you minded your business – the phrase out of sight, out of mind did wonders for you and you were usually busy enough that she only crossed your mind once or twice a week when the student population was buzzing about a recent game. But now? Now you’re fucked. You’re inches away from her and you’ve allowed her to pull you back into her orbit. She’s the Earth and you’re a meteor – any closer and you won’t be able to come back from the damage you would do to each other. She would survive, you’re sure, but you’d be destroyed in the process.

“So,” she says slowly. You avert your eyes, staring at anything but her. “How you been?”

“Good,” you lie. “Keeping busy.” That part was less of a lie, but it wasn’t her business to know.

Paige has always been good at reading you, so she gazes at you like she’s not convinced. “I think we’re overdue a conversation,” she says, surprising you. “A real one. No more of this running in circles bullshit.”

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly. You finally meet her eyes. They’re strikingly blue, disarming, and you feel an odd mixture of guilt and longing eat away at your insides. She looks like she’s drinking you in, like she’s trying to understand why you did what you did; her eyes soften in the dim glow of the porchlight and you can’t help but flush under her gaze. She always understands you in spite of how often you push her away – she seems to understand why you keep her at arm’s length, too, and it’s then that you fully understand how overwhelming it is to be known.

“Why did you leave?” she asks finally. You have to swallow back the bile in your throat. “The morning after.” Her clarification does nothing to soothe the turmoil in your stomach. “I thought…” Paige’s throat bobs as she tries to find the words. “It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me. So why did you leave like that shit ain’t matter to you?”

That night in February comes back to you in the blur of a memory. You’ve thought about it so often that you could write a play-by-play of it; every single unremarkable detail comes back to you in a flourish of vibrant color – the way the floor felt beneath your feet as Paige guided you into her room, the slight scratch of her nail against the base of your neck as her hands found purchase in your hair. Paige was wrong. It meant something to you, too much to you. You often remind yourself, if it meant that much, why was it easier to run away? Jumping off of a diving board into a pool conceptually means the same thing as jumping off of a cliffside into beach waves; the jump isn’t the hard part, it’s the reminder of the distance between your feet and the surface. Your feelings for Paige are too consuming. It’s easier to not make the jump at all than it is to worry if you’ll be able to come up for air.

She was in high spirits, drunk off of their win against Villanova. They weren’t an opponent you’d typically call home for, but the Huskies were having a tough season with several injured players and a lot of underclassmen. It was close, 67-46; Paige had contributed to a little less than half of their points overall with a solid 31. She was happy, the rest of her team was happy, and she’d begged you to come over to her apartment for the post-game festivities – which was usually games and snacks as they weren’t big on drinking during the season. You’d nearly refused at first. It was supposed to be a small team get-together and you had some work to catch up on. You eventually gave in, like you always do. Paige had flashed her typical, charming smile, looping an arm around your waist, and you were a goner.

The team accepted you like you were one of their own, too. That was new. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you did with Jos and Chelsea, but it felt like you knew them better than you knew Jos and Chelsea, anyway. Ice and KK were two menacing peas in a pod – they were like sisters separated at birth and whenever they were together, something chaotic was bound to happen, but they loved and protected fiercely despite the way they teased each other and the team. Caroline was like the team mother and many of the girls called her such. Nika was intense on the court, but off of it, she was Paige’s twin through and through – they always had something to say to each other and their banter often brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Azzi was sweet and well-loved by the team (and the student population in general). She introduced you to her and Paige’s son Ines, which confused you at first, but Paige threw her arm over your shoulder and assured you that they’re only co-parenting because Carol has enough children and they didn’t want Ines to be a ward of the court. You couldn’t help but smile at that, leaning into Paige – something about the team’s dynamic healed you a little, and Ines joked that Paige went out and got her a stepmom.

You felt the blush creep up your neck as Paige tightened her grip around you slightly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, son,” Paige had said somberly, pretending to look sad as Azzi rolled her eyes. “Your mother was havin’ an affair–”

“Oh, bullshit!” Azzi cried. The entire room broke out into fits of giggles.

“Now I understand why Paige wifed up a lawyer,” KK said in between laughter. “Tryna get a discount on that divorce, huh?”

The team had tears in their eyes from their excitement – you didn’t have the heart to tell them you were hoping to specialize in civil litigation, so you just laughed along. The conversation continued to flow as games were played. Nika was exceptionally bad at UNO and Paige never let her hear the end of it. You guys only managed to play a couple of rounds before Nika suddenly got good and played a +4, prompting Ice and KK to stack +4s of their own onto it – Paige stared in disbelief for a solid thirty seconds before picking up 12 cards and rage-quitting one turn later when KK skipped her.

“There, there,” you’d said, lips trembling as you tried not to laugh at the look on Paige’s face. You rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and she pushed you off her gently, her own lips quirking in amusement. “Show this card game who’s boss.”

“Bro,” she grumbled, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she leaned back into the couch, her arm finding home over the back of your shoulders once more. You remember wondering if this is what normal felt like, what finally finding a community was like – you fit in too well with Paige’s teammates and they made you feel at home. Being near Paige made you feel at home. She was talented that way. She had an uncanny ability to make people feel at ease, regaling them with jokes and an endless supply of charm. When you realized you were in love with Paige Bueckers, you weren’t surprised about it. If anything, you might have been a little upset with yourself – you were sure you weren’t the only person she’d drawn in unintentionally, ensnared in a web whose latticework was meticulously shaped like basketball netting.

As the night went on, more and more laughs were shared until the clock reached midnight and many of Paige’s teammates got up to leave. Everyone shared hugs and affectionate goodnights. All of them even looped around to hug you – which was… nice. Paige shared her apartment with Azzi and Aubrey, so they retired to their own rooms after curious glances to you and Paige, still curled up together on the couch.

The apartment was quiet. You could hear the ring of silence as it enveloped the two of you, Paige’s gentle breathing, and the tick of the clock. It was oddly comforting; normally, it would have lulled you into a drowsy state, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of Paige’s body next to yours, the brush of her thumb against your shoulder. Feeling both unmoored and tethered, you shift next to Paige, gathering her attention. “I should go,” you’d whispered. Her thumb halted.

“Stay,” she requested. She tilted her head. Her gaze met yours. You expected her eyes to be half-closed, dim with sleep. The rasp of her voice was attributed to a tone you knew she’d adopt when she was exhausted, but her eyes were wide, alert, dilated, a blue so dark you were sure you almost mistook the sheer want for something else. “Stay,” she murmured again. “Please.”

“Yeah,” you agreed almost breathlessly, feeling her hand squeeze your shoulder gently. “Sure.” She untangles from you and stands from the couch, offering you her hand, and you take it. She led you seamlessly through the dark of her apartment into her bedroom, where she released you long enough to rifle through her drawers, having found you a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt for you to wear to bed. Paige pointed you towards the bathroom. You changed into her clothes. Your fingers had shook with anticipation at the sheer domesticity of it all as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your – her – t-shirt read HOPKINS GIRLS BASKETBALL. It had all felt so different now. You hadn’t been sure at the moment if it terrified you or excited you.

You exited the bathroom to find Paige’s back to you, adjusting the band of a pair of basketball shorts around her hips. Her hair was out of her bun and it cascaded down her back in loose, wavy strands; you’d felt an inexplicable urge to run your fingers through it, to find out if her hair was as soft as it looked. She was wearing a dark black sports bra. The two of you were friends. Granted, you were in love with her, but the sight of her wearing nothing but ball shorts and her Nike bra shouldn’t have done the things it did to you.

“Which side is yours?” you’d asked, mostly to break the silence. You ignored the crack in your voice. Paige paid it no mind as she turned, which forced you to avert your eyes, trying not to glance at her abdominals.

“Don’t matter,” she responded. You watched the way she moved, sitting low on the bed, legs long and stark against the purple of her comfort. “You gettin’ in or what?” You hoped she couldn’t see the flush on your neck. You slid into bed next to her, hoping to maintain some sort of distance, but she refused to let you get too far. She slung her arm over your waist, fingers brushing against your skin where your shirt rode up. Her breath was even against your neck and the heat of her body nearly turned your brain into mush. “This okay?” she asked, tone softer.

“Mhm,” you hummed, afraid to speak or you might fuck up and tell her just how okay it actually was. Paige was just a touchy person, you tried to remind yourself as you felt the tickle of her hair against the nape of your neck. This doesn’t mean anything to her. It was all for naught. It did little to quell the way your heart raced, the way the heat pooled low in your belly.

“You looked good tonight,” she said casually. You tried to stop the goosebumps as they rose on your flesh. “You always do.”

Unable to think of something smart to say, you shifted your body slightly, your fingers splaying over the arm she held tight around your midsection. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers brushed a little lower on your stomach, grazing the waistband of your shorts.

She hummed an affirmative, pulling you tighter against herself, and you could barely breathe. It was overwhelming in the best way – she was all around you. Physically, you felt as though you were in her skin as she greedily pulled you in. The scent of her was everywhere; the shampoo that seeped into her pillows, the cologne on her neck. Your hair stood on end as her lips brushed almost imperceptibly against the shell of your ear. “‘M glad you came tonight,” she whispered.

You flipped on your side, face-to-face with Paige. Her arm moved enough for you to get situated and once you were, her hand found the small of your back, her palm warm against your skin. You can’t help the way your breath hitched, even as Paige’s eyes seemed to take in the stuttering rise and fall of your chest. Having found some courage, you poked her cheek, drawing her eyes back up to yours. “What are we doing?” you asked finally, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Her brow raised slightly, the dark blue of her gaze illuminated by the streaks of moonlight through her window. “No funny shit, Paige. You touch me like you want me, claim me in front of your friends.” You searched her eyes as she fell silent. “What are we doing?” you repeated, voice firmer.

“I want you,” she confessed after a few heartbeats of contemplation. She leaned in closer to you, your noses nearly brushing, and she continued, “I want you so fucking bad. Don’t wanna do anything you’ont want, but–”

Your lips were on hers before she had the chance to finish. She responded eagerly, one hand firm around your waist as she flipped the both of you over, pulling you to straddle her waist. You leaned down, your chest against hers, hands on each side of her neck. You felt the thundering of her pulse under your fingers. It was stabilizing in a sense – words were one thing, but to feel how badly you’d been able to affect her, too, did wonders for your growing ego. Paige’s hands had found your hips, keeping you pressed against her body.

You parted briefly to catch your breath. Paige’s chest heaved, her lips shiny and swollen. She was hard to look away from. For a moment, you’d wondered if this was worth it. Your heart had raced, beating uncontrollably; it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Everything would change between the two of you. Was one night with Paige worth the risk of losing your friendship? You feel too strongly, too much, overwhelmingly. You’ve been told by an ex or two that you were simply too much. You wouldn’t want to subject Paige to that.

Her right hand met your face, tracing the line of your bottom lip. “You want this?” she asked. Her eyes were blown wide, more pupil than iris, but something about it entranced you. The desire in her eyes had brought fresh heat to your stomach, but coupled with the fact she’d be willing to stop made your heart beat a little faster. She was enough to quell your worries, settling the irregularity of your thoughts. You nodded, leaning down to connect your lips again, but her hand was insistent against your jaw as she held you back. “Words,” she commanded.

You’d barely resisted an eyeroll. “Yes, Paige,” you affirmed. Her hand loosened, eyes searching yours. “Want you.”

Her smile turned smug. “Yeah? How bad?”

The tease sent white-hot desire straight through your body as your hips rolled against hers, trying to find some relief. Her hands fall back down to your waist, helping you rut against her thigh as a shared flush creeped up both of your necks. “You gonna touch me?” you breathed against her lips. Her breath came out a disjointed stutter when you guided her hand to the swell of your ass. It was unnatural – Paige was so sure, so confident. To have her nearly at your mercy was like a drug through your veins, but you didn’t want her there. You wanted Paige fully in control; you wanted her to take care of you, to give you everything you’d fantasized about for months on end. You wanted her so bad it rewired the coding in your brain. There was something about her that broke down all of the walls you spent years building.

Your actions and words had been the only permission she needed. One of her hands gripped the flesh of your ass as the other one cupped the back of your neck. Her nail scratched you inadvertently as she dragged you back down to connect your lips – the slight echo of pain caused you to whine against her lips, a sound she swallowed greedily before she flipped the two of you over once more. Your head fell back against her pillows as she rucked up your shirt, finding that you’d opted to not wear a bra. She groaned indulgently, one large hand coming up to squeeze one of your breasts and her mouth finding the other one.

You ran your fingers through her hair, gripping it tight as she lavished you with attention. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she murmured against you, voice dripping with want. She pressed her knee against your core as she found her way back to your lips, kissing you deeply and drawing another whimper from your parted lips. It sent a jolt through your body. “You gon’ let me do what I want, huh? Get you right?”

“Paige, please,” you begged, all of the shame having left your body as you ground down against her knee, feeling the pleasure and relief simultaneously. “Fuck, do what you want, I don’t care – just please fucking touch me.”

She shushed you, lips back on yours, tongue brushing against your lips like she was trying to take whatever you’d give her. And at that point, you would have given her anything if it meant she’d stop teasing you. “I got you, ma, jus’ relax,” she whispered against your lips. She trailed a blazing path down your chest, leaving hickies as she went. Paige reached the waistband of your shorts; she pressed a sloppy kiss to your navel before bunching her fingers in and pulling them off, throwing them haphazardly into the room.

The air was cold against you. You were breathing heavily by then, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Her hand untwisted yours from the bedsheets, linking your fingers together, and that touch alone was enough to bring you back down to earth. “I got you,” she promised again, reminding you, pressing diligent kisses against the inside of your thigh. You relaxed ever so slightly against her, feeling as though you could breathe a little easier, but your body was still incredibly high strung. Paige squeezed your hand. Then her mouth was on you, and you were done for.

She held your hand as she went down on you, talking you through it until your orgasm reached its peak and you sunk into the bed bonelessly. She didn’t release you when she came back up, her smile a mix of smugness, pride, and quiet adoration. Paige kissed your knuckles, your cheeks, your lips, drawing a contented sigh out of you. “You good?” she asked, brushing your hair out of your eyes, hand cradling your jaw.

Exhausted, all you could do was hum an affirmative. Paige flashed a small smile again, pressing a kiss to your forehead and crawling off the bed, much to your surprise. “Lemme get you some water,” she said. “‘M coming right back, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly, closing your eyes and sinking back into the pillows as your breathing evens out. She left her room, the door shutting with a silent click. In the silence of Paige’s bedroom, curled up in her purple comforter, all you can think about is how the future of your friendship has inexplicably changed forever. She said she wanted you. Did she just mean sexually? Paige was always intentional in her communication, a byproduct of her media training. Tears brimmed your eyes when you considered the idea that you might have just been another Wednesday night fling for her. Here you are again, feeling stupid about the overwhelming feelings you harbored for Paige despite your better judgment. The worst part was that it wasn’t her fault. You got your hopes up.

You wiped your eyes when you heard the door open again. Paige crossed the room, cracking open a cold bottle of water for you and pressing it to your lips. You nearly forgot about your inner turmoil when she smiled at you again, having thrown her hair back up into its bun. “Gonna clean you up, okay?” she informed you. At your nod, she runs a warm washcloth between your thighs, getting rid of the lingering stickiness. She carefully redressed you, squeezing your hips gently, and you’re left feeling so incredibly conflicted that you’re breathless with the anxiety. Paige disposed of the washcloth and curled up next to you in bed once more, an arm wrapping around your midsection. You’d told each other goodnight, but as her breath evens out against your neck, your mind races.

You slept fitfully through the night. And when morning light rolled around, you extracted yourself from Paige’s grip, sliding a pillow into her arms. The nervousness and all of your overthinking thoughts made you queasy with grief. You were in love with Paige Bueckers. That much was true. You were too head over heels for her to return to normalcy; you couldn’t. At that point, it would be easier for you to not be friends with her at all than to pretend like she wasn’t everything you’d ever wanted.

As she slept, you casted one last guilty look over your shoulder and you ran.

But that night in February has long since passed, and on the porch swing on a much warmer night in April, Paige stares at you in desperation, seeking answers to the questions you’ve withheld for over a month. “Why did you leave?” she asks you again. “Fuck, tell me the truth, lie to me, whatever, just please give me something to work with.”

“It was overwhelming,” you finally admit, twisting the rings on your fingers. You feel terrible as you glance at Paige, whose eyes soften when she takes in your expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shoulda seen that something was wrong.”

You close your eyes, lips trembling. You’re touched at how she instantly takes responsibility for your fuck ups, thinking she’s done something wrong. “No, Paige,” you correct her. “Fuck. It wasn’t you. It was never you.” You pick at a loose string on your shorts. She stares at you, waiting for you to continue. “You were so gentle. That night meant everything to me, and that was the problem. I wanted you so bad – Jesus Christ, I was in love with you for months. I don’t do casual. I always feel too strongly and I loved you so much that it was fucking overwhelming. I woke up and nearly lost it because I couldn’t handle the idea of having you like that and having to pretend like I didn’t want you like that forever. It was so much easier to run and not face the possibility of having to be your friend when all I’ve wanted was more.”

When you finally look back to Paige, her eyes are wide with something that looks strangely like grief, like you’ve pulled the rug from under her feet and watched as she fell. As you think about it, that’s probably what you’ve done, anyway. She spent so long thinking that your fallout was her fault, that it was something she’d done, but the ugly truth of the matter was that you were too scared of the way you felt for her that you ran from it instead. Paige runs a frustrated hand over her jaw, her expression nearly unreadable. You frown. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, knowing that your apology is long overdue. You fucked up so incredibly bad with her. Your brain remembers her prior words, the ‘It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me,’ and you suddenly feel like an idiot. God, it was mutual this entire time and you were too caught up in yourself to realize it.

“You think too fucking much,” Paige says finally, and you hardly have the time to react before she’s kissing you, her hands gripping your hips. You nearly gasp against her lips before you fully register what’s happening. Sinking into it, you wrap your arms around her neck, feeling suddenly like everything is finally aligning, that all of your blurred focal points sharpen. When she pulls away, her eyes are alight with understanding. “So, lemme get this straight. You pushed me away ‘cause you’re in love with me, then we fucked, and you thought I wouldn’t wife you up?”

You frown, feeling stupid all over again. “Well, when you put it like that…yeah?”

Paige sighs. “Fuck. Look at my lawyer – you’d send dudes to jail left and fucking right ‘cause you jump to conclusions too early. Thank God you’re not going into criminal defense.”

You shove her away from you, feeling the embarrassment bloom on your cheeks. You can’t help but laugh as you say, “You’re an asshole.”

She guffaws, reaching for your hands, intertwining your fingers. “Says you! You ghosted me for a month and let me think I fucked us up. Jesus Christ.” She twists the ring on your finger mindlessly as she searches for the right words. “Okay, lemme be really fucking clear. I’m in love with you, too. Like, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. There is nobody but you. You aren’t too much for me – I love you for you, no ifs, ands, buts, whys, hows, nothing. I know you thought you were protecting us by pushin’ me away, but you gotta let me make that choice, too. I want this with you, alright? Will you gimme that chance?”

Her words leave the two of you in silence. You can still hear the chirp of the crickets, the thrumming from the party indoors. You can feel the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles, the way her eyes bore into yours, patiently waiting for your decision. But distinctly, you can see the plea, the desperation for you to just give into what she knows the both of you are feeling. Your anxiety and constant overthinking never ruined the two of you. It may have set you back, but you and Paige found your way back to each other. Maybe you’re not a meteor, dangerously crashing into her and disintegrating on impact. Maybe the two of you are something simpler – the moon and the tide. She was never going to let you get hurt if only you’d give her the opportunity to show you that.

So, you take that leap – whether it’s off the diving board into the pool or the cliffside into beach waves, you don’t care. You know now that Paige is waiting for you at the surface. “I want this, too,” you affirm, watching the smile bloom on her face like springtime flowers, and you seal the deal by pressing your lips to hers. She responds eagerly, her arms tight around you. You loathe that it took the two of you this long, that it was your fault for not trusting Paige with your heart when she’s given you no real reason to doubt her; despite this, her lips taste like forgiveness and yours like atonement. In spite of everything, you made it here in the end, and it was worth it.

[mother-na]

Yandere Dr. Ratio X Reader [MDNI]

A Oneshot detailing the “punishment” served to you by Ratio after you’d ignored his rules and left to gain evidence for an essay he’d only given to you to distract you.

