#and the kiss scenes? immaculate
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Props to the special effects and lighting team this season my GOD
#like the backlight in this creepy DA scene???#while the dome is otherwise completely dark???#the vibes are IMMACULATE#just brennan’s glowing face#as he imitates the eerie face of the mind control affected DA#chef’s kiss#dimension 20#d20#d20 mentopolis#mentopolis#mentopolis spoilers#mentopolis grappling with death#grappling with death#special effects#live reaction#brennan lee mulligan
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So I just saw the new live action Little Mermaid movie, and I think I'm in love with Prince Eric 🥹
#such a cutie!#THE DIMPLE#iykyk#also the kiss the girl scene was immaculate#so beautiful#and halle bailey was phenomenal#i really really enjoyed it#k talks
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oh shit am i in love with this fic? YES. YES I AM (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
oh shit, are we in love? || Jongho (m.)
🏀 pairing ⇢ cheerleader! (fem) reader x best friend/basketball player! Jongho
🏀 summary ⇢ you’ve called Jongho your best friend all your life. You were attached at the hip for ages, and even as you take on college together. With no other relationship experience other than with him, when you decide to go after a cute classmate, you look to Jongho for some help. Asking him to practice “things” with you seemed like nothing—that is, until kissing him made you think that you couldn’t kiss anyone else.
🏀 genre/au ⇢ best friends to lovers, college au, smut, fluff
🏀 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, oral sex (male recieving), cum shot, Jongho is a virgin, also is a slut for y/n, drinking, mentions of knee injury, best friends to lovers, college love, cheerleader x basketball player
🏀 word count ⇢ 15.8k (so sorry I just couldnt stop)
🏀 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)
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When you were kids, Jongho gave you a ring—a ring made out of straw paper he kept after a trip to get milkshakes after school.
With the paper straw ring, he stuck it on your ring finger. The wrong one, but that didn't matter to him, anyway. He declared to you that he would marry you someday. Someday, whatever that meant to a young kid. With the ring already on your finger, you couldn't exactly decline his proposal, so you just shrugged and told him, “Why not?”
At seventeen, you went to prom together. Not because you liked each other, no. Because it was convenient, it made sense. How could you go with someone else? You wore a beautiful red gown, Jongho matching you with a patterned red tie. You had a great time, went home together, and nearly kissed at your doorstep—you didn't think too much of it. You blamed it on the atmosphere. So did he.
You sat at your desk in your cramped dorm room, your bed pushed up on the left side of the room and a mess of pillows and blankets covering it.
Suddenly, as you were finally getting to the good part in your book, Jongho barged into your room, dropping his basketball bag onto the floor with a groan. He tossed his slides off, not even meeting your gaze before walking like a zombie towards your messy bed, throwing himself on top.
“Well hello to you too,” you blinked, losing your page in your book. “Get out of my damn bed, you're sweaty as fuck.”
He huffed, crossing his muscular arms across his chest, staring up at the glow stars you put on the ceiling. “Leave me be. My roommate is fucking some chick right now. I just need to lay down.”
“San seems like he gets around a lot,” you scoffed, picking up your book again. You were currently reading a very, very smutty book—although you were supposed to be studying your literature anthology text for the exam you had in the morning. You flipped a page.
“Oh, he does,” Jongho sniffed. You looked over at him, his cut-off t-shirt revealing a good bit of skin on his side, his sweat gleaming on his body. “I mean, practice just ended. He had to have the damn girl in there even before he got back. It’s ridiculous.”
He sat up now, putting his back against his headboard. He winced a bit as he moved, his hand going to the brace around his knee.
You paused, completely forgetting the smut you were reading. “What is it? Is it hurting again?”
“Just a little, it’s no biggie.” Jongho offered you a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Don't give me that look, y/n. I hurt it a while ago. It's normal for it to ache occasionally.”
Back in your senior year, he tore his ACL before the season, causing him to never have his final year of basketball. He was a mess, but at least he had you. He got surgery, had physical therapy, but yet, he still has pain to this day.
You met his eyes for a moment, sighing when that gorgeous smile of his poked through his lips. “Fine, fine. Just get outa here when you can. I got some…important things to do alone tonight.”