Warnings/Tags: Yandere behavior/rules, intercourse, spanking, creampie.

Comic Version: Linked at the bottom. Stelle is used as a placeholder for Reader.

You walked down a white hall, its tapestries mimicking the windows that adorn the spacecraft that Dr.Ratio calls his base. You were… both excited and anxious.

”If you’re truly so determined to find something to do, write me an essay. Procure your evidence through factual means within my library. The topic can be whatever you wish, I only ask you make this infernal conversation worth my valuable time.” Dr. Ratio had said in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had been particularly busy so your badgering didn’t come all that welcome. Still though!

You’d successfully weared him down! After weeks of begging him to let you do something that wasn’t sitting around in his base, he had assigned a task to you.

What you really wanted was an exploration task. Ratio, for some reason, had asked you not to leave the aircraft. It’s not like he enforced it but the bone-chilling disappointed stare he’d give you for it typically swayed you.

But you had broken that rule for the sake of your assignment, running off to find different oddities and record them in your essay. The hope was that Ratio would see your genius and bravery and let you loose a little. Of course, you planned to slightly omit your departure.

You had cited it as a previous experience. Ratio wouldn’t know what you’d done until afterward, when you tell him.

You stopped in front of his door, one of his many offices, trying not to crush the paper in your hands between your fingers. Was this a good idea..? It’s not like Ratio gave you a deadline, maybe you should just rewrite it..?

You shook your head, absolutely not! You’d worked so hard for this, you can’t turn back now!

You knocked generously on Ratio’s door. Not even a second later did Ratio call out to the door, “Enter.”

You walked in as Ratio lifted his head from his papers, nearly assuming a polite posture before seeing it was merely you, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed you briefly.

”Greetings (Y/N), I was worried you ran off. Neither I nor anyone else residing in this spacecraft has seen you for several days. Was there something you were searching for?” Ratio addressed you, glaring into your eyes with an indiscernible look. Even from the door to the desk, it felt like his gaze was mere inches from you.

Despite his suspicion being clear, him asking if you were searching for something was a genuine inquiry. Had you needed or desired something, he’d have provided it in an instant.

You hugged your paper close to your chest, Ratio’s eyes looking down at it as it crinkled in your arms.

”I was- um… writing the essay you asked for!” You said, doing a short sprint to his desk and extending the now slightly wrinkled paper to him in what you thought was confidence.

Before Ratio had even placed the paper on his desk, he’d clicked a red pen open with one hand. You felt your confidence plummet.

”W-Well um, I’ll be on my way.” You turned and began to scramble your way out the door before you heard him speak.

”Stop.” Ratio’d ordered simply, making you pause in your departure.

You turned to see his eyes flickering over the page rapidly, his brows furrowed. That cursed red pen glided on just about every inch of the paper.

Finally, he closed his eyes and placed the paper down. Leisurely, he rose from his seat. He looked like he was fighting the devil themself for patience!

Ratio let out a breath, preparing to speak.

”Let’s go over your mistakes, yes?” Ratio proposed, “Come, why don’t you read it?” he took a step to the side, letting you nervously slink beside him and his desk.

”Put your hands on the desk.” Ratio ordered. You turned to look at him like a kicked puppy. He wasn’t really gonna do what that implies right?

But Ratio only looked down at you, waiting for you to do it. He must know what you were thinking, but he gave no implication that what you were thinking was wrong. Rather, he looked quite knowing!

With a new bright blush of embarrassment, you placed your hands on either side of the paper onto the firm wooden work surface.

Ratio started pointing with his pen at some of your minor mistakes. It started out calmly with his body close to your own form, his heat transferring to you. His voice was just behind you as he elaborated on even the smallest of mistakes.

As he spoke, Ratio would make the smallest of movements. A gentle press against your body and behind. An “incidental” brush of his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver. A wave of air hitting your behind as he seemed to toy with the hem of your skirt.

You felt warm and found you could not focus on what he was saying. In response, Ratio chose to give you a small shock, brushing his fingers against the hem of your underpants.

You gasped a bit, finding your mind a little numb. You wanted Ratio’s approval, and subsequently his attention. Despite this, you hadn’t thought he’d be okay doing this to you. You don’t find yourself wanting to complain, but you’d really like to know where this is coming from.

”Pay attention. Have you spotted it yet? The betraying blunder in this error-riddled report you’ve presented me?” Ratio growled behind you while stroking your clothed pussy slowly.

You can’t tell if he’s trying to motivate you to listen, but if that’s the case it’s not working.

Ratio leans over you before placing his pen down, using the now free hand to blanket your own and stroke your fingers.

”If you recall, ‘Procure your evidence through factual means within my library.’” Ratio reiterated his previous orders impeccably. One would’ve thought that he wouldn’t have remembered the exact words, and yet.

You swallow a small whine as Ratio allows the hand caressing your soft flesh to brush your skirt up and over to your waist, and thus revealing your soft ass to the cold air.

Ratio pressed his fingers and essentially massaged the flesh of your ass before speaking, “Despite my orders, your cited evidence comes from ‘personal experience.’”

“How odd.” Ratio continued, his voice firm and thick with disappointment.

For a confusing moment, Ratio lifted his warm hand off your flesh. Only for a moment though, as before you could even question his motives he’d replanted his hand harshly against the skin.

You gasped (moaned?) in shock as your poor butt stung from the harsh treatment. Still, Ratio’s hand didn’t stop moving.

”I wasn’t informed of this ‘experience’ of yours.” he’d taunted as his hand passed over the red mark forming on your ass cheek and down back to your underwear. You resisted the urge to squirm as Ratio looped a finger inside your underwear.

“It’s almost like you tried to hide it from me.” Ratio suddenly tugged on your underwear and forcing the cloth against your sensitive pussy. You tried to lift yourself onto your toes to alleviate the strange sensation, but Ratio’d only tug harder.

Ratio didn’t stop drilling his words into you, “Are my resources not enough? Am I not enough?”

Ratio’s voice, while predominantly angered, also sounded somewhat hurt by your apparent betrayal. It made you feel a little guilty.

As Ratio glared down at you he began to lose his confident shell, lifting the side of your underwear to view your sensitive pussy.

”If you’re so desperate,” Ratio spoke as though he’d made his choice as you began to hear him messing with presumably his clothes. “For experiences…”

Ratio’s breath grew uneven as you were left wondering what he was thinking. Your mind is so muddled that you oddly didn’t guess what he was going to do.

It was only when you felt something warm and blunt press against your exposed entrance that you’d realized too late.

“Then I simply must oblige.” Ratio partially scowled before cruelly thrusting his entire length within your vulnerable twitching pussy. Aside from the initial intrusion, it wasn’t uncomfortable. You couldn’t place why until Ratio began to taunt you.

”You’re absolutely soaked.” Ratio’d pointed out. His voice was low and sounded annoyed. He seemed to be struggling to choke down his own groans.

Ratio moved his hands, one put firmly on the back of your neck and the other lifted one of your legs onto his desk. His hands weren’t harsh, but their grip was unyielding.

”Were you this eager to be punished?” Ratio sneered at you. His cock massaged your inner walls in a slow rhythm, drawing lewd fluid from your twitching hole.

Ratio leaned over you steadily, blanketing your body with his own and forcing your front against the cold desk. With one arm now wrapped beneath your neck and head, his heartbeat felt through his muscular arm, he spoke again.

“Do you enjoy the sensation of my cock stuffing you to the brim?” Ratio growled from just behind you, as he placed his head right beside your own. You not only heard his voice within your sensitive core, but also through his chest as he pushed against you.

His hands snaked over your body, over your shoulders and neck, before finding themselves on your wrists.

”Is this,” Ratio hoisted you off the desk with his cock still inside you, “Personal enough for you? Still feel you need more?”

Ratio picked up the pace, the slapping of his hips meeting your red ass loud. He kept you gripped firmly, not allowing you to budge and trapping you between the desk and his pounding hips.

You could hardly think! Your whole core was throbbing with need and was being slammed relentlessly with Ratio’s cock head kissing your virgin cervix. You couldn’t even form words!

”Are you receiving enough experience? Speak up. I can’t hear you.” you were taunted by Ratio as you could only moan and whimper from his sturdy phallus.

Ratio too was falling apart slowly. His voice was firm from years of remaining adamant with acquaintances and students, but his breath was wavering and he took erratic sharp breaths.

Ratio was reaching his limit and so were you. He thrusted recklessly and held you by your arms, his huffings being drowned out by your own moans of pleasure.

”Take it… take it all. Every last drop.” Ratio growled behind you, his grip now uncomfortable but entirely masked by the pleasure between your legs.

Ratio didn’t pull out. He, as he said, sprayed his thick cum directly into your defenseless womb. It was warm and with his final thrust, it ripped a quaking orgasm from your panting form. You could feel your walls squeeze Ratio, and from his small groans, he could feel it too.

Only when your womb was properly pumped full of Ratio’s essence did he pull his dripping cock out.

You collapse onto the desk as Ratio releases you, pulling up his pants as he turns to leave.

”Don’t let me ever catch you putting yourself in danger again.” Ratio firmly warned you as he left you twitching on his desk and leaking cum out of your now-stretched hole.

As Ratio left you exhausted and sexually satisfied, he kept thinking about you. You shouldn’t have left. Everything he does is to protect your reckless self from the harsh world.

Perhaps, if you’re pregnant, you would not be able to act as foolishly.

Comic Version: https://x.com/na_nsfw_/status/1819871482056450051?s=61

[soobnara]

like clockwork / c.sb

soobin x reader

summary: in a world where love is given an expiration date, you find your forever home in an unexpected place.

word count: 10.1k

tags: soulmate!au, best friends to lovers, mostly romance + fluff, fake dating if you squint, reader is afab w/ gender neutral pronouns + fem terms (noona) used

author's note: finally got around to finishing this... it's been a long while coming and i couldn't get myself to write for various reasons and i'm so happy it's all done and out there! (also for any black mirror fans out there, yes this is loosely based on the 'hang the dj' episode but way more lighthearted and with a dash of soulmate brainrot) hope you enjoy and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season <3

For as long as Soobin can remember, he’s been counting down the days. 

To summer vacation, to the end of his shift at his part time job, to the start of a long awaited trip, to anything. But there’s something else that counts down on his behalf, something that he doesn’t particularly want to count.

That something is inlaid in a nondescript watch wrapped around his wrist. Everyone gets one once they turn 18, and as far as he’s concerned, its only purpose is to ruin relationships. The cruel hands of time assign a “best by” date to each romantic encounter, flashing on the screen from the first meeting, with each failure promising to lead the user closer and closer to their fated lover. If you ask Soobin, it’s all bullshit. How would a stupid watch know anything about fate, anyways?

It’s a typical Thursday night, and Soobin’s mindlessly scrolling through Time to Love, the government mandated dating app that all phones come with, as per usual when he can’t decide on something to watch. He has yet to meet the weekly two date quota, having only gone on one on Tuesday (important to note that he’s already forgotten his name), and he’s running out of time, and he really can’t afford to pay that 100,000 won fine this week. Well, he can’t afford to pay it at any point in time, but this week’s been especially rough on him, and he doesn’t want to shell out any more of his meager savings just because he couldn’t get a date, of all things. 

The names and faces on his phone screen are a blur as his thumb swipes left aimlessly– he doesn’t really give that much of a shit who he ends up with, because at the end of the day, he’ll say “No” when the app asks him if he’d liked them and give them a terrible review saying they were incompatible, because frankly, the algorithm seems to always be wrong when it comes to his matches. Either that, or it’s because he cares so little that he doesn’t bother properly vetting his matches.

He’s resigned himself to his fate anyways; he’ll fill up his progress bar with a bunch of shitty matches until the algorithm decides it’s time for him to settle down, then when he finds his “soulmate” (if you could even call it that), he’ll just be doomed to a loveless arranged marriage set in place by a computer and die unhappy. He can’t envision happiness ever coming out of something so lifeless, so cold, so that’s just how it has to be. At least it gives him something to do instead of rewatching the same three anime series over and over again.

Whatever– he’ll just swipe right on the next person and go on yet another unmemorable date tomorrow. Lee Saerom, the profile reads. She’s exceptionally pretty, he has to admit, and she’s an artist, (and she’s older, but don’t ask him about that) so he’ll just ask her about her work and let her ramble for the allotted two hours while he smiles and nods.

He swipes right, and a bright pink heart pattern fills his screen, signifying a successful match. Obnoxious. It’s replaced with a time and a place, and he lets out a groan. Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 6pm, at the Coffee Shop. He was supposed to meet you at 7 tomorrow for your usual Friday night updates. 

Fuck. What if the date goes on longer than an hour?

He’s never been late for your weekly meetups, but he figures you’ll understand, since it’s completely out of his control.

Surely you won’t kill him, right?

Just in case, he recites a prayer to himself before he tucks in for the night.

You’re already nursing your third vodka soda of the night and Soobin is still nowhere to be found, which is unusual. He’s never been the most punctual person, but standing you up for an hour after your usual meeting time isn’t like him, either. He said he’d be late, but he didn’t specify how late… you’ll grill him later when he explains himself, and you’ll make him buy you a drink or two as compensation. With the comfort of a free drink in mind, you’re about to order your fourth round when Soobin finally stumbles in through the door of the bar, eyes scanning each booth until his gaze lands on you, and with an apologetic smile, he’s sliding into the seat across from you. 

He gestures to your glass, brow curled upwards, which you know means he’s teasing you. “What number is this one, noona? You always polish these things off like they’re nothing.”

“This is number three, with number four on the way, and that’s because they are. You owe me at least two for taking so long to get here, asshole.” You let out an indignant huff as you slurp the last of the cocktail through your straw, lips jutting in a comical pout.

“Okay, okay. Next one’s on me.” Soobin relents with an endeared laugh, waving down the waitstaff and ordering a beer for himself, along with another vodka soda for you. 

“Okay, now spill.”

“What? Am I supposed to have some hot gossip for you? Don’t make me guess about what drama I’ve somehow found myself in on accident.” He’s visibly confused, brows knitted together, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Obviously the only reason you would ever skip out on your dear noona was if TTL scheduled you for a date during our usual time, so spill. How bad was this one?” 

His lips part in understanding, (you can practically see the figurative lightbulb flickering on) head bobbing in an exaggerated nod before pulling his phone out, hand outstretched to show you his date’s profile. “I mean, she was okay, I guess. Pretty girl, and she was older, but she spent the entirety of our time slot babbling about her latest art project and how it’s supposedly going to blow away the industry. Which is fine, I guess, because you know I hate talking on these dates, but if she said “brush technique” and “negative space” one more time I think I would’ve tried to drown myself in my caffe mocha. The app thought so too, I guess, because when we checked our expiration date, it was exactly an hour from the start time, so it’s not like I missed out on my forever soulmate or whatever.”

Each TTL date is scheduled for an arbitrary amount of time, depending on your expiration date, which is determined from the first moment you meet– sometimes it’s just a few minutes, an hour or two, and anything longer than 24 hours is given a two hour time slot maximum. There’s supposedly an extremely rare case where you aren’t given an expiration date from the get go, regardless of your progress, meaning that you’ve found your soulmate by sheer luck, but it’s almost unheard of– most people don’t find their soulmates until they’ve completely filled up their bars, something about needing ample data to calculate optimal compatibility.

You ogle at his phone screen for a bit– she really was stunning– then guffaw at the thought of Soobin nodding halfheartedly, listening to a pretty girl talk his ear off, when most men would probably kill to be in his position. “Damn, if even an older woman that pretty can’t hold your attention, and the app confirms that, you know it’s bad… So, where does that put your progress at? Weren’t you at like, 80% last week?”

Soobin’s face practically scrunches in on itself at your remark, tapping the app once more to check his updated progress bar. “I’m going to ignore that. I’m at… 88% after I reviewed Saerom and that guy from earlier in the week. Guess it wasn’t a total waste if I got 8% closer to completion. What are you at now?”

You lift your phone to open TTL, your progress bar only having inched 2% closer to completion after your date yesterday. “75% now. I think the algorithm is personally fucking me over, or something. My last few matches have been nice enough, but I cannot keep up with their energy. It’s wringing me dry. I must be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want a golden retriever for a partner. My date yesterday just about knocked me out for good, he was that energetic.”

“Tell me about it,” Soobin commiserates. “I’ve very clearly expressed my distaste for bubbly and talkative people who probably peaked in high school, but that’s all they’re spitting out in my for you page. No offense to them, I don’t think I’ve met any straight up assholes since that one girl from last year, but it’s like the app is purposely recommending the most incompatible people to me– wait, yesterday? And I didn’t hear about this?”

You give him a pointed look, silently conveying that he also didn’t inform you of his date today until ten minutes ago. He gets the message and holds his hands up in defeat, then gestures for you to speak, dimples peeking out as he purses his lips. You sigh, rubbing your temples as you recall the most chaotic two hours of the week, maybe even your life.

“Okay, look… for the record, he was very nice to me, a perfect gentleman, but my god, could that guy talk. He was practically falling at his knees trying to impress me, which would’ve earned him a few points in my book, but his mouth was moving maybe five miles a minute at all times without a moment of rest. It was like watching a child hopped up on sugar, to be honest. He talked for forty whole minutes nonstop about pizza. Don’t even get me started on how passionate he was about his workout routine.”

Your drinks finally come around, and Soobin hands you your frosted glass, which you gratefully take a long sip out of before continuing. “And before you say anything, no, he was nothing like Kai. Also, Kai is literally like my child, and just because I babysat him all those years does not mean I want to date someone like him.”

Soobin parts his lips to respond, then scrunches his nose in distaste as you take the words right of his mouth, opting to down his drink instead. “You’re no fun.”

“But that’s why you love me, right?”

“Sure, noona, sure.”

“That’s it, asshole, you owe me another drink.”

Sunday rolls around, which means you’ve got to start scoping out this week’s dates– you hate leaving anything to the last minute, and you like to leave the end of your week as free as possible (no one is prying your precious rest time from you, not even a beautiful person with the world’s best personality). 

Which means you’re mindlessly swiping through a sea of profiles, hoping you find someone that’s at least remotely interesting. You’re prepared for a long night of doom scrolling, but you stop cold in your tracks as you come across a familiar name and face, and a lump forms in your throat.

Choi Soobin.

The algorithm is really fucking with you now. It has to be. You’ve never once even considered your best friend as a potential suitor, not because he isn’t insanely attractive and charming (and funny, and easy to talk to, and…), but because he’s your best friend. You’ve known him for so long, you’ve seen him cry when he couldn’t get the Pokemon card he wanted when he was young enough to need allowance to buy it, and he’s seen you for long enough to know you threw the nastiest toddler tantrums over being denied an ice cream purchase– the point is that you know him a little too well, and you know from experience that that’s not always ideal in romance. 

But you have been having terrible luck with your matches for so long, and two hours of Soobin’s undivided attention doesn’t seem so bad, and it would be a good time, at least…

You kick yourself mentally for even thinking of it. He’s your best friend, for god’s sake.

Yet your thumb continues to hover over his profile, quivering as you make the motion to swipe right on him without touching the screen. The guilt and the risk of maybe ruining your friendship forever clearly isn’t enough to stop you from considering him. 

The gentle, familiar smile that he’s sporting in his profile picture pierces your heart, and you’re not sure why. Maybe you’ve always had a thing for him unconsciously, maybe you just want someone who actually gets you, maybe you’re just running out of options. Or maybe you’re just tired of chasing after something you know is futile, and you want to take a chance on something, on someone, that might actually be good for you. On someone that you know would be good to you, and for you.

And so, with bated breath, you swipe right.

[Time to Love: Y/N has liked you! Open the app for more details.]

To say Soobin is struck with disbelief would be an understatement. He’s practically gaping at his phone, and he knows you’d be laughing your ass off and making fun of him if you could see him. But it’s precisely that typical flippant attitude of yours that’s got him perplexed about this development.

He’d be lying if he said he’s never once thought of you that way– he’s always thought you were pretty and kind hearted, despite your temper, and you’ve always been there for him, through thick and thin, even when he was being kind of a dick. That definitely counts for something. But he’s never thought about crossing that boundary, because 1) he’s not allowed to pursue anyone he doesn’t match with through the app anyways, and 2) matching with you could make or break your bond forever (he’s leaning towards break, though, because like he said, the watch is bullshit). In short, he’s a fucking coward and a little too cynical for his own good. 

But here it is, an opportunity for a date with you, in all its glory, and initiated by you, no less. He should be celebrating, or at least hyped up, because maybe it’ll all work out, maybe this is the solution to all his lukewarm matches over the last few months, but instead he’s downright terrified. There’s absolutely no way that you both come out of this unscathed. There’s no such thing as a perfect forever if it’s decided by a computer. There can’t possibly be a happy ending at the end of this road.

He shakes his head, as if it would clear his head of the panicked thoughts. You’re still his best friend, at the end of the day, he tells himself, and he’s sure that you’ll fight just as hard as he will to keep him in your life. So he holds onto the tiniest sliver of hope that somehow your relationship doesn’t crash and burn spectacularly, opens the app, and swipes right on you.

Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 3pm, at the Aquarium. 

A new notification pops up. Soobin’s heart stirs.

y/n noona: see you tomorrow ♥️

He feels guilty as a wave of excitement washes over him. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. You’re his best friend. His dear noona. He may as well be signing away your friendship for good. But it’d be worse if he didn’t match your enthusiasm.

soob: yup, see you tomorrow noona :]

It’s only 5 minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and already Soobin’s panicking that you’ve changed your mind and cancelled on him, writing this off as a mistake. He’s trying his very best to remain nonchalant, it’s just a date with his best friend, who he might have a sapling of a crush on, no big deal, right? Or maybe it is for the best if you cancel, then he’d have one less crippling fear to worry about.

He’s rethinking his outfit for the umpteenth time– he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, not in front of you because you’d probably think it was silly, but he also doesn’t want you thinking he shows up to dates looking like a slob. (For the record, he thinks he’s got a decent sense of fashion. He’s better than Kai, at least, though that isn’t saying much.) He’s internally debating if he should’ve gone with the navy polo shirt instead of the grey cardigan draped over his shoulders, or if he should’ve gone with the black slacks instead of the light wash jeans, but his jumbled thoughts dissipate as you tap on his shoulder, shit-eating grin and all. 

“What’s with you, Soob? You look like the fate of the universe depends on you, and you only have 5 minutes to save all of humanity.” You tease, nudging your shoulder against his. Oh, if only you knew what was really weighing on him.

He has half a mind to swat your shoulder, but he’s a little too aware that the two of you are supposed to be on a date, so instead he shoves his hands into his pockets. To his surprise, you’re more dressed up than usual, (he’s used to seeing you exclusively in oversized hoodies) and– wait, you two are practically matching, from the grey cardigan, light wash jeans, all the way down to the white sneakers. The only difference is that you’ve buttoned up your cardigan so that it functions more as a blouse, but you two clearly have definitely mastered the art of accidental couple looks.

“Okay, awkward… one of us has to change.” He teases in an attempt to ease his own racing mind, dimples peeking out as he stifles a laugh. You let out an indignant huff, pushing his massive frame with no success. He doesn’t even budge.

“Not my fault that you’re trying to steal my look. I wore it better, by the way,” You retort, but truth be told, you’re reeling at the sight of him. You’ve only ever seen him in his stuffy work attire and the worn-out, faded shirts he refuses to throw out, and seeing him in a comparably softer, more preppy look is making you see him with new eyes.

You shake your head, as if doing so will reset your perspective to factory settings and make you see him as just your best friend again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Soobin is still handsome and he looks very cute, and you’re still very much affected by it.) “Okay, so. First things first. Should we check our apps? To see if, like, we’re compatible, or I don’t know.” Your voice is stiff, like you’re buffering, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this awkward around Soobin, at least not since the day you met.

Soobin turns up his nose in disagreement and covers his watch screen and yours. “Nah, that’s bullshit. It’s already all decided, isn’t it? It’s been decided from the second we stepped into the aquarium. No point in checking now, we should decide for ourselves if this is something we want to pursue, instead of letting some computer dictate that. When it’s over, it’s over, and we can just go back to being friends, right?”

“Well, I think it’s probably better to know when to give this a rest, instead of constantly wondering if my best friend is set to be my long-term romantic partner, or whatever.” You had a point. But a part of Soobin didn’t feel ready to face the fact that you might not want to see him again like this. A much smaller part of him is still fearful that you two might not be able to turn back from this.

“Okay, okay, fine. We can check it–but not now. If we make it to a third date, then we can check how long we have. But you have to be honest and not touch it whatsoever.” Soobin doesn’t make any move to mention that he isn’t interested in seeing you again, but you don’t want to just assume that he’s into you, so you test the waters.

“Okay, I promise to be honest. But why the third date? Are you really that keen on seeing me?” You’re trying to be teasing, but you feel more desperate than anything.

Soobin doesn’t answer for a moment, and you think that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to apologize, he replies, “If we make it to a third date… then I’ll know whether we’re actually giving this a proper shot and not just for shits and giggles or as an escape from our other failed connections.”

His sincerity both surprises and flatters you, and you can’t tell if you’re supposed to be frozen in shock or hugging him, or a secret third thing, so you just stay still, absently fiddling with your fingers.

When you look up again, Soobin’s holding out his hand, and you look at him with obvious confusion. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand in his, lips pursed into a thin line. You want to make some clever jab at him, but his hands are warm and soft and they practically swallow up your much smaller ones, and you’re filled with a wash of emotions so intense that you can’t muster up the strength to retort.

Soobin notices that you’re still visibly perplexed, and he mutters. “We’re on a date, you know. We’ve got to act the part.” It’s a half truth at best; he does want to give this date a proper chance, but selfishly, he really just wants to hold your hand for two hours. If you catch onto his white lie, you don’t show it, but he doesn’t miss the rosy hue that colors your cheeks as you nod.

He’s right, you think– it is a date, and you’re the one who swiped on him first, so the least you can do is treat him like a possible suitor and not just your best friend. He deserves that much, at least, and you need to know whether this bundle of butterflies in your stomach is a passing feeling or a dull ache you’ve forgotten about, so you let him lead you into the dimly lit array of fish tanks.

You’re noticing a lot of things about Soobin.

You notice that Soobin’s eyes practically twinkle when he gets excited. It’s never been something you’ve taken note of, but you can’t help but notice it now, every time he points out a species of fish he recognizes. It’s cute. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to find your best friend cute, but you do.

You notice how his comically long fingers slot in between yours, and you’re really starting to like how it feels, though you’d die of embarrassment if you admitted as much. 

Not to mention he’s an absolutely perfect gentleman. He’s constantly asking you if you want something to eat, if you’re tired, if you’re cold, and you let him know that you’re fine each time. When you accidentally pull apart your shoelaces, he’s quick to kneel down and tie them up for you. When he stops to grab himself a bottle of juice, he offers one to you, too.

Had Soobin always been this pretty? So cute? And so sweet? How had you never taken notice of him like this all these years? (You know the answer to that, but you’re still surprised at what you’re noticing nonetheless.)

Soobin catches you staring at him while you’re both supposed to be looking at a school of clownfish, and you expect him to make some egotistical joke at your expense, but instead he gives you a warm smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, and god dammit to hell, you melt. 

The two hours pass by like nothing, and unlike your past few dates, you’re dreading the end of it, and you wish that the beep signifying it’s over would never come. To your disappointment, he releases your hand as you approach the entrance, and your hand is already missing his warmth. You turn to face him; well, not really, because you can’t bear to make eye contact with him, not when you spent the better part of two hours shamelessly ogling at him.

His voice cuts in between the thoughts rattling around in your head, and he sounds so apprehensive that it worries you. “Can I ask you something? No, wait, can you promise me something?”

You know how seriously Soobin takes his promises, so you’re a little scared for what he’s going to say next, but you nod anyway.

“Promise me that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll still be friends. Please.” The last word is so quiet that you almost miss it, and when you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, he’s giving you a pleading look so earnestly that it breaks your heart a little. 

“I promise– no, I pinky promise. We’ll be friends, no matter what.”

Since he was younger, Soobin’s held the belief that pinky promises are binding, and he knows that you know this, so you hold out your pinky, hoping that this can ease whatever worries he has on his mind.

You pinky promised. Soobin knows that it’s your unspoken way of assuring him (you’ve never been the most verbally affectionate, anyways), a quiet way of letting him know that he means just as much to you as you do to him. He links pinkies with you to seal the promise, feeling just a little bit lighter as you both make your way to the subway station together, shoulders bumping all the while.

Soobin just really, really hopes that you’ll be able to keep that promise.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 8pm tonight, at the Night Market.

You shouldn’t be surprised that your next date with Soobin comes so soon– you still have your weekly quotas to meet, and the app always schedules dates within 24 hours of matching or a positive rating, but truth be told, your surprise is solely because you just don’t know how to face him. You two had made that pinky promise to stay friends regardless of the circumstances, but you’d also resolved to treat him like a potential suitor while you two are seeing each other, so where does that leave you? 

Well, it leaves you in front of the closet with no idea what to wear. You want to look good (for Soobin, but you’re in denial at the moment), but it’s just a night market, and you know you’ll never hear the end of it if Soobin catches on that you went through lengths just to impress him.

Speaking of the devil, your phone flickers on to reveal a text from him, and you scoff as you scan its contents.

soob: so i hear you enjoyed our date

y/n noona: ignoring that. anyways

y/n noona: what’s the deal for tonight

y/n noona: i need to know asap

soob: aw, noona, do you want to see me again that badly? i’m excited, see you later tonight ♥️

y/n noona: shut up, you clearly want to see me again too. don’t be late or i’m stealing your wallet later 

y/n noona: i'm asking what’s the dress code, are we matching again :p

soob: i mean, if you insist… 🙄 i knew you wanted me

y/n noona: nvm you’re getting me in a hoodie and my raggedy sweats with the hole in the knee, fuck you

soob: no no i take it back i’m sorry 

y/n noona: ok fine you get spared just this once

y/n noona: [IMG_3687.jpg]

y/n noona: final outfit check. if we’re going to be matching it will be your decision so choose wisely

soob: wait that’s not fair

soob: noona come back

soob: DON’T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS

[y/n noona has “Liked” your message]

soob: you are so mean to me

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding when Soobin arrives, clad in a blue flannel that’s nearly identical to yours, black tee, beige cargos, and a black shoulder bag. You’d been hoping he would follow through, and there’s a small surge of pride at how you’ll be walking around the market, hand in hand, in matching outfits, but there’s something you hadn’t been counting on.

He’s wearing his glasses. 

You’ve always known that Soobin doesn’t have the best eyesight (he’s constantly squinting to see things, but so do you), but now that you’re seeing him in a new light, his usual black frames are suddenly the most attractive thing in the world, and you may as well be holding a neon sign that blares “I HEART NERDS” for him to see.

You make a painfully pathetic attempt to mask your delight by waving at him with a grin, and thankfully Soobin doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t make any show of it, and instead he simply salutes at you with two fingers and cracks a grin. As he sidles up to you, his large hand slips into yours with a little too much ease, fingers immediately interlocking with yours, and it sends your head into a frenzy all over again. As if he’s aware that your mind is going haywire, Soobin leans down towards you, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you.

You’re frantically trying to make some motion to stop him, it’s so sudden and your cheeks are way too hot now, and he’s way too close, and your damn arms won’t budge–

“I hope you came ready to eat. I came armed with a fuck load of cash because I am going to stuff myself silly with food, and I am not getting turned away by the ‘cash only’ booths.” There’s a fire of determination in Soobin’s eyes, paired with a wide grin, and you don’t know whether to be concerned for him or for yourself, but nonetheless, you’re a little relieved that you completely misread the situation. Before you can say anything in response, though, he’s dragging you towards the sweeping lines of booths, already making a beeline for some takoyaki. 

The tray full of octopus balls in Soobin’s hands is steaming and they smell absolutely mouthwatering, and, in true Soobin fashion, he gets over excited and tries to pop the entire thing in his mouth in one go. He immediately regrets it, of course, because immediately he’s whining over the fact that his tongue is now most definitely burnt and numb from the piping hot orb of batter he’d just tried to scarf down. You might be finding him insanely attractive now, but he’s still as clumsy as ever, and you can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles in your throat at the sight.

“Dumbass… you should know damn well that you shouldn’t put a whole takoyaki in your mouth like that.” You tease, snickering as he fans his tongue once he swallows.

“Shut up! I couldn’t help myself!” He lets out a childish huff, stuffing another ball into his mouth with a comically exaggerated pout, and consequently huffing and puffing at the heat that blooms in his mouth once more. The whole display is undeniably adorable, and it takes all of the willpower you have to resist the burning desire to squish his cheeks. 

The tray of takoyaki is polished off in no time, and a bowl of bingsu, a cup of fish cake soup, two sticks of tanghulu, a plate of sweet rice cakes, an ice cream cone, and a million other things you lost track of follow suit into the bottomless pit that seems to be Soobin’s stomach. He wasn’t kidding when he said he came ready to eat– he’s plowing through the booths like it’s his last meal on Earth. He’s gracious enough to offer you half of his portions, at least, so it’s not like he’s leaving you to starve. (you’d kill him if he did, though.) Once he’s had his fill, his lips curl up into a mischievous grin as he jabs his thumb in the direction of a different section of the market, one filled with countless games: target shooting, beanbag toss, darts– the row of booths seems to stretch on forever. 

“Oh, you’re on, Soob. Don’t think I’m going easy on you because we’re on a date.”

“Yeah? Don’t think I’m going easy on you because you’re older.”

Contrary to both of your words, Soobin is absolutely fucking terrible at the beanbag toss, despite his long arms definitely giving him an advantage, and you’re no good at shooting or throwing and aiming at anything, really, so the two of you leave each booth with empty hands, though you’re laughing as if you’ve hit the jackpot.

Even though you two fail spectacularly at every single game they have available, you’re suddenly aware of how much your cheeks hurt. From smiling. From laughing. When was the last time that happened on a date? Or ever, even?

Soobin ventures off on his own while you’re lost in thought, and he returns from his little solo adventure with yet another serving of tanghulu (the third one of the night: strawberry for him, tangerine for you this time). You’re reaching out to grab the sweet from his outstretched hand, when suddenly you jump as loud popping sounds blare overhead. There’s a beat of silence before a flurry of colorful lights blooms in the sky, and your shoulders relax once you realize it’s just fireworks.

You’re admiring the colors and shapes of the fireworks display as you crunch on your tanghulu, and you’re so enraptured you almost miss the feeling of someone’s gaze on you. Almost.

When you turn to confirm your suspicions, you’re right, it’s Soobin who’s staring at you, but he’s staring at you so intently, with such intensity, that you immediately grow flustered– he’s never looked at you like that before– and you’re immensely thankful that the flashes of light in the sky mask the rosy hue that’s surely staining your cheeks. Just when you’re about to swing your head away to focus your attention on the fireworks once more, his hand flies out to cradle your chin in his palm, keeping your gaze fixated on him. 

Then he’s closing the distance, slowly but surely, fixated on you all the while to gauge your reaction, and even though you’re frozen in shock, you don’t think you would’ve moved, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut at the last minute, nerves getting the better of you, until his lips brush against yours tentatively, as if he’s hesitating, holding back.

You meet his gaze once more, and neither of you say a word, you just nod in response to the pleading look in his eyes, as if asking your permission. He breaks out into the most beautiful smile, one that you wish you could snap a mental photo of and tuck away in a safe place in your mind, and then he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you.

He kisses you with such fervor, as if he’s been wanting to do this his whole life, and you can’t help the way you practically melt in his hold, pressing yourself against his broad figure. The fireworks display is all but forgotten, the only thing on either of your minds being the way your lips meld into each other, and the way your hands clasp together.

Soobin’s in a daze when you two finally break away for a much-needed breath, and you’re sure you look like you’re in an equally hazy state. For a moment, you two are dead silent, staring at each other, with only the sound of your soft pants and the popping of fireworks in the background to fill the silence.

Soobin is the one who breaks the silence first, smiling sheepishly as he rubs the nape of his neck. “To be honest, I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers, and you can feel your jaw go slack in shock. Soobin had been wanting to kiss you. Soobin has thought about kissing you. Your best friend Soobin wanted to kiss you.

“Why didn’t you?” You reply without thinking, but really, you know very well exactly why he’s never done it. He’s your best friend, always has been, and he’d be doing much more than fucking up your friendship by kissing you before you two matched. Naturally, Soobin leaves that question unanswered, posing a question of his own instead.

“What made you match with me?”

“Well…” You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to rattle off a list of qualities that make him desirable– you’re already feeling flustered enough after he kissed you like that, and you’re not looking to inflate his stupid ego or risk being the butt of his teasing. But you want to be honest with him. You don’t want him thinking his suppressed desire has been one-sided all this time.

“I guess I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go on a date with you. We wouldn’t be bored, we would know how to keep each other happy, and understand each other, that kind of thing… and I was a little tired of seeing you go through all those people you didn’t click with, who didn’t get you, especially not the way I did. You know I’ve never liked the people you were seeing, and I was always annoyed by the idiots you dated in high school, and all your stupid matches… I always thought everyone took you for granted, and no one seemed to care about actually getting to know you. I thought I was just looking out for you, caring about you, as your best friend, but maybe I was actually just jealous.”

“Jealous? Really?” He looks so incredulous it embarrasses you that you have to clarify further. 

“Yes, jealous… I especially hated what’s-her-name, Hyeji? That one student council girl who dumped you in front of the whole school.”

Soobin grimaces at the mention of her name, and you can’t help the relief you feel at his response. “Ugh, her. Led me on for months because she thought I was cute and then when we started dating she nitpicked every single thing I did, all because I wasn’t the suave drama lead of her dreams and then dumped me because she couldn’t change me. You know she threw away a whole pack of my Pokemon cards because she thought it was ‘too nerdy’?”

“See? This is what I mean. None of your romantic partners actually seem to appreciate you as you are. And so I don’t know, something came over me, and I wanted to see if I could do a good job because I  know I appreciate you for who you are and now I’m confused, and I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship forever, and–”

To your relief, Soobin doesn’t laugh– instead he cuts your rambling off with a quick kiss, and it flusters you into silence. “Shh. We promised, remember?”

“I mean, we also promised each other when we were in high school that we’d settle down and raise ten dogs on a farm together.”

Soobin laughs this time. “Yeah, I remember that. But this is a pinky promise, isn’t it? It’s different.”

“You’re right… but it’s scary, you know? Coming to this realization about you, and thinking about you this way, and enjoying it, but also worrying about how we’re going to get out of this after our relationship expires... I don’t want to get too carried away and change our dynamic forever.” You’re chewing the skin off your lower lip nervously (you never did break that habit, so now your lip is bleeding), and, while Soobin’s voice is gentle, you know him well enough to detect the subtle tremor as he speaks.

“I know. But we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything remove you from my life for good. Especially not the watch.” His voice is so low, so quiet, you’d miss it if you weren’t fixated on him, as if he’s trying to convince himself, and you squeeze his hand in what you hope is an admirable attempt at reassuring him. “The app hasn’t told us our connection’s expired yet, so I just really, really want to give this a chance. A proper chance, so I can say I did it before I get matched with my ‘real’ soulmate, or whatever. I don’t want to think about what could have been, especially not with you. I think that’d be worse for us.”

You know exactly what he means. Harboring dormant feelings for your best friend never bodes well, at least not in the movies and the books, so you may as well get this pining out of your system, and let it become a distant memory as soon as possible, if it’s not meant to be. It’s only fair, for both of your futures, and for your friendship. (and though neither of you want to admit it, the thought of not being each other’s soulmates is depressing.)

“Look, Soob… I really want to give this a chance, too. I want to see where it takes us while we’re allowed to. I want to try. It’s scary, it’s fucking terrifying, but you’re my best friend, Soob. I promise you won’t lose me because of some stupid watch. Pinky promise.” You try to keep your voice upbeat as you hold out your pinky towards him, offering a tender smile. He links his pinky with yours, and you can see his frame visibly relax once he does. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, pinkies still linked, and silently hope that you’ll be able to uphold your promise to him. You’ve never been any good with breakups. Soobin knows that.

But you’ll be okay with him, right?

He’s your best friend, after all.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

…

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 2pm tomorrow, at the Botanical Gardens.