He furrowed his brows, confused. “What could you possibly…..oh,” he shut his eyes painfully. “Please, I don't want to imagine it.” He scooted back down on the bed and tossed your blanket on top of him. “My eyes, my eyes.”
“Oh, shut up, you pussy.” You set your book down, crossing your legs. “A girl gotta live out her fantasies somehow, alright?”
“La la la,” he repeated, trying his best to ignore the conversation. “I don't wanna hear it.”
You let out a chuckle, stood up from your seat, and tossed yourself onto the bed with him, tackling him as he thrashed from your grip.
“Stop it, stop it,” he groaned, wriggling away from your hands as you tickled him. He giggled, childlike. You giggled right along with him, not even caring about the damn sweat that coated his skin, his clothes. You tangled together under the blanket, and after a good couple minutes of a tickle fight, you grabbed your laptop to watch your favorite TV show.
Jongho stayed under the blankets with you, his leg strewn on top of your body, his head in the crook of your neck as you watched the show together. He let out a few snide comments—earning a slap from you, but he just chuckled and nuzzled closer into you.
And after a few episodes, he fell asleep on you, legs tangled in yours, your arm wrapped around him.
—
“Dude, you wouldn't answer your phone last night,” Wooyoung mumbled as he stuffed a couple of chips into his mouth. “Do you literally have a new bitch every night?”
You and your friends were sitting at a table in the dining hall, munching on some lunch before you had class. Wooyoung, San, and Mingi sat across from you and Jongho, all of them in workout gear—they were going to the gym after lunch.
“Listen, last night wasn't even that good,” San hummed dully, taking a sip of his protein shake. “She was too damn loud—”
“I thought you liked them whiny,” Mingi deadpanned.
San’s eyes narrowed on the giant. “Your point? She was loud, not whiny—there’s a difference.” San looked to Jongho now, a slight smirk on his pretty little lips. “Where’d you go? You could've joined us.”
Jongho waved his hands sporadically. “No, no, I’d rather not, thank you.”
San huffed playfully, eyes dancing to you. They glimmered knowingly. “Ah, you’d rather be in her bed, right?” he nodded his head towards you, earning a harsh glare from Jongho.
“So what if I'm in her bed, it’s not like we do anything.” Jongho’s eyes went frantic, and his fists balled. “We’ve always slept with each other—wait, that came out wrong—”
“What he’s trying to say is that we’ve slept in the same bed since we were little, that nothing is ever gonna happen,” you interjected, crossing your arms across your chest.
San laughed at that. “Ah yeah, that nothing’s gonna happen, gotcha,” he said, taking the last sip of his protein shake. I’m going to the gym if you guys are ready. Jongho, y/n, you coming?”
You shook your head, but stood up with everyone else, anyway. “I have class, but you guys have fun. I’ll walk out with you.”
As you and your friends left the dining hall, the cool, winter air breezed through you, sending chills down your spine. Your winter coat wasn't enough. You shoved your hands into your pockets, walking stiffly next to jongho, who simply—possibly even without thinking, tossed his arm around your shoulder, warming you up instantly. Your friends continued to talk and carry on, and you snuggled up into Jongho’s warm side.
—
Class was a bore. As per usual. The spring semester had just started, and the new classes you had were far from entertaining. Anything to get through school, though.
As you packed up your things, a phone fell from the seat in front of you, landing right by your feet. You picked it up, but when the person was no longer sitting there, you quickly tossed your bag over your shoulder to follow him.
“Hey, excuse me!” you huffed, chasing after the guy—damn, his legs were long. He moved way too fast for you. “Your phone….dude!” you finally reached him, tapping him on the shoulder, only for the most gorgeous man to grace the earth to turn around.
You forced yourself to keep your jaw from falling to the floor as you met his dark eyes. His hair was even darker, his lips a soft pink, curling up slightly.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, holding up the phone. “But you dropped this.”
The pretty guy blinked, smirking. The classroom emptied as you stood staring at each other, oblivious to the professor giving you a side-eye as he left.
“I don't think that’s mine,” he said blandly, but his eyes glimmered mischievously. He looked a bit older—definitely older than you, at least.