Soobin decided on his own that he’s picking you up for the third date, and he let you know as much.  After last night’s events though, this means that you’re turning your entire closet upside down trying to find the sweet spot for your look today, because your head is jumbled with far too many thoughts, all of them about Soobin. Every outfit you think up is either too dressy, or too casual, or too out there, or too bland, and you have half a mind to reschedule with your mind in the state that it is. Unfortunately for you, Soobin is already on his way, and you’re not the type of asshole to tell him to head back home and forget the whole date, so you just stare at your pile of clothes on the floor, hoping that somehow you’ll be enlightened with the perfect outfit idea and get yourself looking presentable before he comes knocking.

The universe is clearly not on your side, though, because your doorbell rings not even a minute later, and all you’ve picked out is your jeans and you’re still very much topless. You shoot a message to Soobin, thumbs flying frantically as you let him know you’re not quite ready yet– he might be your best friend in the entire world, but you’re not ready for him to see you under your clothes just yet, especially now that you’re properly seeing each other.

You’re still not sure what to wear, but you figure a beige knit sweater should be safe– you won’t look like you’re trying too hard, but you also won’t look like you’re not trying at all. When you swing the door open to finally greet Soobin, your breath quite literally gets taken away, because he trips and almost knocks you over with his lanky frame, but also, he’s breathtaking.

He’s clearly put a lot of thought into his outfit, which is very cute, and he looks absolutely stunning. A sleek black cardigan with white striped accents on the sleeve, a white dress shirt that clearly looks freshly pressed– hell, he’s even wearing a tie– and those godforsaken glasses that have you in a chokehold somehow. You don’t even bother hiding your delight– he’s so beautiful, and you know he needs a little validation after he probably spent hours putting his look together.

He catches you staring wordlessly, and he flushes with embarrassment.“What? Too much? I knew I should have skipped on the tie–” He grumbles, making a move to loosen it, but he’s stopped by your hand over his.

“No. You look great, Soob. Seriously.” You’re not used to being verbally affectionate, especially not with him, but when he looks that sad, like a kicked puppy, you know better than to tease him when he’s unsure of himself. Despite that, you’re still shy as you reassure him. “You look beautiful.”

The way he brightens when he hears your words is almost cartoonish, and this time, you can’t hold back your laughter, which earns a pout from him, which in turn only fuels your laughter further. You appease him by lacing your fingers with his (he’s apparently a lot easier to please than you remember, but maybe that’s your imagination), and he responds by placing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is tender and sweet, and you think about what it’d be like to have Soobin do that to you every day.

“Well, shall we?” He bows exaggeratedly with his free arm, giving you a blinding smile.

You mirror his smile, and playfully curtsy in return. “We shall.”

When you two arrive at the botanical gardens, it’s jam-packed with people (a worker explains that their tulips are in full bloom, so everyone’s vying for their social media moment), and Soobin is visibly startled, though he recovers quickly as he turns to you. 

“You okay? There’s so many people... I think this is twice, maybe even thrice as many people as there were at the night market.” You don’t do well with crowds, the crowd at the night market was probably the most you could handle, but you know that you don’t have a choice– you have to follow through with the date as scheduled, or risk a fine that neither of you can afford, so you just nod, your grip on his hand tightening. 

Soobin somehow finds a slightly less crowded area of the tulip fields for you two to stroll in after doing a quick sweep (thank god for his height, and that he uses it to his advantage), but you still feel tense as you walk hand in hand. There’s still a decent amount of people, with more spilling in excitedly, phone cameras in hand, and you have a bad feeling the crowd will only grow in size as the day drags on. You just hope you’re as convincing an actress as you think you are, and that Soobin won’t notice as he reads the identification cards for each flower.

You’re caught off guard when he gently pushes you down onto a nearby bench, and crouches in front of you, clasping your other hand in his so that both of them are occupied. The concerned expression on his face tells you that you’re nowhere near an Oscar for your performance, and that he’s most definitely caught on to your discomfort. Normally you’d be embarrassed at the display– you hate making a scene in public, but your anxiety is getting the better of you, and it’s nice to know that he still knows you as well as you thought.

“Noona… look. I know you don’t like crowds, especially excitable and hectic ones like these. If you really, really feel like this is too much for you, we can cancel the date and go home. I want you to have a good time, and I know it’s hard for you when there’s so many people.”

You’re chewing at your lower lip again, and Soobin lets go of one of your hands to thumb at your lip to stop you before you tear it open with your teeth. “But Soob, we came all this way. And you dressed so nicely for me, for this date, and I spent all this time wanting to look good for you, and spend time with you…” You trail off when your breath catches in your throat, your chin trembling as your eyes well up. “It’d be such a waste to cancel after all our time and effort.”

Once again Soobin’s thumb is gently swiping over your cheeks when the tears finally spill over, hushing you with the soft sincerity that he’s prone to when he’s not teasing you. 

“Hey, hey… we can reschedule for another day, can’t we? We don’t have to do this, noona. There’s always next time. It won’t be a waste, I promise.” You feel so apologetic you could die. Soobin’s being so patient and sweet and understanding with you and here you are, kicking up a fuss. The least you could do is power through and follow through with your scheduled date, and you’d hate to miss out on this time with him that you’ve been looking forward to. You were excited for this date, and you want him to know that.

“I think I’d feel worse if we cancelled after we went through all this trouble, and especially if it was all because of me… just give me a moment to calm myself down.” Soobin nods in response, cradling your cheek in his palm, and you sigh appreciatively at the tender gesture. He doesn’t say anything as you wipe away the remnants of your tears and blow your nose– he just holds your hand, letting you gather yourself, and you think for a moment that this must be the benefit of falling for your best friend.

Once the tears have finally subsided, and you’ve had a moment to calm your nerves, you meet Soobin’s eyes, which are searching yours, as if scanning for any lingering signs of discomfort. When he can’t find any, and you give him a reassuring look and a grateful smile, he seizes the opportunity to steal a peck from your lips, grinning cheekily with his tongue between his teeth when he pulls away. 

“H-hey! What was that for?!” Your shock and surprise is real, but your indignance certainly isn’t, if your rosy cheeks are any indication. Your discomfort is forgotten, at least temporarily, so you’re glad for that.

“Oh… just because. You liked it, though.” He’s so smug, that stupid asshole, but he’s right, so you pull him in for another quick kiss before you try to make a run for it. Unfortunately for your escape plan, you’ve forgotten that your hand is still very much interlocked with his, and he’s significantly stronger than you, so he easily pulls you back into his embrace. You can’t say you mind, though– he’s warm and he smells good, like jasmine and sandalwood and the faint scent of vanilla, and if you weren’t already so flustered you’d bury your face in his broad chest.

“Feeling better now?” The words fall from Soobin’s lips with a teasing lilt, but you know it’s his way of genuinely checking in on you, so you answer sincerely.

“Much better. Though I’d still like to avoid the crowds and find somewhere else to have our date… if you don’t mind? The tulips are pretty, and as much as I would like to admire them too, there’s just so many people fighting for a good photo…” 

“Of course, I get it. I saw a sign pointing to a field of azaleas over there that is probably getting a lot less foot traffic than the tulips, so we could head over there?” He gestures in the opposite direction of the tulip field, and you’re more than happy to oblige, letting him tug you along.

Thankfully Soobin’s guess is correct, because there’s only a handful of people at the azalea field when you two arrive, and the tension in your shoulders finally lets up. The dainty red and pink flowers have their own quaint charm, and they’re vibrant and eye-catching. You crouch down to get a closer look, taking hold of a delicate petal in between the pads of your fingers to admire them.

“Did you know red and pink azaleas represent love and romance? Roses aren’t the only flower of love like everyone seems to think.” Soobin’s deep voice rings in your ear and you startle a little, partially because he’s way closer to you than you expected (it’s going to be a while before you get used to maintaining close proximity with him) and partially because you had no idea Soobin was just casually carrying the knowledge of flower meanings in that pretty head of his.

“They’re so pretty… they’d make a much more unique gift than roses for special occasions, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with roses, but they’re kind of done to death, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Soobin looks both ways, then plucks a flower, and you hiss in disapproval at him. “Hey–! What are you doing? The sign says that we can’t pick the flowers!” Luckily, none of the staff has taken notice of his mischievous little act, but even if they did, you can’t help but wonder if they’d even care, when he could charm his way into anything.

Soobin tucks the flower behind your ear, seemingly ignoring your disapproval as he hums a tune under his breath. “A gift for our special occasion, and a little commemoration of our budding romance, or something. And look, noona, you’re so pretty. Just like a flower.” He punctuates his statement with the sound of his phone camera flashing, followed by four more, until you’re blushing profusely with embarrassment.

“Soobin, that’s enough–” Your cheeks are beet red– you can feel it from the sheer amount of blood running into them– and though you really like that Soobin’s taking pictures of you for him to keep, you’re extremely camera shy, and he knows that, which is probably why he’s so insistent.

“Actually, the issue is that I didn’t take enough. Now smile for the camera!” You have to practically wrestle your way away from the camera, but not before he snaps a few more of you smiling bashfully at him. He catches up to you with ease (damn those long legs of his), arms secure around your frame as you squeal, though you’re secretly pleased that you’re in his hold.

The time once again ticks by like nothing as you walk side by side, admiring the blooms around you and snapping photos of each other (“For wallpaper usage purposes,” Soobin says, and you blush again), and before you know it, your watches are beeping to signify that your two hours are up. Soobin sobers up almost immediately, expression unreadable, and though he doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand, you know what’s on his mind, because the same thing is on yours.

There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air once the two of you reach the entrance of the gardens– it’s the third date, after all, and you promised you’d find out your expiration date if you made it this far. You’re relieved that your watches haven’t blared just yet, signifying the end of your connection, but you’re still struck with the nervousness of finding out how long you’ll last. You think you’ll never get over it if you only get a few months– or worse, a few days with him– after all this secret pining and yearning.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Soobin was somehow eerily calm about the whole thing. But you do know better, and you know that he’s just trying to put on a brave face for you, and for himself. The two of you open Time to Love in silence, hands still interlocked, swiping to the ‘Love Countdown’ tab with your free hands, and brace yourselves. Soobin gives you a reassuring nod, and you respond back with what you hope is an equally reassuring smile, and that your expression doesn’t betray the fear bubbling deep within you.

Soobin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Okay, on the count of three,”

“One…” “Two…”

“Three!”

When both of you tap the in-app tab, there isn’t an array of numbers indicating an expiration date with a ticking countdown, as you expected and had grown accustomed to on your previous dates– in fact, there isn’t a single number on the screen– and instead there’s an infinity sign.

You two don’t have an expiration date.

You and Soobin look at each other, then at your watches, then at each other again. 

“Wait, we don’t have an expiration date–”

Then the realization dawns on both of you, and it hits you like a truck.

“Wait, we’re soulmates?!”

Both of you are sporting the same bewildered expression, and you both go to check your progress bars, just to be sure– they’re full, just as you’d expect after being matched with your soulmate. So that’s why your watch alarms haven’t gone off. You two were the one in a million. Once the shock finally wears off, it’s replaced with pure, unbridled joy, and when Soobin sweeps you off your feet to gather you in his arms, there’s an emotion bubbling in you that’s equal parts unfamiliar and yet welcome.

You’d thought all this time, all these years, that there was no way you should feel this way about your best friend, of all people. That you shouldn’t fuck this up, because Soobin has always been there for you, and you’ve always been there for him. As his friend. As your friend. 

But here is the universe, telling you that you’re fated to love him, and that he’s fated to love you in return. 

And love him you do. You love Soobin. And when you look at him, and see the way he’s looking at you, with fondness practically dripping from his gaze, you know he loves you too. 

Maybe the watch really is bullshit. Maybe it is statistically impossible to decide someone’s life partner based on an algorithm.

But maybe it’s onto something, because it seems silly to have ever thought of being with anyone except Soobin. You never would’ve thought to look for your forever right next to you, and yet, here he is, in the flesh. Was it a coincidence that he made it onto your recommended matches that fateful night? Was it a coincidence that he felt the same way you did?

Soobin’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and you melt in his heat, kissing him back with a fierce fervor, as if desperately communicating the depth of the feelings you’ve let build up silently after all these years. You decide that there’s no such thing as coincidences– he’s always known what’s best for you, and you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. You just didn’t know that the answer to both of those things was each other.

“I love you, noona.” He whispers with a bashful, dimpled smile, and your heart swells.

“I love you too, Soob.”

Soobin has always been counting down to something. 

To the end of another grueling workday, the next League of Legends patch update, to anything, so he always has something to look forward to. But he’s never looked forward to this.

The love countdown has always been something he despised and dreaded– he’s always wanted to be the master of his own fate, without the shackles of the app tying him down with each new connection. He’d always thought that his soulmate would be some poorly matched individual who he’d have a mediocre life with, but all that seems to be proven wrong as he looks at you.

He hates being wrong. But when he sees the way you smile, the way you regard him with the utmost love and affection in your gaze, the way you hold his hand as if you’ll lose him if you let go– he thinks he’s willing to concede defeat, at least this time.

Maybe that stupid watch does know a thing or two about love. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe this is all just pure coincidence. But despite it all, Soobin is thankful that this is where he ends up. That both of you had been counting down all this time to each other. 

Because if there's anyone he can count on in this world, it's you.

[ln4bub]

hii i love your five so much omfg i was wondering if you could do 11 and 83 with lando or daniel w a bit of a breeding kink i’ve got major baby fever rn😭🫶

A/N i wasn't planning on writing this one yet, but the dr3 breeding kink was voted for in my last poll and so this one had to be done so i could tag it properly for the anon that requested it <3

DR3 Request

---------------------------------------------

Lando was always in control; being the deciding voice in what needs to be changed with the McLaren he had to drive week in, week out. So when the MCL-60 wasn't performing, leaving him stranded out in P17 or scraping points in P9, you could see it was starting to get to him. You'd bore the brunt of his frustration, traumatising poor Oscar after every bad result. But it was wearing Lando down, and so when he dragged you back to the hotel after the Canadian GP you were half expecting him to break.

So when his lips greedily meshed with yours you were surprised, you thought for sure this would be the final straw for him. His tongue clashed with yours, tasting the fruity soda you had consumed during the race. The groan he lets out into your mouth makes your body tingle, pulling at the hairs at the nape of his neck. Lando pulls you on top of him, collapsing on the bed you shared. He pulls his lips away from yours with a smack, heavy breaths now filling the space between you.

"I want you to take control tonight."

Your stomach clenches at his words, images of a flushed and desperate Lando writhing underneath you fill your mind. "Are you sure?" You mutter back, brushing that one loose curl from his forehead. His eyes close at your soft touch before fluttering open, glazed over and wide staring at you. "So sure baby, just don't want to think right now." He practically whispers, voice nervous and slightly shaky.

You press your lips to his forehead, leaving a faint glossy sheen behind. He smiles softly up at you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips in nervousness, waiting for your response. "Whatever you need," you tell him, mirroring his own smile. He leans forward to kiss you, lips hovering over your own before he feels a sharp tug in his hair. His mouth stays parted, eyes closing as you brush your lips gently over his own. You feel the way he tries to capture your lips, the barely there brush leaving behind a thin layer of spit to add to your lip-gloss.

Your tongue peaks out, running over his lower lip before capturing it between your teeth and pulling gently. Lando whimpers at the sting, large hands encompassing your face to pull you towards his own. Your lips move in sync with his, practiced and perfected over time. You adjust your position, straddling him as you continue to kiss. He whines at the weight of you against his cock, straining now against his black jeans.

Your soft hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing it up to expose his tanned skin. Lando takes the hint and removes his team merch, throwing it on the floor with a thud. His large hands slide up your back, kissing along your jaw as your nails begin lightly scratching his back. "Take it off, please, wanna see you baby." Lando whispers against your skin, the movement of his lips against your neck making you moan softly. You heed his request, pulling your dress off and leaving you in your matching set. It was Lando's favourite, all black with custom fluoro yellow piping around the edges.

He groans at the sight of you, leaning back into the pillows when you gently shove his chest. Your lips connect with his own once more, sloppily coating them in the last of your lip gloss. Lando chases your lips as you pull away but you simply smirk at him, dipping your head to suck at the apex of his jaw. A loud moan leaves Lando's mouth at the action, his head tilting back to give you more access to his thick neck; access that you happily utilise.

Your lips are everywhere, overwhelming Lando in every sense, nibbling and sucking before swiping your tongue over the fresh marks left behind. Normally you'd avoid giving him hickeys but the next race wasn't until July so they had time to fade, and Lando loved the feeling of you claiming him in this way. His cock was starting to throb in his jeans with each press of your lips against his skin, especially when you migrated further south.

You kissed every inch of his skin, tracing every mole across his chest and stomach with your lips. His body erupted in goosebumps with each touch, squirming underneath you at the teasing. You slide your pinkies underneath the waistband of his jeans before undoing the button and sliding down the zipper. You hear Lando breathe a sigh of relief at the release of pressure, lifting his hips to allow you to slide his jeans down.

You kiss his length of his underwear, feeling it twitch with the first touch of your lips. "Y/N, babe, come here." Lando mutters, pulling at your arm. You hover over his bulge, the heat from between your legs radiating for Lando to feel. "What is it baby?" You ask, looking into Lando's glossy eyes. His pupils are blown wide, lips red and bitten as a consequence of your teasing. "Just want to feel you, is that okay?" He asks, eyes pleading.

"Of course it is Lan, but you're gonna have to beg for it, can you do that for me?" You question, dragging your nails down his chest as he smiles shyly with a nod. You remove your remaining underwear as Lando does the same before hovering over his hard cock, the tip bumping your clit as you position yourself.

"Please baby, need to feel you." Lando mutters as you glide your pussy over his cock, coating him in your wetness. He stutters out a groan at the feeling of your slick covering him, "Oh god, so fucking wet. Please, god please, let me feel you baby." He continues, hands squeezing your hips in an effort not to buck his hips into you. You slide his tip into your pussy, moaning at the stretch. Lando echoes the same moan, cock twitching at the feeling of your warmth.

"Fuck, feels s'good baby, more, please, give me more please, wanna be buried inside you s'bad." Lando hurries out, voice strained with restraint as he tries not to slam himself inside you. You heed his request, slamming yourself down onto his length before riding him at a wild pace, your legs immediately starting to burn.

"Holy shit, oh my god, love you, love being inside you, so good to me, yes baby, don't stop." Streams of praise and whines leave Lando's mouth, his body falling slack at the pleasure rippling over him. Moans spill out of the both of you, the burning pain of your legs adding to your pleasure as his cock hits you at the perfect angle. "Fuck Lan, made for me weren't you baby?" You mutter, hand resting on the side of his flushed face.

He nods with a whine, "Yeah baby, all yours, no-one else's, fuck yes. Use me just like that, my cock's all for you." His mouth drops open in a loud moan of your name, "So close, wanna feel you cum, please cum, need it." He slurs, hairline beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat. Your hand slips down from his face, your other hand joining it to wrap around his thick neck as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick.

His thumb reaches over from where his hand has sat on your hips, rubbing against your clit with every bounce you make. It sends you flying over the edge, your walls clenching around Lando's cock and pulling his own orgasm from him. He releases with a loud groan, your hands tightening around his neck. His cum fills you, beginning to spill out from where you remained connected. You ease the pressure on his neck, collapsing forward on top of him.

You lift yourself on shaky legs, allowing Lando to slip out of you. You crawl up the bed before swinging your legs over Lando's face, his large hands cupping your ass. "Clean up your mess Lan." You tell him and he wastes no time, pulling you against his face as his tongue delves between your folds. He flicks and swirls like a madman, shaking his face in-between your legs, his nose bumping your clit with each movement as he cleans the combination of your cum that spills out. It doesn't take long for you to cum on his tongue, sensitive from your first orgasm.

Lando lifts you off his face, cuddling himself into you but not before kissing you sweetly, allowing you to taste the both of you on his tongue. "Thank you." He mutters, a sentiment repeated at the next race when Lando gets P4, and the next race when Lando gets his first home podium, and the week after when he secures another P2.

Oscar stands next to you in the garage as Lando gives his interviews after the race, "Whatever you did to him in that hotel room after Canada must have worked miracles, are you a witch?" He asks, laughing at the blush that coats your face. "Shut up pastry, unless you're only asking because you want some help getting those podiums too?" You retort. Oscar blushes fiercely, causing you to laugh this time before Lando joins you both, "What's so funny?"

[aklaustaleteller]

On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really.

Word Count - 1.4k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour. 

[musings-of-a-rose]

My First, My Last, My Always - a PedroStories Secret Santa Exchange Event

Pairing: Francisco “Frankie” Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 2751

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: @prolix-yuy My beloved LJ - when I got your name, I literally squeed! And then felt an immediate sense of “omg will I be able to write something worthy of her?” I thought and thought about what to write for you and then I had it. I have had this idea for a Frankie fic since I started posting back in late 2021, but I’d never written it. I even had a name for it and a plot line! Now I know it’s because I was saving it for you. Have a very happy whatever you celebrate and know that not only are you extremely talented, you are one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

**This is for the @pedrostories Secret Santa exchange event!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

I met Frankie when we were 5. I had just moved to the neighborhood, in the middle of summer. Which meant no school, so no way to make friends. A few days later, as my parents were unpacking, I sat on the couch, leaning on the back of it to stare out the front window. To my surprise, on the front porch of the house across the street from me sat a boy. He had his head in his hands and looked a little sad and lonely, his brown hair and loose curls sticking at odd angles, like he had woken up and come outside. 

“Mom, can I go say hi to the boy across the street?” I ask, already getting off the couch. 

My dad glances through the front window, seeing the boy on the steps. “Sure. See if he wants to play soccer.” He tosses me a soccer ball that he had just unpacked, which I miss. 

I grab it and head outside, walking straight towards the boy. He doesn’t seem to pay me any mind until I’m on his lawn. He looks up at me, furiously wiping at his eyes. 

“Hi!” I say, smiling at him. 

“H-hi,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowing together.

We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Do you want to play soccer?”

He sniffs. “Yeah, sure.” He stands, coming to meet me in his yard. We end up just kicking the ball back and forth for a minute. His shoulders are still slumped, like he’s carrying something heavy. I stop the ball with my foot, taking a step closer to him.

“Are you ok?” I ask, my face full of concern.

“ ‘m fine,” he mumbles. 

“It’s ok if you’re sad. I am too,” I confess. He looks at me, cocking his head.

“You’re sad?”

I nod. “Yeah. We just moved here. My dad got a new job. I had to leave my friends.”

He nods. “Sorry about your friends.”

I shrug. “Thanks. So are you ok?”

He looks at his house and then back at me, coming closer. “I don’t even know you.”

I tell him my name. “But call me Rea.”

“Frankie….my parents fight a lot. Sometimes it’s too loud. I come out here to get some quiet.”

“Oh. Well, if you want, you can come over to my house whenever you need to get away.”

His eyes widen, filling with a light I hadn’t seen yet. “I can? You mean it?”

I nod, a smile forming on my face. “Yeah! We can play games, my mom makes great snacks, and my dad is building me a treehouse soon!”

From that day on, Frankie and I were inseparable. We lucked out in being placed in the same classroom that fall, Frankie taking me on a tour of the school. He told me what bathrooms were stinky and what kids were mean. He came over pretty much every day, my parents taking an immediate liking to him when I came back home with him. I did overhear them saying something about that poor boy, but they never complained. Frankie was there for family game night, pizza night, and movie nights. My parents took him to the county fair with us, the zoo, and our weekly trips to the library, where I would get every book they had on drawing and Frankie would pick out books on flying. He once told me he wanted to be a pilot. 

Middle school is pretty much the first time we spent away from each other, since some of our classes were different. He took shop and I took art, trying to hone my skills as an artist as it brought me so much joy. I don’t know how I would’ve survived middle school without his presence, his strength to help me through a really rough transition time. He would claim it was all me supporting him, but I think we just work well together.

In 8th grade, Frankie came over for pizza night as usual, us heading out into our treehouse after to hangout and watch a movie on a tv I had carted up there with a long extension cord. It had a vhs player in it and so we would watch whatever we could rent. We settled down and got comfortable, a bowl of popcorn between us. 

“Hey, Rea?” Frankie looks nervous, not quite looking at me. 

“Yeah?” My words are garbled because of the popcorn in my mouth.

He clears his throat, still not looking at me. “Have you kissed anyone yet?”

I stop chewing. I had wondered if the boys talked like the girls, as that’s all they could talk about. Kissing boys. I hadn’t thought about it at all, until it felt like I was the only girl who hadn’t kissed anyone yet.

“Uh…no. You?” My stomach fluttered like it had butterflies in it and I didn’t know why. 

“N-no.” We sat there for a moment, the movie continuing on in the background. “Maybe we could kiss each other? So we could say we did it?”

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I hadn’t felt like this before, other than the time Frankie took my hand at the fair and guided me through the haunted mansion that we’d been through a dozen times a few weeks back. 

“Oh. Uh, y-yeah.” 

Frankie sits up, finally looking at me. “You sure? I just thought since we knew each other it wouldn’t be weird.”

I sit up too. “Yeah. Makes sense.” 

After a few awkward body shifts, he pressed his lips to mine and the butterflies in my stomach went wild. And when he broke the kiss I’ll admit, I was more than a little sad. His face still close to mine, he gave me a small smile, those dimples on display.

“There. Now we’ve each kissed someone.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but that first kiss was when things changed, I think. We started high school that next year, our schedules separating us further. Frankie joined ROTC (Reserve Officer’s Training Corps) and I joined the art club, my parents surprising me with private instruction from a local artist that I admired. We still saw each other at lunch, and he was still over at our house more often than not, these days more because of whomever his mom was currently dating. But everything felt…different. I brushed it off, not knowing how to put it into words.

Then, our senior year, Frankie came to me with another proposition. Neither of us had been intimate with someone else, and who better than someone we know and trust? The boys had been talking about it and the girls had definitely been talking about it. I wasn’t against the idea of sex. I just never got around to it. So when Frankie proposed the idea at our weekly movie after pizza night, I agreed, that familiar butterflies in my stomach feeling coming flooding back. 

In true Frankie fashion, he came prepared and had studied. He set up the treehouse with extra cushions and candles, putting flowers everywhere, with some music in the background. He already knew about protection and knew how to use it, shyly admitting he had asked his friend Santi how to put one on. Frankie was gentle with me, making sure I was ok as we both shared this experience. After, we laid together in the blankets, Frankie holding me to his side as his fingers traced the skin on my hip, both of us content to just be with the other. 

Things didn’t technically change between us, aside from another romp or 2 in the hay, so to speak. I didn’t understand why he never asked me out until a couple months later, when he told me he signed up for the army. 

“Go to college, Rea. Get that art degree and make millions off your drawings. You’re amazing.”

And while I shed many tears, I did just as he asked, even driving him to the airport on his way to basic, where he gently kissed me and told me to live my life, but don’t forget to write. 

I wrote to Frankie often, chronicling my college life as he told me about his, once his time in basic training was up. We still had weekly calls where I would tell him about my drawings, and he would tell me animatedly about learning to fly helicopters and also that his friend Santi was with him too. 

I was the first one he told about going for a special forces group, Delta Force, and his acceptance there. Santi’s too. Sometimes it would be a few weeks between us chatting, but I understood. He was dealing with literal life and death scenarios. Or at least preparing for them. 

I picked him up every time he came home from tour, sometimes with a girl on his arm. I’ll admit the first time I saw it, a part of me envisioned leaping on the poor girl and tearing her eyes out. But I had remind myself that he was overseas and I’m sure it gets lonely and I’m glad he had someone to comfort him, no matter how much I wished it was me. I dated too after that, the longest one sticking around for about 8 months before I caught him cheating on me with his secretary. Which is incredibly cliche of him. 

I eventually graduated with an art history degree, getting a job at a local art gallery and selling my own drawings on the side. It was a pretty awesome deal, getting to work and do the thing that I love. I sometimes worry it would end badly, mixing business with pleasure. But it ended up being the opposite. 

Frankie and I still talked, but over the years our calls became less and less frequent. Sometimes I was away on an art bid and other times he was on a mission, gone for weeks at a time. He would still check in from time to time to at least let me know he was alive. His absence left a hole in my heart though. He was my one constant through life, the person I could share anything with, my first for a lot of things. The few words we did exchange helped me to get to the next call, which I know is unhealthy, but not matter what I did, I couldn’t fill the void he left behind. 

Present Day

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” My mom asks me for the millionth time. 

I chuckle into the phone. “YES mom. You guys won a cruise! Go celebrate Christmas on the high seas. I’ll come visit when you get back.”

“Well…if you’re sure. I- no! You will absolutely NOT be wearing a speedo on the cruise! Rea I have to go talk some sense into your father. We’ll call you when we get back.”

I laugh this time. “Have fun mom.” In the background before I hang up, I hear my father playfully yell. “Hey! Give me back my man panties!”

My laugh turns into a sigh as I look around my condo. I had been packing to head to my parent’s home in the morning to spend Christmas Day and a few days after with them. I unpack and head into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of steaks to rest before cooking them. I’ll make extra and then not have to cook on Christmas. Sounds like a plan to me. I make some hot chocolate and settle on my couch, a thick Christmas themed blanket thrown over my legs. I’m about to take a sip when I hear a knock at my door. I set my mug down and toss the blanket off. My neighbor is a little senile and sometimes locks herself out of her apartment. In one of her clear moments, she gave me a spare key to let her into hers, in case it was during a time when her nurse wasn’t around. I unlock the door and open it, her name poised on my lips. But instead I’m met with the biggest, brown puppy dog eyes that I’ve ever seen. 

“Hey, Rea. You’re home.”

Shocked. I am stunned. “I..y-yeah. So are you?” Nice. Good one. 

He smile, those dimples showing off as he rubs at the back of his head, the Standard Oil Heating cap I’d given him from our road trip across the state still on top. “Yeah.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Can I come in?”

“What? Oh. Yeah! Come in.” I step back to let him in, giving him extra space for the bag slung on his back. He sets it down just inside the door, kicking off his boots too. 

“Are you ok?” I ask him, noting the scar on the bridge of his nose and a fresh cut on his cheek. 

“I am now.” Silence between us, like we haven’t talked our entire lives. Although it had been a few months since I’d spoken to him, outside of my unanswered letters. 

“Did you want some-” I start, hitching my thumb over my shoulder to point towards the kitchen. 

“I almost died.”

A hole opened in my stomach and my heart fell right into it. “What?”

He nods, taking the cap from his head to wring it between his hands, but not before running his fingers through those soft brown curls. “I can’t give you details. Classified. But I almost died. I mean, I saved us all, but if I hadn’t moved my head…”

“Oh Frankie!” I throw my arms around him, the time that we hadn’t talked dissolving in an instant. His arms wrap around me, his face pressing into my hair. 

“I love you, Rea.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

“No,” He takes a breath. “I’m in love with you.”

Those familiar butterflies that only he seems to put there come back, like they’d never left. I break the hug and take a step back, trying to look at his face. Surely he’s kidding right? This is all some joke that I don’t understand?

“We were spiraling and the engines wouldn’t cut back on and all I could think about was you. How I had this amazing friend in my life for most of my life who never judged me for where I came from or what I wore, who always supported me no matter what, who let me get pineapple on my pizza even though she hated it just because she knows I like it. She always saw me for me. And how I was so fucking stupid for never seeing it before and yet, somehow knowing I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss. I made a promise that if I got out of there alive, the first thing I’d do is come tell you, in person how I feel. And I know it’s sudden, and I know you may not even feel the same. Hell, I don’t know if you even have a boyfriend. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I-”

I grip his shirt and pull him to me, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he doesn’t move, shocked by my reply. But then he snaps out of it, his hands coming up to cup my face as he presses his tongue against my lips. I part mine every slightly, whimpering slightly when he pushes his tongue past my lips. One hand drops from my face, outstretched behind me as he walks me backwards, his hand hitting the wall before he pushes me up against it, that same hand cupping my face again before tracing down my body to squeeze at my hip. I wrap my leg around him, pulling him closer as my fingers tangle in his soft curls. But then he pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes. 

“I take it this means you feel the same?” He’s smiling, but he’s also serious. 

“I’ve been waiting for this since our first kiss. But I don’t think I understood it then.”

Frankie groans. “What a stupid couple of assholes.” We chuckle together, his nose brushing against mine. 

He smiles, his eyes getting that big puppy eye look to them. ��So you’ll be my first and my last?”

I smile back. “As long as you’re mine.”

Within a few months, we’re married. Our first, our last, and our always.

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi  

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso  

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

@ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  

@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[ifyouknowmenahyoudontt]

ranting about the fandom ( TW: opinions)

- remus is so badly mischaracterized, the shift from him being a soft sensitive kid despite the violent nature of his condition was so so important but now he is turned into this mean angry alpha male. i feel like the point of him being so sensitive was to contrast w him being a werewolf ya know. bring back weird and awkward remus

- gay ships that are just there because they’re gay is pretty strange. i’m speaking of the whole jegulus/pandalily/whatever new thing ppl come up with i don’t really understand the point of just thinking that making a couple gay makes them more interesting. seems a little counterproductive .

-jily loosing its popularity is killing me. bring back my 7 year slow burn prophecy beautiful love story they are the most important ship

-sirius being a feminine dramatic gay twink. this man was a motorcycle owning rebel strong guy. and believe it or not he CAN be gay and still be that. him being gay ( in our head canons) doesn’t mean he’s a woman

- turning gay ships into basically a straight relationship by making them so stereotypical ( wolfstar w feminine af sirius and strong man remus)

- shipping character that died and fought against a certain ideology and people that were actively apart of the problem is kinda crazy. like jegulily? my brother in christ regulus wanted her dead.

-fanon regulus. he was a strong willed DEATH EATER he wasn’t forced into it or abused by his family. it.is.stated.in.the.book.

-deatheaters are interesting characters BUT don’t tell me people are babying and glorifying them in a effort to explore their complexity.

-some of you are blinded by the fancasts and forgot all about what the characters are.

- the new fan casts are meeeh. they’re not all supposed to be supermodels…

- jegulus taking over the fandom is insane.

-andromeda should be getting the regulus treatement she is what you made regulus into.

-frank and alice should be more loved.

- the romantization of that whole pureblood supremacist squad is NOT cute.

-james potter my beloved.

- i don’t really like the idea of the casanova being remus. i feel like it would james or sirius based on how remus talked about his high school years

- jily is way too important to the universe to be discredited.

-lily evans being put behind regulus is CRAZY. my girl did not die for this bs

-sirius being criticized for leaving is wild. regulus was not abused and didn’t even want to leave. sirius was mistreated.

- i kind of like the idea of the developed character of walburga. sirius said she wasn’t a deatheater. and i like people writing her as a more complex character.

- as much as i love wolfstar, james and sirius’s relationship stays the central point of the gang.

-ships have taken way too much importance over the friendships of the group.

-i feel like a people make female characters into lesbians ( like lily ) just because they are strong characters and it’s weird.

- yes once she got married to james she was lily POTTER and she was a mother just like james was FATHER they’re is nothing wrong with that.

- jegulus/ any ship between a member of the order and a deatheater is just plain stupid sorry but if your head canons goes completely against the core of a character it’s just a wrong statement.

before you start “LEt pEoPle dO whAT thEy WaNt” these are MY opinions

please share yours i love to debate

[cheesiedomino]

Reasons ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: though he’s afraid to admit it, chan has an undeniably huge crush on you. in attempt to get his point somewhat across, he drops a few hints leading all the way up until the Valentine’s Day office party, but will that mean he finally confesses his true feelings?

genre: bang chan x fem!reader | coworkers to lovers wc: 3.1k tags/warnings: fluff, office romance, mild cursing, mentions of alcohol usage, kissing, reader is kinda obsessed w/ chan’s body but who tf isn’t ??

now playing 🎧: dream girl by crisaunt

[this is the first installment of my new valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding the themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

If there’s one thing Chan could never refuse to resist no matter how hard he tries, it’s you — nothing else came near as close. You were his Kryptonite, Achille’s heel, whatever you want to call it. Chan was willing to do just about anything for you, ask him to jump and he’ll promptly answer “how high?” You had him wrapped around your little finger with a pristine, glittery bow. Some could say it was quite uncanny how he’d avidly jump at your every need and request. Whether it be from a small but adoring comment about the way you looked in your outfits or whenever he sees you struggling with something, he drops any amount of work he was doing to go help you instead. There’s no way he was doing all this just out of the kindness of his heart, everyone saw right through those tactics. Clearly there was an underlying ulterior motive in the back of his mind, and most people with a brain knew of this as fact not fiction.

Everyone that is, except you.

The minute someone brings Chan’s name up you get super defensive. You often feel the need to because of how almost every person in the office ships you two together. One of the main instigators— Mirae, your cubicle neighbor and karaoke buddy, had a habit of doing this constantly. She’s the first ever friend you made here and is a total ray of sunshine to work with, but also has the biggest mouth. She’d go around telling people that Chan has a crush on you all because he does so many selfless gestures to “impress” you. Once that got around , rumors began spreading like wildfire and suddenly it turned into you and Chan were dating.

As soon as you heard all of that you immediately shut the suspicions down, explaining that you two were simply just friends and how he’s a sweet, gentle soul. Which he most certainly is but his friendliness didn’t only stop at you, it extended to all the other employees as well. He’s the type of person who would make sure everyone else has food and a warm shelter before worrying about himself in the freezing cold. There aren’t many out there with a noble personality like Chan’s, he’s like an elderly man trapped in a young person’s body, always giving the most wise and stark advice. His way of thinking may be a little old fashioned but that didn’t make him boring by any means, he was quite fun when he wasn’t so immersed in his work.

You’ve tried to get him to let loose a bit more, even invited him out for drinks after work with your other coworkers but he declined each time. It never felt like rejection to you though, he’d be smiling the whole time he’s saying “no” but it didn’t seem disingenuous. The only reason he never took up any of your offers were either one of 3 things:

A). He’s far too nervous to get drinks with you

B). He’s too buried in his work

C). The gym is his second home

You and Chan are two vastly different people. He’s definitely the more laidback type who likes to stay at home while you love to going out and enjoy a fun night on the town with friends. Despite him knowing this, he’s never been one to judge your choices or care about what you decide to do outside of work. He even brings you hangover medicine when you come back on Monday looking like you’ve had way too many last weekend — a literal angel in human form. You wonder who the lucky lady will be that gets to marry him someday, it’s evident he’ll be a family man and would most certainly be the best dad any child could ask for. He truly possessed every lovely quality there is all in one person, a rarity that’s more hard to come by each passing day. You don’t know what you could’ve done in your past life to deserve to know someone like Chan, but you don’t regret it one bit.

This morning went like any other typical morning, you’d come to work slightly exhausted from being out later than expected. Usually, Chan would go up to your cubicle and flash a doting smile at you as he places a fresh cup of coffee on your desk. It’s always the little things that made you most content, a handsome guy delivering you your favorite cappuccino — sounds like the ideal life. However, things were slightly different on this particular morning.

Awaiting you at your desk was a large bouquet of flowers displayed in a decorative ceramic vase, accompanied by your warm beverage. You also notice something peeking out from the petals, a small white envelope without a name on it. Curiosity gets the best of you, rushing to open it and read what follows:

‘happy Valentine’s Day ___, these flowers will never be as gorgeous as you but I hope they bring you joy or at least make you half as happy as you make me everyday that I’m with you.

- CB.’

Well, you definitely weren’t expecting that note to be so… sweet ? Though it was a bit short, the message was clear, whoever wrote that really wants you to know exactly how they feel. You had to admit, reading that did make your heart skip a little— maybe even had you blushing and twirling a couple strands of hair. What caught you most off guard were the initials, ‘CB’, those letters seemed awfully familiar. Then you realize there’s only one person whose initials you personally knew that could match those; your coworker Chan. Your throat goes dry as you nervously attempt to swallow, unable to form any stable or coherent thoughts. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, could’ve prepared you for this kind of revelation.

Scoping out the area to see if Chan was around, you couldn’t seem to find him anywhere. You consider the idea of texting him but ultimately you decide not to as you think it’d be weird to assume he even did this. They’re just similar initials that’s it, you’re probably reading too much into it. Maybe you really are going crazy or something.

“Oh my god, someone sent you those?!” A chirpy voice startles you, instantly recognizing it as Mirae who’s now behind you.

“Uh, yeah I guess so..” you acknowledge nonchalantly. Parting your lips just a tad as you take a sip of delicious espresso.