You furrowed your brows, looking at the phone in your hands. “I could've sworn you were the one sitting in front of me,” you wondered, confused. You pushed it forward into his chest. “Just take it I don't have time to find the owner if it's not yours.”
He smiled down at you, his thick eyebrows raising. “I won't take it.”
“Why the hell not?” your patience was running thin—you had to get the cheer practice. This stupidly pretty guy was not allowed to make you late. You were not running laps. Not today.
You were about to just shove it into his pockets until his mouth opened. “Not without your number.”
You frowned. “Is that….is that supposed to be a pickup line?”
He shrugged. “If you want it to be, then yes.”
God, the smile this damn boy had. You were gonna crumble under his gaze like some schoolgirl, but you kept your cool.
His eyes were so bright, so clear. He was tall, much taller than you, much older. You watched as he looked around, away from you. “If not, then I’ll just take the phone back—”
“No, no,” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the phone in your hands. “You just…you’ll just need to unlock it.”
He smiled gorgeously. “I can do that.”
He took the phone, typed in a few numbers, and gave it right back to you. “What’s your name?”
“y/n,” you hummed, forcing your blush away. This was the first time you had been asked for your number, the first time a guy other than Jongho or your friends had looked at you. “You?”
“Seonghwa,” the pretty boy smiled, a name now to the face. You couldn't help but grin at his expression—and the utter insanity that just happened. It was totally random; a pretty guy asking for your number? That’s never happened in all your years. Never.
“If I ask to buy you a coffee,” he started as you fumbled on your phone number. “Would you say yes?”
“Depends,” you shrugged, unable to look up at him. “If you get me food, too.”
“Deal.” Goddamn, that smile, those teeth. “Tomorrow, after class? Before class?”
You bit your lip, handing the phone back to him. “Before, I have practice after class.” actually, you had practice like, right now. You probably looked crazy, eyes wide as you realized where you needed to be. “I gotta go—speaking of which—”
Before you could leave, he called for you. “Hey, where should we meet?”
“Outside the library?” you tossed out, hoping he answered hastily.
He nodded, giving you that smile once again.
“Perfect.”
—
You were in bed after practice, and Jongho was sitting quietly on your desk chair, slowly taking off his knee brace and hissing.
“God, this thing sucks,” he groaned, the velcro tearing as he peeled it off. The brace was like a metal cage, going from his thigh to his lower calf, looking like a deathtrap.
“And it stinks,” you mumbled dramatically, staring up at your ceiling, hands folded on your stomach as your mind wandered. You sat up quickly, startling your best friend.
“What? What is it?” he spat out, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You just sat up like a goddamn zombie.”
“If, let’s just say, hypothetically,” you wondered, looking out into space. “That I got asked out on a date to a coffee shop, how would I dress?”
Jongho’s eyes widened. “You got asked out? You?” he asked incredulously.
You scoffed, looking over at him with a playful sneer. “Is that so hard to believe?”
He laughed, finally taking off his brace and setting it on the side of your desk. “Oh yeah—y/n, you’ve never once gone on a date in all of our years of friendship. It's shocking.”
You blinked at him, gripping a pillow from behind you and tossing it at him. Of course, he caught it.
“I’m just saying—”
“Okay, but for real,” you groaned, shifting to get comfy again. “You’ve been on some dates, how did the girls usually dress for them? Did you ever go on a coffee date—”
“Who’s the guy?” he huffed out, completely ignoring your worries.
You flattened your lips. “Does that matter?”
“Uh, yeah. What if the guy is a scumbag?” Jongho leaned back in the chair, stretching out his arms.
“He’s definitely not a scumbag,” you sighed, thinking of how dreamy he looked, missing Jongho’s worried expression. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.”
You couldn't figure out the look on your best friend’s face. He knitted his brows, his eyes raising to yours. “Just dress normally,” he spoke softly. “When’s your date?”
“Tomorrow.” You hopped off your bed and walked towards your closet across from Jongho. He followed you as you moved and hesitated to look as you tore off your top, leaving you standing in your sports bra.
Jongho gulped but rolled his eyes playfully. “Why do you always undress in front of me?” His eyes naturally dropped to your hips as you slid off your sweatpants. “I am a man, too, you know.”
“Pfft, man, my ass,” you turned your back to him as he tried his best not to look. You grabbed a t-shirt—his t-shirt that you kept from a while ago—and tossed it on. You didn't even bother with pants.
Jongho gave you a look as you turned to face him. “My shirt? Really?” He groaned, mouth parted as he looked at you. “Where the hell are your pants?”
“I don't like pants.”
“Then put shorts on—”
“Is it a crime to sleep in my underwear? God, at least I have something on, dammit.” you walked past him and hopped back onto your bed. “I could be completely naked—this is my room, remember?”
Jongho didn't change his expression—he blinked at you while you sat on the bed, bare-legged, the skin up to the top of your thigh visible. He took in a gulp. “I, uh, I got an assignment due at midnight. I’m gonna head back to my room.”
You shrugged and shuffled into bed to get comfy. “Have fun with that, babycakes,” you said, giving him a wink, but he ignored it and left your room without another look.
—
Maybe it was a bad idea to wear jeans on a day like today.
A day when you woke up painfully bloated, bleeding, and aching from your period. Out of all the days, you had to get it today.
You stood outside the library, your back against the red brick building. You wore a cute pink top with the flared jeans you were struggling with, and you added a cute little bow to hold your hair back.
You saw Seonghwa walk up to you. His lower half was also dawned in wonderfully-fitting jeans. They hugged his thighs, loosening a bit at his knees, and fell over a pair of sparkling clean white sneakers that looked like they were worth more than your car.
The white shirt was also slim against his lean frame. You held back any reaction you had like a damn cat in heat. “Hey,” he started as he neared. “Ready to go? We can go to the coffee shop on campus since we have class coming up.”
You nodded, hoping to god the smile on your face was not grimace-like.
“Yep, let’s go.”
You sat with your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as Seonghwa waited for your drinks. You looked over at him, watching his figure lean against the closest wall, how his long, long legs looked in those damn pants, how his fingers tapped against his arm as he waited. You barely knew him, nothing much other than knowing his name and now his coffee order, and you wondered what it would be like to get to know him.
When he sat down in front of you, he handed you your coffee, a bright, blinding smile on his face. “I pegged you as the type to like ridiculously flavored seasonal drinks….” he paused, smirking, as you froze mid-sip on your….seasonal drink. Highly, highly sugary seasonal drink. “Guess I’m a good judge of character.”
You swallowed the party of sugar and cinnamon before giving him a shy smile. “I’m a sucker for them, to be honest.”
You sat quietly for a good while, sipping on your drink, him sipping on his. The feeling was…nice. However, you were a bit anxious as he looked at you, at your lips, as you drank from the straw.
“You’re a cheerleader for the basketball team, right?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere—besides class, I mean.”
You nodded. “Yep, I cheer for the basketball team,” you took another sip of your drink. “Do you play? I think I would've seen you before, though.”
“Actually,” he started, offering you a kind smile. “I just transferred in from another university. I start official practice today, but I’ve been to many games already.”
Oh, so he’d seen you and known that you were on the cheer squad even before he approached you?
Cute.
“Oh, wow,” you smiled, leaning closer without realizing it. “So, will you be playing in the next game, then?”
“Yes,” he looked ecstatic, like he can't wait. “We’ll see how much playing time I actually get, though. Those guys are very good—”
“Oh, I know!” you didn't mean to interrupt him, but you would take any chance to brag about your Jongho. “My best friend is the point guard.”
“You know Jongho?” Seonghwa smiled, but it looked a bit weary. “He’s a great guy.”
“He really is.” you took a large sip of your coffee, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze as you did it. His gaze fluttered to your lips once more, and he licked his own.
He tapped against the wooden table. “Would you….want to do this again?”
You raised your brows. “This? You mean, getting coffee?”
“Not exactly,” he blinked, letting out a little chuckle. “Anything, just…we can hang out more, if you're down with that.”
Your heart fluttered a bit. “Ah, yeah, I would like that.”
He smiled. “Good,” he looked at the clock on the wall near your seat. “We gotta get to class.”