“Ah. I wonder who could’ve done it?” She fake pauses to take a gander at the possibilities, “It’s definitely not the guy with the Aussie accent and name rhymes with Pan!”

You almost spit out your drink. “Shut up!”

“Oh you know I’ll never do that sweetie.” She giggles at you being all flustered, “plus I’m right you just don’t wanna admit it.”

This is like an everyday conversation you have with her, it’s nothing new. “No, I’m a logical person and I know that me and Chan are just friends. That’s all we’ll ever be and nothing more!”

It’s exhausting having to keep defending yourself from the same rhetoric all your coworkers spew daily, and even more ridiculous how fast word gets out around here. Those rumors of you and Chan dating are still being told today, even after it’s been a good year and a half since it all started.

“Friends can also develop feelings for each other overtime y’know?” Mirae lazily rests her arm on your desk as she continues her speech, “I mean I’ve never fallen for a friend so I wouldn’t know.. but this is different! Do you not pay any attention at all to the way he treats you? He’s such a simp for you it drives me insane.”

Confused more than ever, you blankly stare back at her, “huh?” You just took every favor Chan has done as being a nice, thoughtful coworker.

“Okay I’ll give you an example, remember when everyone at lunch had that whole ‘Vernon is gay or bi debate’ and Chan agreed with every single thing you said even if it didn’t make sense? If that doesn’t scream simp behavior then I don’t know what does!”

Your doubt still doesn’t waver, “I just have a very compelling way of getting people to side with me!”

Mirae rolls her eyes so hard they could go to the back of her skull. “For the love of God ___, stop acting so dense at the obvious. It’s pretty much known in this entire office that Chan’s always been totally, 100% into you.”

“It is?” You blink rapidly.

“Yes! I can’t believe you’re even still shocked about this, the guy’s constantly making cartoon heart eyes whenever he sees you!” She states, voice laced with a dash of envy as she pouts, “I wish I had someone who looked at me like that.”

Her sadness is short lived when her face animates again, as if a light bulb just went off in her brain. “Wait I have the perfect idea, you should get him to ask you out at the Valentine’s party!”

“Um.. I don’t think he’ll go, he’s not a party kinda guy remember?” You sigh in reluctance, unsure of what to think at this point.

That doesn’t seem to bring Mirae’s mood down, she only reassures you with more positivity. “Trust me, he’ll be changing a completely different tune once he finds out you’re going.”

Work events are always somewhat a bit of a drag. You didn’t particularly care for them, but you do like socializing with most of your coworkers and other fellow staff on the team. The free alcohol is also another great selling point for you to go. Gina makes the best Jell-O shots and whenever there’s a work function going on she goes all out to prepare them. This time she made some strawberry daiquiri flavored ones, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and pink heart sprinkles to fit the theme.

You grabbed one immediately from the table, looking everywhere to see if you can spot Chan but still no luck. The fact this is making you slightly upset is beyond you, but you’ve never been one to fully understand your emotions. Maybe you were right after all for thinking he wouldn’t show up. Sometimes Mirae can try a bit too hard at getting your hopes up, but you had to figure out if he was the one who actually sent the flowers or not. ‘Who the fuck else could be CB?’ You thought, it had to be him, if not you’ll be blaming Mirae for years of mental damage and distress.

This job wasn’t the first thing you had in mind by any means, but it seemed like a friendly and open work environment when you came in for an interview. You ran into Chan that same day and he started talking to you in the lobby as you waited for your turn. He had the most illuminating, pearly white smile and his accent made the most mundane words sound a thousand times hotter. You secretly hoped you’d get this job just so you can talk to Chan all day. Fast forward to almost a year and a half later you’re now closer than ever and it feels like a privilege to work with someone as amazing as him.

As you finish your Jell-O shot, you try finding the nearest trash can but end up bumping into Gina. “Hey ___! Did you like the strawberry daiquiris I made?” She kindly surveys for feedback, flashing a cute puppy dog look at you.

“Duh, of course! I love everything you make Gigi, I might have to grab another one before they’re all gone!” You praise her kindly, “by the way have you seen Chan at all?” It was a bit a random of you to ask but you couldn’t just stand around and wait for him to magically show up.

Gina thinks for a moment and finally replies, “Nah I haven’t! Why’d you ask though?”

“Oh no reason really! Was just wondering I guess-” you awkwardly shrug off, taking a step back as you walk out the break room to go into the main hallway. Heading over to the water dispenser you grab a small paper cup and bring it under the cold water option, before pressing the button a deep voice causes you to freeze in place. Recognizing that raspy voice from anywhere, it was Chan calling out after you.

“Hey, ___!” You hear him shout from a distance, jogging towards you with an ambiguous look on his face. “Could I talk to you for a moment?” He asks once he gets closer, chest slowly rising up through his white collared shirt as he’s catching his breath.

You never really took note how chiseled his body looked, maybe it was the form-fitting material of the shirt but the outline of his pecs went perfectly in sync with the way his toned arms clung to the fabric. It was clear as day Chan takes working out very seriously, mesmerized by the sheer dedication it must’ve took to even achieve a dreamlike physique such as this. Realizing you still haven’t answered yet and have just been staring at this man’s chest for what seemed like centuries, you finally croak out a response.

“Uh, yeah- sure!”

He clears his throat in preparation, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.. for a while now actually.”

Chan doesn’t seem like his usual keen self, he’s acting much more quiet and reserved, as if he’s got loads of worries on his mind. It makes you wonder…

Your heart began to race at a faster pace, not knowing what the outcome will be, you indulge in him anyway. “Hm? What is it? Don’t just leave me hanging, spill!”

Again he goes quiet, like there’s a force holding him back from saying what he truly wants. He’s usually a lot more confident and well spoken when he talks to you but this was a new side of Chan you haven’t seen before. You find it a bit endearing to be honest, it makes him more down to earth. What’s there not to like about him truthfully?

“Well uh.. you see I-”

“___! Where the heck were you we’re about to take another sho-” Mirae catches you two of you off guard, unknowingly walking in what seemed like a deep conversation. “Ohh, oopsies did I interrupt something? I didn’t mean to, s-sorry!” You noticed some of her words slurring a bit and couldn’t contain a tiny giggle, it didn’t take much alcohol for her to get tipsy.

The minute she’s gone and the two of you are alone once again, the energy shifts dramatically. You gaze up at Chan to see his brows slanted into a train of thought. He wasn’t saying anything, just staring right back at you with a cryptic look. Unable to gauge the direction of this situation, you think of what to possibly say to make it less cumbersome. Before you could utter a single word, he finally speaks up.

“Let’s get outta here,” He quickly suggests, yanking your hand as he roughly takes it in his palm to lead the way. His movements are swift and eager, knowing exactly where he’s going as you’re left with even more questions and zero answers.

“Where’re we going?” You sheepishly inquire, bewildered by his sudden unpredictable action.

He doesn’t answer you. Instead he’s continuing the journey, remaining in focus all the way until he reaches the back entrance. Opening the door in a hurry to make it outside, a rush of cool air hits the back of your skin from a tiny bit of flesh being exposed. Chan brings his hands up to your arms, pinning them to your sides as he pushes you back against the brick wall of the building. His hooded eyes were fixated on you like an animal looking at its prey. It almost felt intimidating, as if he was the whole universe and you were but a mere spectacle compared to him.

“Wait what’re you do-” you’re impatiently cut off as he leans in, pupils widening when you’re abruptly met with a pair of lips pressed against your own. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, rendered still from the shock of this suddenly happening. An array of goosebumps scatter your suspended body, words can’t describe the way you feel in this moment— it’s pure bliss.

Eventually you do kiss him back once the shock wears off, parting your lips more to let him gain further access into your world. It was the most mind numbingly passionate, messy kiss you’ve ever experienced in a lifetime, wanting but Chan’s lips on yours forever and ever.

As you both pull away it’s quiet again, but not in an unpleasant manner as before. Now you’re silent because you’re admiring each other. Resisting the urge to grab his face and kiss him again, you watch intently at him biting on his bottom lip, giving you a sheer look of adoration and hunger. Your mind was in the highest state of euphoria, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. That kiss left you speechless, breathless, weightless, and all other adjectives in between.

“I can sit here and list off every reason why I’m in love with you, but I thought about it and figured this should be good enough to get my point across.” Chan suddenly expresses his true feelings while holding your hand tightly in his grasp. It feels like he can breathe again, as if a heavy weights been lifted off his broad shoulders. “Did you like the flowers I sent?”

You owe Mirae a huge apology the next time you see her.

“So it was you?!” A gasp escapes your lips, finally comprehending the fact that he’s genuinely liked you for this long. It still felt surreal to you that you even kissed.

“You didn’t realize it right away? I mean my initials were right there..” he nervously spoke once more. The effect you have on him is so dangerously good.

It’s hard to believe you were so oblivious to how Chan felt when it was all hidden in plain sight. You should’ve known something was up when he started learning how to cook the first week you met. During lunch you expressed that men who could cook were the ideal type of husband and since then he’s been on a mission to perfect his cooking and make you a proud wife someday.

Moral of the story? Life works in mysterious ways when finding your soulmate. The external forces come together to align themselves perfectly in harmony, bringing two beautiful souls to connect as one.

[End <3].

[keijimilk]

Kiss it Off

toji smut featuring. . .

NSFW! 18+ -> makeup s*x, squi*ing, overst*mulation, piv s*x, very soft dom toji, oral, etc.

- intended lowercase because i work on fics on my phone and switch between that and a laptop. keeping it lowercase helps me in terms of writing tysm!

- word count 1k+

laughter and bustle filled the air of the lavish galleria event. a watercolor sunset casted a midnight purple with faint traces of orange across the horizon. emerald eyes cannot help but stare at you- your flared sleeve, burgundy dress that reaches the tops of your knees, a slit that teases a glimpse of thighs, and has a deep dip that exposes the plush of your cleavage. but you’re ‘modest…’ and you have a sheer wrap that makes him have ideas he’d love to explore with you in the restroom. you wear black heels to match the tint of his hair…he loves how you look in them.

especially on this special occasion - a luxurious after party for the successful deal of Aven Corp., owned by toji fushiguro- a multi millionaire that stakes his claim in multiple "investments" that dominate the coast.

now, toji partook in the talking and drinking flutes of champagne and other fancy liquor with some of his more prestigious partners, their plus ones and invited guest.

among the bustle of the evening you come to find that with the glamour, he seems to be unaware that he’s "naturally" flirtatious and becoming quite familiar with the other women around the large polished table- and bar. you’ve been on his arm all night, but it no wonder they’re magnetized to him. and with his charisma, he’s entertaining them.

while you should feel at ease - like his drunken colleagues - he’s a player. always has been and becomes more apparent when he’s tipsy and at the top of the world…but could you blame him?

he’s been stressing through the last few months and finally the business deal pulled through. you want him to relax and let loose, though your heart drops at the disrespect you feel is happening.

you pout at the audacity…toji can be a cocky man. he’s humble by nature but is greedy, and wants all that he can possibly get.

his ego isn’t going to ruin your night with him, a hot shower at the flat sounds better than staying for this event and the after party…

you stubbly touch along the taught muscle of his thigh underneath his burgundy dress pants, wanting his attention. mystic green eyes glance at you with a raised brow. wondering why you would tease while he is attentively talking with colleagues. he puts his hand up to tell them ‘a moment’ and turns to you.

“yes doll?” he directs the swivel of the exhale of heavy cigar smoke away from your face. you almost roll your eyes at his blatant ignorance of the way he’s acting.

“i-“ your plead to leave was interrupted by a woman with hazel eyes, filled with lust, and the intent to talk to your man.

“i cannot believe aven corp. has expanded, it’s so big, as your partner, I’ve been thinking we should plan the future of our companies,” she flashes her million-dollar 'camera' smile and completely ignores your presence.

“oh most definitely, Sae. such a smart woman,” he chuckles with a wink and she blushes as toji passionately and professionally continues, “our projections foresee the next stages of our…” you’re so pissed off to the point where you phase out whatever 'business talk' they were speaking about, as this was the last time that you allowed him to hurt you like this tonight.

the sound of toji calling your name brought you out of your mood for a moment.

“what did you need hm?” he gently speaks to you and brings his arm around your waist.

pulling away from him faster than you meant to, you blurt to him, “i’m going to the restroom.” gold twinkled from the chandelier into your eyes and reflected the sullen, suffocating look you gave him. toji’s gut was telling him something was off as he watched your silhouette until he could no longer see you along the ocean of people.

he shrugs, knowing you’d be back. so he waits.

and he waits…

and waits...

every time he tries to make conversation with the nobodies at his table, your face flashed in his eyes- he hated seeing you looking at him the way you did.

though after more than several intolerable minutes without your return and the inkling of you being in discomfort, toji had to come find you.

swiftly, he excuses himself from the table.

through the futuristic corridors that were dark as midnight and had golden specks that resembled stars twinkling. long strides head towards a tucked away women’s restroom on the far east wing near a valet exit, he hopes this was one you chose.

as soon as he was going to pop his head into the restroom to call for you, your beautiful meek figure emerged from the heavy door. he notices the way your hands tightly clench onto your slim chic clutch bag.

he hesitates before speaking, feeling waves of passive anger roll off you. your energy is off putting- toji never misses anything.

"...you were gone for a while angel, you okay?" he decides to tread carefully. as much as you want to scoff at him, walk away and find a ride home like you decided in the bathroom, the sharp venom toji had placed in your heart at his actions, beseech you to seethe out.

"i'm m'kay, are you okay?" being sarcastic, you bat your eyes and speak coquettishly- observing his brows crinkle in confusion and his pouty lips open to question you.

"...of course why wouldn't i be?"

"oh my! i thought by the way you've been shamelessly eyefucking those consorts and fueling their fantasies that you had to have bumped your fucking head!" your voice rises above a harsh whisper, although it did not matter- partygoers we're nowhere to be seen.

it's always been hard to tell how toji's feeling, as he never fails to hide the mix of emotions on his face. but now, confusion and anger have overtaken his features. a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes examine you then it quickly turns into a incredulous humourless laugh.

"babe, you cannot be serious," he reaches to grab your arm but you snatch it away from his grasp with the look of a wounded fawn.

"you have to be blind not to notice toji, i'm done. i'm going home while you entertain yourself." you immediately stepped to leave, definitively deciding to grab a cab. strong hands grab your upper arms to stop you. gasping, toji pushes you against the wall. he's staring down at you in a way you've never seen before. it's cold, icy, and he looked hurt- he tries to hide it but you can tell in the crinkle of his eyes. he paused and you froze.

"...angel, don't leave. i wasn't-" toji wavers.

"y-you were." you meekly state, he begins to loosen his grip but doesn't let you go.

"...i want to go home. let me go toji-" mystic green eyes sharpen as he presses his strong body against you. he's contemplating. the silence is deafening and his grip has yet to cease.

you're his.

"no." he gruffs out.

"no?" you parrot in disbelief, with a pout toji cannot help but want to taste. so he does.

you squeak as toji kisses into you mouth slowly waiting for you to kiss him back.

he felt so good...so warm...his body completely flush against yours, so much so you melt. you accept his kiss and taste the blend of his favorite on his tongue. toji lets go of your arms in favor of caressing you with his large palms, over the smooth skin of your thighs, to reveal more of you by hiking up the silky red dress. his fingers ghost across the flimsy material of your cute lace panties- toji has been wishing he could move out the way all night. toji pauses when you whine and push on his chest.

its you remembering how he made you feel earlier, every overly flirtatious act created a painful pang in your heart so much so that it overruled your lust for him in this moment.

he was trying to distract you.

"n-no toji, i wanna go home." you whisper against his lips. you bite on your lip and stare at his confused expression and it breaks your heart even more.

you push him off, which you knew he allowed you to do, finally understanding you were upset.

he calls after you but you don't turn around.

toji stalks you to make sure you get into a cab by the valet exit and rubs a palm across his face. he feels a strange feeling in his heart that this argument wasn't unprecedented. he would never compromise your trust in him, but upon your reaction he does began to...recall earlier actions he could've withheld. but he cannot help it. he doesn't mean to, but if it helps strengthen a relationship with his business partner that benefits him, which ultimately benefits you! so he cannot believe his baby is acting like this. but the more he thinks about how sullen you looked earlier maybe he took it too far...

-

you're in the shower when you burst into tears.

he's such an entitled asshole who thinks that he can just flirt with other women like that, and in front of you! you're driven to your thoughts under the hot water.

both of you have been together for 4 years and yet toji never really engaged with women to where you thought he was flirting. at first, the way he allowed the them to bat their eyelashes at him bothered you. though then, he wasn't acting borderline promiscuous. he was reserved.

when you brought it up to him he blinked a few times and waved you off, claiming he wasn't flirting, he's 'pushing a deal'. toji held your cheeks in his hands and whispered that he 'only loves you'.

of course he's charismatic and you love that about him. but whether it was the whiskey in in blood or the huge boost in ego at his latest conquest, he still shouldn't wink and flirt with other women.

throughout Bali, Cape Town, Los Angeles- you turned an eye to how he carried himself at after parties. though tonite was the first time he’d eye them so brazenly. how could he do this in your presence- to your face?

does he think that he’s absolved from your wrathful heart!...

no- you pause as the hot steam cleanses away the resentment. you cannot lash out at your love, and you’re too tired to formulate the emotions that arise when you dwell on it.

with a final soak, you decide to see what his next moves are. as that’s all of you left to offer.

you shut off the water and did your nightly self-care routine to at least pamper yourself at the turn of the nights events.

you opt to wear a ice colored gown inserts of your usual choice of toji’s tees-his scent right now would overwhelm you.

moisturizing, you dim the hanging lights above the large california king bed, and snuggle into the covers and that’s when you realize, you cannot escape him- his musk permeates in the sheets.

…

the sound of the front door closing resonates throughout the condo waking you from your slumber. you found it hard to sleep without his warmth and as a result, slept lightly. glancing at the alexa on he nightstand, you read, '2:20 a.m'. quickly, you sink deeper into your espresso bean coloured duvet, eyes threatening to water again. its been 3 hours since you've left the gala.

"doll...?" he whispers guiltily, and you subconsciously melt at his voice. you don't contemplate answering him fearing that your voice would break.

the sounds of his movements are almost noiseless to your ears, but they draw nearer.

he flips on the soft lights above the bed on, piercing eyes inspect your form.

"i'm sorry m'kay?" he apologizes sincerely, "i was being an shitty boyfriend, shitty partner- i don't care about them. i never flirt with the intent to be with them i-it just comes out. shit," he says your name and you hear the crack in his voice, "i'm really sorry. i could barely stay after you left, i had to finish the speech...and i left right after."

toji doesn't expect you to respond and thinks you are actually asleep. he smacks his lips and curses himself for ignoring you tonight when you obviously needed him, when you accompanied him to all of the insufferable gala's and parties, it was more than he could ever dream of- sharing his life and pleasures with you.

partially underneath the covers, you're gnawing at the plush bottom of your lip, biting back the weakness in your heart.

he still flirted with them...and his apology was heartfelt...but toji is a hardheaded, stubborn man.

he does what he wants, repairs the damages, and dismays your qualms.

you hear him shuffle away, opening the doors of the dresser until they descend towards the master bathroom.

'click'

hearing the bathroom door shut and hear the shower running, you frown. the anger you feel has worn off and been replaced with resentment for his actions. he crossed a line tonight. has he done this at the international gala's he attended without you?

the thought unsettles you enough to bring a few tears back to your puffy eyes, and you're struggling to breathe again…

you hope that whenever toji comes back he won't notice your sniffles. a unfamiliar feeling lurks now, the thought of him wrapping you in his arms as he attempts to console you makes you feel dreadful as its the same arms he probably envelops other women with...

you tuck yourself under the duvet and attempt to push thoughts of him to the back of your mind.

...or at least you try to. you didn't realize the shower turned off moments ago.

then, the covers are pulled off your warm body, although it was careful, you turn to meet moss colored orbs that gaze at you so intently.

"I knew you were awake... babe - "

ugh! he's unbelievable. you burst from the heavy blanket, attempting to dart out of the room before he tries to explain.

before you can even reach the doorframe he has his grip on your arms,

"fuck off toji. i am not talking right now." you nearly yell, "i’m tired - please... i don't want to deal with this again…with your habits. i want to rest. we can talk in the morning."