“Class, yeah, that’s right,” you were lost in his gaze, not even realizing how captivating his entire being was. You followed him out of the coffee shop, walking next to each other, until you got to the classroom.
He took the seat next to you this time, and you were beginning to suffocate from the feeling of his body being so close.
—
“I think I’m doomed.”
Jongho, like always, is in your room when you come back from practice. He sat up from his lazy position on your bed, eyebrows raised.
“Why’s that?”
You huffed, tossing your cheer bag onto the floor next to your desk. “What if he kisses me? I’ve never kissed anyone, fuck, I bet I’ll look like a fish trying to gulp fucking water—”
“God, you’ve been here for not even a minute, and you're blabbing on like a maniac already.” He blinked, his face deadpanned as he looked at you. “Why are you so concerned? Did the date go well?”
You groaned dramatically, tossing off your sneakers, and balancing yourself on the back of your desk chair. “He asked me for another date, but I know damn well what that means, and I can't let him find out that I am a twenty-something-year-old virgin that’s only ever kissed books and my mother.”
Jongho looked like he was about to burst out laughing at your desperate words, biting the inside of his cheek. He managed to squeak out, “Oh, I think you’re a lost cause,” he giggled. Giggled.
“This is not funny. You're no help,” you groaned, tossing your head back as you walked to your closet—when a perfect idea came to you.
“Wait a damn minute–”
“What is it now?” Jongho sat up on your bed, legs dangling off the side.
You turned around sharply, facing him, eyes wide with mischief. His eyes widened at your expression.
“Lend me your lips,” you said, walking up to him, but he leaned back in confusion, his arms holding himself behind him.
“What?” He scoffed, unable to meet your gaze. “The hell do you mean?”
You leaned over him on the bed, him unable to lean any further back without falling. You held yourself up on both sides of him. “Oh, come on. Just once. You can help me learn how to kiss. Who else could?”
He furrowed his brows. “You’re crazy.”
“I know,” you shrugged. “But I’d rather die than embarrass myself.”
“You do know,” He started, letting out a sigh. “That friends don't kiss each other? Or did you miss that memo?”
“I swear it won't mean anything,” you pleaded, knowing you were acting crazy, immature, whatever.
Jongho huffed, leaning forward, but grabbing your shoulders to move you away. “Listen,” he sighed, meeting your eyes. “Why don't you go ask San or Mingi?”
“Because San scares me,” you shrugged. “He’d probably eat me. And Mingi is….Mingi….”
“What does that even mean—”
“For fuck’s sake, Jongie,” you grabbed his shoulders. “Is this asking too much? We’ve been best friends for so long. How would something so trivial as a kiss mess with it?”
Jongho looked like he had something to say—a lot to say, actually. But he stayed quiet, sighing, as he looked up at you from his seated position on the bed.
“Okay, but if I have to kiss someone as filthy as you,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “What do I get out of it?”
You hummed. “Hmm. well, what do you want?”
He smiled mischievously. “Do my paper for me. For my lit class.”
“Easy, done,” you leaned forward. “Now gimme your lips—”
“Ah ah ah, slow down,” he scoffed. “You can't just toss yourself into the kiss. You have to lead into it.”
“Got it,” you blinked, looking into his golden brown eyes, noticing how…nice they were. “How do I do that?”
“Well, I bet he’ll try to kiss you first,” Jongho ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair, matching his eyes. You took note of it, too. He stood up, causing you to subconsciously step away from him. You both now stood in the middle of your dorm room, the room dimly lit by your desk lamp, the warm hue coloring the tanned skin of his face.
“Okay,” you nodded, almost freaking yourself out for noticing his details, the slight curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead.
Jongho’s calloused hand slowly, hesitantly, moved towards your face. You watched his eyes as his fingertips brushed your skin, watching them scrunch, watching them focus on his movements. “Maybe he’d hold you like this,” he spoke softly, eyes jumping to yours, his hand twitching slightly.
“But what do I do?” you weakly jutted out, biting the corner of your bottom lip. “Do I…touch you—touch him, too?”
He shrugged, swallowing hard. “I mean, you do what comes naturally.”
He was so close. So close. It's not like you’ve never been closer to him, because you have, but something was suffocating. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
Maybe this is just how it’s supposed to feel.