"no, i need you to know that-" he pauses because he's still having to hold your struggling form still, "i never meant to hurt you."

"but you did, you did..." you yell with tears welting in your eyes. toji's heart wrenches at the sight.

"i did hurt you, i know baby. i am so sorry. i never realized how...my tactics are inappropriate." he confesses and hugs you tenderly. large burly damp arms envelope your weeping, smaller frame.

he's licking your every wound- repeating that he's sorry, that he won't hurt you like that ever again. he rubs your back and waits for you to calm down before asking you if he could carry you back to the bed, to which you nodded.

your tummy jumps at how easily he lifts you, instinctively holding onto his button down, arm around his neck.

*poof*

he plops you on the soft duvet and hovers above you.

"i love you..." scarred lips lay a kiss on your forehead, trailing to your cheeks, another to your left ear, then the right. "...so much." his lips slowly descend to your soft, quivering pout. his gentle pecks test your waters.

he pauses for a moment and you whisper, "...do you really?" he senses your vulnerability and molds his half clothed body into yours, his warmth radiating and melding with yours. you're avoiding his gaze and your hands are lightly place on his chest, guarded.

he's hurt that you're questioning his feelings for you, but he knows he has to make up for it- having betrayed your trust.

"i will always love you. 'though i fucked up tonight...and other times." he lowers his voice, "i will prove it to you baby, can I apologize for my behavior?" his voice is soft and consuming.

"...are you drunk saying this?" you narrow your eyes, wanting to trust what he's saying.

"no baby, i'm not. i am never going to do this again." and for a long moment he stares into your eyes, forest green irises reflect shame and regret.

"...promise?" you hold out your pinky to which he immediately wraps his around it.

"promise." he firmly says, and toji's letting out a breath he did not know he was holding.

toji's strong hands gingerly grasp your hands and slowly moves them to his shoulders, calculating your feelings.

now, he notices your eyes and posture softening. toji takes this as an invitation to show you just how sorry he is.

you grip his shoulders as he starts kissing down you neck, soft tongue licking then nipping gently at the tender skin. sucking to leave beautiful warm behind each bite.

you sigh as he massages the curve of your hips as he comes up to leave another bite. rugged hands trace the edge of your gown, lifting it above your head. he loves the fact you have the cutest panties on, only because when he goes to remove them, he's able to rip it to shreads, earning a gasp from you.

giggling you chime, "you're such a brute."

"it's blocking me from this pretty pussy," he slides the tattered fabric off, "it's got to go, doll."

with a shuddering breath, you let toji caress your fluffy breasts as he engages in a sloppy smooch. letting his warm, tongue dominate you completely. softly, you moan into the intense kiss as he pinches and pulls your perky nipples.

"toji, i need..." you whine as you feel the increasing wetness dampening your upper thighs from his grip on your breasts.

"yes doll? you need me here?" he pauses his maddening flurry of kisses to swipe his fingers along your slick, rubbing your clit a few times just to hear the saccharine whimpers that escape from the stimulation. he taps firmly on your bud with force, and it leave your legs trembling.

"mhm yes, yes- there toji." and as soon as the whisper leaves your lips, he lowers his body to be flush against the bed, opening your gorgeous legs wider.

the softness of his lips as he kisses all up your thighs is comforting, and you shiver as he licks closer and closer to your flower.

a breathy sigh emits from your chest once he finally plants the fattest glob of spit on your cunt, and slurps everything up.

flicks and long, long strides of his tongue massage your puckered clit slowly drawing the most delectable sounds from your throat. the firm grip on your thighs tether you to him.

toji thinks the way you sound akin to a bird singing. as you sink your fingers into his hair from his sucking on the nub, the pitch of your voice heightens and increases. toji groans into your warmth as you pull on his noir locks.

his tongue dips down further in the honey that oozes, your breath shakes which each dip and drawn out flick.

" -aah, i'm super close t-toji." you whine as he fickers faster at your throbbing nub, humming into you.

he finds your sensitivity so endearing, his left hand extending to reach your breast, has you teetering closer to the edge.

"ooh, toji, toji, toji..." you chant and feel the white lightning throughout your spine and the warm numb overcome your being.

he retreats to holding your trembling form down so he can get each movement of his mouth to be consistent and to caress you just right.

your subtle gasps and moans have toji leaking copious amount of pre. staining his grey sweats. toji wipes the lower half of his face with his palm, licking the skin right after.

your fluttering gaze has the gruff man lowering his pants and stroking his shaft as he hovers over you again.

"can i continue princess?" he pauses and watches your dreamy gaze softening.

"please continue..." you breathe. not a moment wastes as he leans in for another filthy kiss, pushing your legs apart again to wrap around his waist.

toji breaks your feverent movement of love, " 'm so sorry for earlier doll...i never meant to hurt you."

to which you reply with a coquettish smile, " 'tis okay, toji, i forgive you."

he smiles pleasantly and rubs your sides, " 'm so fucking cute." toji shudders as he begins to rub the tip of his dick along your sensitive bud. pre weeping profusely from the strawberry colored slit. you sigh with each swipe, rubbing his cock all along your wetness.

then he slips an inch inside of the warm, fluffy tightness. groaning hoarsely, he moves up to cage you in. sliding in inch by inch, muttering a sting of curses from how you were delectably scratching his toned back, he breathes into the juncture of your neck.

"fuck t-toji..." you moan with a shiver.

"i know b-baby quite the...the stretch. 'm gonna make ya feel good doll. just - fuck- relax..." he pulls back to watch you go limp with a couple gentle thrusts. he's splitting you open and you gush around his length.

"you...y-you -ah, ah- always do." you whimper as he's already hitting that spot with the sheer girth and delicious length.

he then starts the deepen his hips, and hammer into harder, increasing his pace slightly. toji growls and puffs out hair, trying to hold out, but god, you're so fucking soft and warm around him, wringing and milking his dick.

"toji, toji! right t-there..." you shakily stutter out, gripping onto his biceps, then reaching around his neck. sweat drips from his forehead and chest as he pounds heavily into the sopping mess between you.

"fuck, so perfect. you're made 'f me huh? t-taking me so well like 'ta angel 'ya are..." he punctuated the last few wards with power thrusts, then pauses. it feels like the coil within is about th burst as you feel all of him at once. full to the brim.

" 'ha, 'mm gonna cum toji. fuck, fuck..." you whine as his dick kisses your cervix with his grinding thrusts.

"fuckin' make a mess on me, let it go." he urges and feverently pulls at and caresses your breast. and on cue, his deep timbre has you gushing and squirting all over his cock and abdomen.

the force almost pushes his shaft out but he was grinding you through the last few waves of your orgasm.

swiftly, he brings your legs to his shoulders, "i know you got one more in 'ya angel..."

you moan at the stretch in your legs- "mhm toji!" all you can think about is him, feeling him plug you full and it feels so safe.

he's fucking into you recklessly now, overstimulating himself as well. his fingers come ro dance on your clit, rubbing fast circles. you're pawing at his back, chest, and tugging on his hair at each swipe and thick movement of his dick filling you up.

"t-thats it! that's it, baby." he coos and groans at the sight of your eyes fluttering and agape pout.

the rush of the orgasm comes quick, and you squirt again, whole body warming and trembling as he pounds into you over and over. toji cannot hold back this time and cums right after with stuttering hips. ropes of succulent essence flood your sweet cavern, oozing around his cock as he slowly comes to a halt.

you both moan in unison as he stills, still plugging everything in snug.

"so...how...how was that apology?" toji ponders in the comfortable afterglow. a cheeky smile crosses his features.

you snort and giggle, then moan as he shifts slightly, "s-shuddup ol' man."

[foreverromanticising]

something, somehow, someday

1.9k words of idiots in love

lando norris x f!reader

(this is kind of rllly bad bc i need to get back into fanfic writing - im a veteran but its been a while! requests open pls send whatever!)

Friday nights always followed the same routine for Lando, he was playing chaueffer. Well, the Friday nights he had off from being Lando Norris Formula 1 Driver. More often than not, he found himself driving around Monaco, playing pick up from different bars with his girl and her friends. 

Calling her ‘his girl’ was loosely strung, she wasn’t his girlfriend by any means, but simply calling her a friend seemed unjust. It didn’t pay any justice to their connection; best friends also seemed far too juvenile for they never knew each other in their childhood years, when the term best friend perhaps would’ve suited them. 

No, they met much later in their lives, Lando’s second or third season in Formula 1, and she just happened to know a friend of a friend, which ended in the two at the same party at the same time. Typical and cliche, they knew it, but they both preferred having an organic story to tell of their meeting rather than having to admit their connection was found on some online algorithm. 

However, it wasn’t that many people asked for their meeting story as they were just friends, plain and simple - asking two friends how they met didn’t hold the same importance as it did for asking a couple. 

Yes, they were friends, if their relationship had to be labelled but in a sweet and sticky sense of friendship. They weren’t friends in the way Max and Lando were friends; a relationship consisting of streaming, gaming, and very platonic activities that would be expected of two friends. Their friendship was abnormal to outsiders but it made perfect sense for them, and why should they listen to anyone else’s opinions?

Lando never found himself waking up with any of his other friends head’s on his bare chest, but with his girl it made perfect sense. The Monaco sun peering through the windows, illuminating highlights within her hair against his tan chest, his arm tightly wound around her waist, and both of their bodies pressed into one side of the bed, despite its huge size. 

This was their normal; they had drawn an invisible line between their friendship and something more, they never dared to cross it but the line definitely grew to become blurrier as time went on.

Hence why, Lando continually found himself in a parked car outside of whatever bar or club she chose to spend her Friday night. He claims he would do this for any friend that would ask him to, he cared about how his friends would make it home, but she had never once asked to be picked up, rather he always offered.

On the outside, Lando made it clear he cared about her making it home safely, there was no reason for her to pay for a taxi when he was happy and available to take her home - a firm believer his driving was far safer than any taxi driver. But, there was a miniscule part inside his beating heart that knew it was more than just her safety. He liked picking her up because it meant she would go home with him.

Him and no one else.

“You’re sure your friends don’t need a lift too?” Lando waited to pull away from the bar until he had a definite answer; just because he was picking up his girl didn’t mean he was going to leave her friends stranded - his offers always extended to whoever she was out with. “You know I’d rather take them than a taxi.”

“I know, Lan, but Alex’s boyfriend’s on his way anyway,” Your lifted your head off of his car window to look over at Lando, sincerity laced within your words. “They’re all gonna stay at her place, it’s just easier.”

“Do you want me to drop you at Alex’s?” He hadn’t known the night out was extending into a girls night, feeling almost guilty for wanting you in his bed, his arms, rather than with your own friends. “You wanna spend the night there?”

“No,’ You let the word drag out, trying to bite back the grin that was threatening to spill over your lips. Unbeknownst to Lando, you wanted to end the night in his arms just as much as he did. “I’m tired and I think I’m done socialising for tonight.”

“Oh, okay. Just back to yours, then?” He had to actively keep his face from allowing a frown to take over after hearing your wish to no longer socialise, he had only assumed this Friday night would be the same as all the others but it appeared you had other plans.

“I mean, it’s kinda out of the way now, isn’t it?” You looked at the street whipping by you, trying to feign nonchalance over the thought of heading back to Lando’s. “Your place is probably easier.”

“Thought you didn’t want to socialise with anyone else tonight.” Lando was also trying to act nonchalant, like he didn’t care, like he hadn’t thought about this Friday night tradition ever since you had woken up in his arms last Saturday morning.

“Yeah but you don’t count.” A smile tugged at your lips as your social battery for others may have been used up, you didn’t think it could ever run out when it came to Lando. You didn’t have to play pretend, or use up much energy around him, if anything he rechargred your batteries. A night with him was exactly what you needed.

He knew exactly what you meant. You two didn’t have to even speak when you were around each other. Comfortable silence was enough to maintain your friendship.

Once Lando had parked his car, you made your way to his apartment, in that comfortable silence you had been craving. This silence followed both of you in the elevator, as he unlocked his front door, as you made your way to your respective drawer in his bedroom to find something to wear to bed, until he found you brushing your teeth and chose to join you. 

It was an image of domesticity; an old quadrant shirt of his draped over your body paired alongside a pair of his basketball shorts, your skincare lining his bathroom counter, your bodies pressed against one another - shoulder to shoulder, just as your pink and blue toothbrushes stood in their holder beside the sink. 

“What’s your plans for tomorrow?” Lando spoke through a mouthful of toothpaste, as thought his question couldn’t wait the two minutes. You poked your elbow into his ribs to shut him up until you had finished brushing your teeth.

“Not sure yet, the girls wanna go for brunch but nothing’s set in stone yet,” You looked at him through his bathroom mirror. “Why? What’re you scheming?”

“Just wondering,” He shrugged his shoulders then turned on his heel, making his way to his bedroom - prompting you to follow him. “Wondering if you wanna come play padel with me and Max tomorrow morning.” 

You watched as he peeled back the covers on his bed, placing an extra pillow onto your unassigned side of the bed because he knew you liked more pillows tha he did. “I think I’ll pass, that sounds sort of hellish to me.” Athletics had never been your thing, never one to actively participate in games, and whilst you loved Max you thought it was best to leave him and Lando their own time without you imposing - though, Lando would insist you could never impose.

“Yeah, that’s alright. Probably good to see him before the double header kicks in,” Lando climbed into his bed, arms open for you to crawl into as he was wasted no time in wanting to hold you close. “You’re still coming to Belguim, yeah?” Hints of uncertainty could be found within his voice, though he tried to hide it, he couldn’t help it. He wanted you there, cheering him on from the sidelines, because he wasn’t sure he could get through the next few races without that light at the end of the tunnel.

“Yeah ‘course.” You didn’t have to give it a second thought; you had already decided after a phone call with his mother, but it must’ve slipped your mind to tell Lando himself. You were more focused on making yourself comfortable against his body, your head taking its him on his chest as his fingertips danced along the sliver of skin that was shown from the way your legs tangled with his under the covers.

Night soond turned into morning, Lando’s alarm blaring through his phone, making him regret any decision to play padel as he felt your body intertwined with his. He had to fight every urge to cancel his plans for the day and instead keep you in his bed, wrapped up in his clothes and his arms and his bedsheets. Would it be too much to ask you to spend another night within seconds of his eyes opening? Perhaps, but he couldn’t bear the thought of spending his nights alone for the next two weeks. 

He had two separate hotel rooms booked for Belgium but he knew that, inevitably, either one of you would cave and pad your away across the hotel to the other hotel room, desperate for the comfort of laying beside one another.

Instead of dwelling on such thoughts, he forced himself to get up for the day, leaving you to rest in his bed whilst he headed out to padel. Not before sending you a quick text to wake up to:

Lan<3

Hey, just headed to padel with Max

I’ll be two hours at most and 

I’ll come home with breakfast

Stay put pretty girl

“Who are you texting?” Max asked as Lando climbed into his car, trying to peer over to see his phone screen but remaining unsuccessful as it was pulled out of his vision.

“No one, you nosey bastard.” Lando turned his phone off, begrudgingly so, and put it into his pocket.

“I know it’s her, don’t play daft,” Max knew everything about Lando and his girl, even if they were too blind to see it. “I know she’s in your bed right now, and I know you’re late ‘cause of it.”

Max knew they were meant to be, even if they didn’t, he knew it - they were taking their time in getting there, in realising that was even a possibility for the two of them. Something pulled them together, somehow they would realise it, and someday they would end up together.

Even if Lando claimed his career was too much for her to handle, only allowing himself short flings with girls that didn’t matter to him, instead of a fulfilling relationship - Max knew she would be able to handle the ins and outs of Lando’s world; she knew how to ground him after a win when his ego allowed him to feel like he was on top of the world, but she also knew how to calm him down when he came to her door upset after a race.

Max didn’t buy into her claims that Lando wouldn’t be with her because their worlds were too different, he knew that was what he wanted. He didn’t want someone who stuck around for his titles and fame, he wanted a welcome sign and a plane ride home.

But Max would never intrude on fate, he was letting them be. They were meant to be, he knew it as well as everyone around them, but he was letting fate run its course for the result would be far more fulfilling than if he meddled with the two sides of the same story he was continually being told. 

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ too early for a present ] w. johnston

part of the “falling for a hughes” au

➾ paring : Wyatt Johnston x hughes!sister

➾ summary : Luke surprises his twin sister with a visit from her boyfriend

➾ warning(s) : none (just super short)

➾ author’s note : did i write this up super quick today bc it’s luke’s (and lizzy’s) birthday ? absolutely. enjoy this super quick blurb :))

au masterlist

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The one thing she hates more than anything else is her birthday. Usually it’s because September 9th always falls within the first couple weeks of school and the last thing she usually wants to do on her birthday is attend classes. She rarely ever got to celebrate with her brothers since they would go play with whatever team for that season.

For the last two years though, it’s because she’s had to say goodbye to Wyatt a few days before her birthday so he can report to Dallas’ training camp while she’s stuck in Newark. This year it’s even worse because her boyfriend left two days before her 21st birthday so he and Logan can get settled in their new apartment.

She was so excited to celebrate turning 21 with those she is closest to, but it’s just going to be her and Luke in his apartment that he shares with Jack while he’s away until that night when they go out. She was going to just stay in her own place but Luke insisted a sleepover going into their birthday. They did this once when they both started at Michigan so she wasn’t by herself in a dorm room with a roommate who was never around.

She’s grateful that she at least has her twin brother that she can celebrate with.

The morning of her birthday, a closing door wakes her up from her very light sleep. She stirs as she hears the door to the guest bedroom she’s temporarily occupying creak open.

“Go away, Luke,” she mumbles before she even opens her eyes. “It’s too early and I’m not ready to get up when I don’t even have classes today.”

“Happy birthday, Lizzy,” Luke says anyway. “Get up. Your present just arrived.”

Her eyes open and she checks the time on her phone. 7:53 stares her in the face. “It couldn’t wait until a decent hour?” she questions. “I don’t even get up this early for class.”

Luke pulls the covers off of her and she gasps from the cold air hitting her body. “I don’t care,” he tells her. “Get up for your surprise.”

“What the hell, Luke?” she says as she scrambles for some warmth. “What if I was naked or something?”

“I know you don’t sleep naked,” he retorts. “Not while your boyfriend isn’t around anyway. Pull on a hoodie or something and get out into the living room before I send your present away.”

Send your present away is the thing that gets her out of bed. She throws on the one Stars hoodie that Wyatt let her keep and peddles out into the living room behind her brother.

When she emerges from the hallway that leads to the bedrooms and bathrooms, she spots someone standing in the living room. Then that someone turns around and she can’t help but run over to him.

She throws herself around Wyatt and her boyfriend wraps his arms around her to keep her from falling to the floor. “I thought you went back to Dallas,” she says in his ear.

“I did,” he laughs. “That’s the reason I left a couple of days early. So I could come back here for your birthday. I didn’t want Logan to set up the apartment by himself so Logan, Luka, and I made a plan that I’d go down for a few days to help then come back up here for you. I know you wanted to celebrate with your brothers but Jack is in Vegas and Quinn went back to Vancouver so it’s just you and Luke so Luke wanted to surprise you.”

She grins and pulls back so she can look at Wyatt. “It’s way too early for a surprise, Wy,” she giggles.

“It was the only flight I could get,” he tells her as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to spend as much of today as I could with you anyway so it worked out.”

Wyatt puts her down and she turns her attention to her twin brother. Luke sits on the arm of the couch. Lizzy walks up to him and hugs him. “Thank you, Luke,” she says in his ear. “I would’ve been okay if it was just you and me. I hope you know that.”

“I know, Liz,” Luke laughs. “Enjoy your present. I’m going to go get some reps in before the rookies hit the ice so you can have some privacy.”

She rolls her eyes and pushes him away from her. Luke smiles and disappears down the hallway. Lizzy turns to Wyatt. “Are you tired?” he asks. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Lizzy nods. “For a little bit,” she replies. “In a bed so don’t even think about suggesting the couch.”

“Wouldn’t even think of it.”

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MAIN MASTERLIST

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[kisses4spidey]

renovation | ☆ミ p. parker

summary - y/n renovates the spare bedroom into something she thinks peter will love, but there’s something he loves even more.

genre - fem!reader x peter, fluff, domestic

warnings - kissing, can be read as any peter but i imagined tasm!peter :)

w.c - 800+

a/n - first marvel fic ever!!!! i hope yall like it. i was inspired by that one stardew valley scene- also i dont actually know alot about photogrpahy and darkrooms but hey you write and you learn.

You stood back from the second bedroom and sighed, a smile crossing your face as feelings of self-accomplishment and proudness rushed through you. The room was set up with two desks, bottles of processing fluids, papers, storage containers and string hung from one side of the room to the other.

Though it was a small room, your heart felt big when you looked at it. You originally scolded yourself for doing this, as Peter had insisted on the room being your office or library (he was getting tired of book stacks), but as your hard work ties in together in a picture of purpose, you mentally wipe the dust of your shoulders and hold up a trophy reading 'Best Girlfriend Ever'.

One last time, you checked to make sure the red lights worked and that everything was set in place, as Peter's nightly retirement from swinging through the city was approaching. The time that actually happened was varying night to night, but you hoped he caught you before you fell asleep and he discovered the darkroom himself.

You situated yourself on a stool facing the kitchen counter, which faced the door. An old tie was resting on the bench, as well as your phone which buzzed unanswered messages from coworkers and friends. The doorknob jiggled with the sounds of keys (he changed his ways of climbing through the window after you almost got doxxed) before the door opened. You stood, dressed in a sleeping shirt and some pyjama pants, and rushed to him. Avoiding his hello kiss unintentionally, you wrapped the tie around his head and giggled to yourself. Peter was adorned in loose jeans and a shirt with a physics joke you didnt understand, his hair messy from flying through the wind for the past four hours.

"What's going on?" His cheeks bunched in a smile, as he placed his bag down before reaching out to you blindly.

"I've got a surprise for you, your not allowed to look beforehand."

He smirked and let out a sigh, "Oh god you haven't tried to paint me again have you?"

"Nope. Something much better." You took his biceps in your hands, squeezing them in excitment and anxiety as you pulled him down the hallway.

Peter had an idea where you were going, but not why. The new-ish apartment was basically memorised by now, and by the time you stopped pulling him he assumed he was stood in front on the spare bedroom. It had been unfurnished for the six months you had been moved in there, and even if he insisted you made it your own personal space, you denied the idea immediately.

Next, he felt you fingertips brush against his cheeks and unwrap the tie from his eyes. The first thing he saw was your beaming face and your hand on the doorknob behind your back. All he wanted was to squeeze your face and place a million kisses on your face, but alas you looked too excited to even blink.

His eyes darted from your eyes to the floor under the door and unconsiously raised one eyebrow with curiosity. It was tinted red.

"Okay. Before we go in, there are things that definitly need to be added and arranged differently but that depends on how you like things. Seriously, like this is not going to be everything you need-"

Peter gently pushed you to the side and opened the doorknob, eyes still on yours, "I'm sure whatever's behind this door is-"

He was met with a darkroom. A room to accompany his imense love for photography, in his very own apartment. He didn't need to rent out a dark room anymore, or borrow time from someone else. It was right here. He could photograph to his heart's content.

The strings we are at his eye level, and they swayed slightly when he bent down to observe the whole room. It was hard at first to differentiate one object from another due to the red hue of the entire room, but nonetheless he loved it.

"Is perfect." He finished his sentence in shock.

His gaze spun to face you, your back to him as you closed the door. When you turned, your face was full of anxiety and expectance. His eyes raked your face, he ducked below a string and grabbed your face, smashing his lips to yours.

You squealed in surprise and giggled into his lips. He ripped away - hands not leaving your face - and he started rambling. "This is perfect, Y/n! Oh my gosh. This is like the best thing ever- I'm a little angry that you didn't use it for yourself- But still this is like..." His eyes swirled with adoration and love, and it almost made your legs turn into jelly.

A weight was lifted off your shoulders at his reassuring words. You let out a happy laugh, "You deserve it, I'm glad you love it."

He took one more look at the room with the biggest smile you've seen on him in a while, before turning his attention to you once again. "Oh, but I like you much more."

He kissed you hard, opening the door behind you and leading you to your bedroom.

taglist is open!!

[bunnyywritings]

lazy morning with the salary man & honey bunny

NANAMI KENTO x F!READER

[a/n: day 1 of my b-day special event is here! i apologize if it’s a bit underwhelming…i feel like I’m still getting a hold of writing smut so i really hope this is okay!! i proofread like a billion times so I hope there are no spelling mistakes or whatever…also just a huge PSA for these fics, i am very much a mid/plus size woman who goes to the gym daily, when i use the term “little” it in no way refers to body type or size of anything, it’s more like a condescending/degradation thing…so yeah <3]

© bunnyywritings pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

wc: 3.3k words

warnings: somnophilia, cuddle-fucking, thigh job, mirror sex, cow girl…y’all it’s basically porn with no plot, no use of y/n, reader’s screen name is bunny (sorry not sorry), reader is also called: sweetheart, love, good girl, honey, baby

You had woken up early to get your room set up how you wanted so you two could just jump into it and as soon as you heard the knock on your door, it made you extra giddy. He would’ve found it amusing to see you tripping yourself up just to let him in the door.

And once you did, oh boy…the sight had you shifting from leg to leg, attempting to be subtle about squeezing your thighs together.

Kento was usually a put together guy. Handsome, well coordinated suits for work. Loose trousers and a button up, no tie when he was attempting to be more casual, even an occasional t-shirt and jeans to be really casual but you’ve never seen him this dressed down. A mouthwatering pair of gray sweat shorts and a deep green pullover that had a few bleach stains and looked well worn.

He hadn’t even noticed your lack of greeting because he was too busy running his eyes up and down your body. He was used to seeing your different get ups for your account and just casually as friends. He’s seen you in costumes, in your casual clothes, lingerie, cute silky pajamas but this, this was different. You were barefaced, wearing an oversized t-shirt that had a few stains you could never get out, boxers you wore as sleep shorts, and cute bunny slippers that a fan had sent you.

“Hi sweetheart…” He muttered, finally catching the blush on your cheeks and the dazed look in your eye.

“H-Hi Ken, c-come in.” You took a deep breath as he walked past, his cologne lingering as you shut the door. “D’you want anything to drink?”

“I’m okay, thank you.” You nodded, nervously biting the inside of your cheek as you approached him, having to tilt your head back a bit to get a good look. “So did you have a script or anything for me?”

You opened your mouth to respond but you stuttered when he gripped your chin, thumb caressing just below your bottom lip. “U-hm uh script? N-No, I thought w-we’d improvise…I hope that’s okay?”

His honeyed eyes softened, shifting between yours before he dipped down and delicately pressed his lips against yours, “That’s alright with me, show me where you want me.” His voice vibrated against your plush skin, the ticklish feeling making you squirm the slightest bit.

As the cameras rolled, you and Kento were snuggled up together underneath your pink duvet, legs tangled together with one thrown over hips. He was shifting around, eyes fluttering open as he “woke up.” A sleepy groan rumbled from his chest as he started to press featherlight kisses to every patch of exposed skin he could reach.

“My sweet bunny…” He mused, sighing wistfully. Peeling back the duvet, he gently removed your leg from where it was draped and positioned your legs wide enough to fit himself in between them and then doing so, his hands planting themselves by your temples for stability but before he could continue, your eyes snapped open. A sharp pain through your scalp makes you yelp in discomfort.

“Ow! Ah, Ken! My hair!” You laughed in disbelief as his face contorted in a quick panic before realizing that he was, in fact, trapping your hair under his palm.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry…”He chuckled in matching disbelief, moving his hand so you could shift over, moving your hair out of his way. “M’sorry love.” Your lashes fluttered bashfully as he pecked your nose. “Close your eyes, you’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He continued again. Kissing from your neck, down your torso and lifting your shirt. He breathed a subtle laugh at the way your muscles twitched as his breath grazed your skin before pressing a kiss just below your naval.

Your resolve was running thin. How could you possibly continue to pretend to be asleep with his teasing? Ever the observant one, he could see how your squirming became a lot more noticeable.

Cheekily placing another kiss to your sensitive skin before finally pulling off your shorts a little roughly, your cue.

“Kento?” You sleepily murmured, hand blindly reaching out and pushing his soft, blonde locks from his forehead. His heart swelled, you were so sweet. So intoxicating. So lovely. And just for today, you were his. All his.

“Good morning sweetheart…” Finally pulling your shorts off, his breath hitched when he was met with the sight of your wet folds unobscured by any pesky fabric. “So naughty, hmm?” He teased. “Going to bed with no panties.”

He pushed your legs further apart, cupping underneath your thighs to hold them steady and spreading you open with his thumbs. “So pretty.”

What had caught you off guard was him leaning forward and inhaling your scent. A startled moan leaving you when his nose met your aching clit. He just chuckled and licked a bold stripe up your slit. “Just relax for me.”

You wanted to laugh. Relax? When his lips were wrapped around your pulsing clit, sucking messily. Impossible. “Oh my-” You choked out a whine at the spine-tingling sensation, his tongue flattening as he began to move his head side to side.

As much of a put together gentleman he liked to portray, Kento was a messy eater. The wet, squelching noises were almost too much for you. Your cheeks turning an embarrassing red at the lewdness of it all.

Kento could feel how you attempted to squirm away, your quiet and desperate cries stroking his pride. Your entrance was clenching around nothing and your throbbing heat was enough for him to realize that you were quickly reaching your high. Your knees met in an attempt to snap your legs shut at the overwhelming pleasure but his broad shoulders and firm grip was enough to keep them open. “You gonna cum for me, bunny?”

“Yes! Yes Ken…p-please! I’m gonna-” You were desperately grinding against his tongue.

And before the coil could snap, he pulled himself away with a vulgar pop!

Your heart dropped in disappointment, a displeased whine leaving your throat. Once again, he spread your lips with his thumbs mesmerized by your sticky cunt. He could just imagine how easily you’d suck him in, your warm and wet walls accommodating his length but he was frustratingly patient.

He looked up at you and smiled at your clear disappointment, a prominent pout pulling your lips down. He sat up on his heels, gripping the edge of your t-shirt and pulling it off of you. “Mmm so pretty…” He whispered, almost to himself, his hands gripping your waist and running across your warm skin. Despite this having been a planned affair, you still seemed so sleepy. So soft and pliant underneath him, it made his heart race. “So soft, all for me. Hmm?”

The reverence in his voice and his touch made you extra bashful. Your stomach doing somersaults as you looked away from his burning gaze. He took a moment to admire you, your breaths became heavier with anticipation, the wonderfully red hue of your cheeks and the tips of your ears, the way your hips squirmed, desperate for him. For his touch. He cooed as a small gasp left your lips, one of his hands cupping your breast. The pad of his thumb grazing over the pert nipple. He kissed beneath your jaw and gave your nipple a teasing pinch before stepping off the bed.

You sat up slightly and watched as he peeled his sweatshirt off, mouth watering once he kicked off his shorts and boxers. His cock on full display against his lower abdomen, tip a pretty pink and leaking precum. “Lay on your side for me, bunny.” He could almost laugh at how distracted you were as his hand gripped the base of his shaft before stroking up and down a few times, thumb twisting over his sensitive head. “Come on, be a good girl for me. Lay on your side.” The slightly firmer tone he had taken was enough to shake you from your stupor. Doing what you're told and laying on your side, your eyes widened when you were met with both the camera and your full length mirror.

You watched him climb back into the bed right behind you, his body warm against your back. “Scoot back just a little bit, honey.” His breath tickled the shell of your ear as his left arm wrapped around your midsection to help you shift backwards so your skin was flush with his. His other arm snug beneath your head.

Both your eyes met through the mirror. “Hi.” He smiled gently as you shyly echoed the sentiment back, mirth filled his eyes as he skimmed his hand down your stomach and to your thigh, your muscles jumping beneath your skin. You bit your lip as you watched his fingertips tease your inner thigh, edging closer to where you wanted his touch the most before moving back to your thigh.

“Please, Kento…” You begged so prettily, he yearned to pull more from you.

“Patience, bunny. Patience.” He tutted, finally gripping your thigh and prying your legs apart. “Keep that leg up, f’me…” He muttered, reaching between the two of you and taking a hold of his throbbing cock, hissing at his own touch. You were making him so unbelievably aroused, his will was starting to wear thin.

You were starting to become impatient, your interrupted climax from before wasn’t helping the feeling of desperation. He tapped his weeping tip against your clit, the wet plap! and the weight of him was enough to make you dizzy. He let his length rest against your wet cunt as he cupped the backside of your knee to keep your leg up. “All wet just for me…” He rutted his hips against you, a groan leaving his lips as he started a steady pace, just rubbing against you. The back and forth against your clit was enough to make your jaw drop in a silent scream. “My sweet bunny, who’s pretty cunt is this? Hmm?”

“Y-Yours! Oh my god- s’all yours Ken! Feels so good…”

“Maybe I should just do this, hmm? Make you cum without even properly fucking you.” He increased his pace steadily, your bed creaking quietly with the force of his movements.

“No! No Kento, please! Please I want- ahh!” The pleasure was clouding your mind as he started to glide so smoothly against you.

“What do you want? What does my whiny baby want?”

“F-fuck! I wan…want you to fuck m-me Ken! Please, need your cock!”

He chuckled darkly against your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…cum and I’ll give you what you want. Come on, be a good girl and cum.” He dropped your leg, a choked moan leaving his throat as you instinctively squeezed your thighs shut. His breathing got heavier and heavier, breathy moans steadily leaving him, your plush thighs and the wet heat that he was rutting into was slowly making his brain melt.

“You feel so good baby, fuuuck! You’re gonna make me cum…so warm and-and wet, shit- love this pussy.” He could feel your thighs twitch, the steady pulse between your legs giving you away. “Come on, cum for me…” His command was followed by just that, whines leaving you as you started to grind against him, your release making you slide back easier.

“Give me your cum, please Ken…please, please, please-” He felt the coil snap as you started to babble incoherently, stilling with a final thrust as he shot thick, white ropes against your skin. The sticky feeling between your legs was intoxicating as you slumped against him completely, breaths heavy.

Kento’s hips twitched, causing him to rut against you involuntarily. “You want to keep going?” He muttered against your glistening skin.

He was still painfully hard and wanted nothing more than to bury himself in you but he would end the scene then and there if you threw in the towel.

You lifted your leg once more, watching strings of your mixed releases drip from your thighs through the mirror. Kento twitched against you, his cock basically jumping in excitement as you reached down and pressed his head tight against your overstimulated clit, grinding against his sweltering member.

“Put it in, honey. Take what’s yours.”

You didn’t need to be told twice as you shifted yourself a bit higher to line him up with your pulsing entrance. He was in a trance as he watched his reflection, eyebrows furrowing as he watched his length disappear, your walls snug around him. “S-So big, shit!” You cried, eyes snapping shut.

He was so thick, filling you up and stretching you so deliciously.

“M’not even all the way in, bunny.”

He wasn’t a cocky man by any means but if there was one thing he was highly prideful of, it’s definitely how well endowed he is.

You glanced at where the two of you connected to find that he wasn’t joking. He already felt like he was in your stomach…but he was only about half way sheathed. Taking full advantage of your distraction, Kento pulled out til just his tip was being clutched by your entrance before forcefully thrusting the rest of his length into you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, mouth falling into a cute o shape. “There we go.” He hummed, palm pressing down against your lower stomach, the sensation making your eyes roll back. “Feel that, m’right there. So deep…” He groaned, starting a slow and steady pace.

Quiet whimpers and moans left your throat as he rutted into you, eyes falling shut as you let yourself be consumed by pleasure.

Kento couldn’t help but think about how domestic this scene was turning out to be. Not that he minded one bit, but still. He took your lead and let himself be swallowed by the pleasure that was making his spine tingle.

Enjoying how wet and warm you were. The sun gently filtering into your room, the quiet creaking of your bed frame and your sweet noises were enough to want to lull him into sleep.

“F-fuck, Kento…m’so full a-and warm. You're making me sleepy…”

He breathily chuckled. “Yeah, would you like that? Want me to fuck you back to sleep, hmm? Use your pretty cunt while you dream?”

A particularly pitchy moan left you as you clenched down around him, his words making you so much more wet. Pussy squelching quietly between your thighs. “Mhmm, I’d let you do whatever you wanted to. Let you cum inside me, fill me up as many times as you want.”

“You spoil me, honey…fuck.”

He slid his palm down in between your clenched thighs and pressed his middle and ring fingers against your pulsing and puffy clit. The touch making your hips grind against his fingers, effectively fucking yourself back against his cock as well.

“I can’t…I’m cumming-hah ahh!” He felt your release as you twitched against him, his fingers rubbing gently circles into your bud to help you ride it out.

“Mmm that’s a good girl, ride my fingers…that’s it.” He hummed, pulling his hand from it’s place and bringing them to your lips. Watching the mirror through lidded eyes as you took them into your mouth and lazily suckled them. “Lift your leg, show off how messy my pussy is. All messy and wet for me.” You moaned against his fingers, doing as he said and lifting your leg. Pulling his fingers from your lips with a pop and pulling himself out of you.

He shifted you so he could pull his arm from underneath your head and moved to a kneeling position. He hooked your leg over his opposite shoulder, so it was diagonal across his chest as he lined himself back up.

You looked so ethereal, splayed out before him. Your beautiful breasts on full display, skin flushed, and a dazed look on your eyes. “Such a pretty girl.” He muttered, not missing the way you preened at his compliment. Watching the way your face screwed up in pleasure and struggling to keep his eyes from snapping shut when he pushed himself back into your sinful walls.

Now that his hand was free, you reached out, tenderly lacing your fingers in between his. Holding on as his slow, deep thrusts drove you to ecstasy. “Feel so good, honey…f-fuck. M’not gonna last long.”

“Please cum, cum inside me…” You whimpered. “Please Kento, cum with me.”

How could he say no to that?

So, with one hand still holding your leg against him and the other holding your hand, he continued to fuck into you. Steadily increasing his pace and absolutely loving watching you fall apart on him. Once you started to pulse around him and your hips started to twitch, he clenched his jaw. Holding his tongue as words that should not be said threatened to spill.

“Oh my god, I’m cumming! I-I’m-”

“Fucking hell…me too, I-” He groaned, stilling as he spilled everything he had into you. Balls tightening as he squeezed out every last drop.

You felt him shift and you panicked, squeezing his hand. “Don’t pull out…please?” He smiled softly at your earnestness, carefully placing your leg back down.

“Of course…” He did his best to keep himself buried in your core, laying back down and holding you close.

“Wanna take a nap like this…” You yawned.

“Okay then, that’s what we’ll do.” He was softening inside you, eyes falling shut as your warmth lulled him to sleep.

About twenty minutes later, Kento awoke as an intense pleasure racked his body. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and was met with the sight of your ass bouncing on his cock, leaning on his knees for support.

“Hah what a needy thing, so desperate for my cock that you couldn’t even wait for me to wake up.” His deep, sleep filled voice had your pussy wet.

“F-finally, you’re up-” You whimpered, not even halting your movements.

“Gonna make yourself cum already?” He teased, one hand kneading the flesh of your ass.

“Mhmm…so- m’so sensitive! Fucked me so ah! so good, Ken!” Your movements faltered, back arching as you came with a hoarse cry. He admired your body as you sat on his dick, shaking as you came down from your high.

He opened his mouth but was quickly cut off as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down onto him. “W-wait…fuck!” His toes curled at how sensitive he was, broken whimpers leaving him as you continued your, surprisingly, relentless pace. The noises coming from his throat was enough to push through the intense burning of your thighs.

“Hah bunny! You’re cunt’s squeezing me so- fuck- so damn tight! Feel fucking amazing, shit!” He gasped. “Cumming…m’gonna cum…ngh fuck me! Fuck!”

His broken whines and the overstimulation had you cumming one more time, Kento following right behind you, his thighs quivering as he weakly spurted the rest of his release into you.

Catching his breath, he sat up and pulled you into his chest. Gently pulling his cock out of you with a hiss.

Your entire body felt like jello.

He pulled you down onto the bed with him, pulling the duvet over the both of you and cradling your head into the crook of his neck. “Did so good f’me…” He whispered, placing messy kisses to your cheek, down your neck and to your shoulder. A smile pulling at his lips as your tired giggles vibrated against his skin.

“Thank you.” You pressed a few kisses to his collarbone.

His cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of pink. “Anything for you…”

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