You stared into his eyes, those brown eyes, those….sparkling, pretty eyes. You swallowed as his hand slid down to your chin, tilting it up softly.
There was an unknown emotion dancing in his gaze. You were extremely aware of the spark that was setting off from his touch.
He leaned in closer, and as he got closer and closer, you felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest. You heard it in your ears, felt your stomach tighten.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said hushedly. You noticed that the tips of his ears were flushed red, and a dusting of the color was across his cheeks. When he pressed his lips to yours, you widened your eyes from the feeling, then shut them to savor it.
His mouth moved across yours, you felt the warmth of his lips, the softness of them. His other hand—the one that wasn't holding onto your chin, rested around your hip, his grip tightening.
You froze under his lips, unsure of how to do this. You moved your mouth against his, then, trying to move with his movements. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, unsure of what to do with them if you didn't do that. You felt a small smile in his kiss.
You pressed your body into him as his lips parted against yours. You felt the soft tickle of his shaky breaths against your skin—you could only imagine what you felt like to him.
He parted from you, only slightly, and took a sharp inhale. You still had your eyes shut tight, lips parted, as you got lost in the feeling.
You opened them, meeting his gaze, meeting that heart-shattering look he had. His lips were red like his ears, like his cheeks. His eyes were hazy, his hands still on you. You felt your heart crumbling inside you.
Without another word, you leaned back up to him, awkwardly wrapping your hand around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. He shut his eyes, and let out a pleasured sound, stirring something, awakening something inside.
You kissed him this time, even knowing that you had no idea what you were doing. You just trusted these instincts you were feeling, the emotions that were overtaking your mind. Your body told you to part your lips against his sweet lips, to savor the slightly salty taste against them. To lean into his body. You couldn't help but allow yourself to touch his waist, gliding your hand down his abs, his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten under your touch.
He sighed into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist, his fingertips brushing the bare skin under your blouse. His lips felt so good, so soft, so electrifying. This feeling was unlike any other, you were beginning to lose your breath, your senses, your mind.
And when you let out a little moan—without intending to, you were shocked back to reality. You pulled away from him quickly, moving your hands to your sides, trying to catch your breath. Jongho was also huffing, begging for oxygen, as he stood in front of you. His lips were bright red now; his eyes were wide.
“Ah, um,” you cleared your throat, forcing out a laugh. “So, did I do a good job?”
Jongho blinked, still looking out of it. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” He swallowed, nodded, and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mhm. For your first kiss, you did good.”
Good? Good? God, that felt euphoric. Like you were drugged, high, out in space. You still couldn't get your heartbeat to slow. “Great.” That was all you managed to squeak out, now that you were suddenly aware of the ability to just kiss him again. You realized that the air was odd now, that something felt different.
“You tasted like sweat,” you playfully added, letting out an awkward laugh as you gave him a shoulder punch. “Maybe I should've kissed San or Mingi instead.”
“I am a great kisser, I’ll have you know—” Jongho boasted, but you interrupted him.
“Pfft,” you waved a hand as if you weren't just about to hyperventilate from his kiss, his touch. “You sucked, you’re a horrible teacher—”
“Oh?” he huffed, gripping your arms just below your elbows. “I’ll kiss you again, I’ll prove it, I’ll do you one better—”
“Fine! More practice for me, anyway.”
Jongho let out a grumble of incoherent words before grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing his mouth to yours once more, his lips gliding against yours.
You grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tightening your grip as he pushed his tongue through your lips, into your mouth. You let out a sigh as he did it, his fingertips gripping your hair on the back of your head.
After a long few minutes of eating each other, He pulled away this time. He let go of you, his hands falling at his sides. “There,” he breathed. “Now you know how to handle a kiss like that. You know, just in case.”
You licked your bottom lip, sparks still flying around your body. You tasted him still, the saltiness of his sweat. You smelled the woodsy cologne he used, the minty taste of gum.
“Thanks,” you smiled, trying your best not to let these thoughts of him overtake you. “For helping me with this. You’re such a good best friend.”
“Ah, yeah,” he sniffed, forcing a smile. “I should, uh. I should go, I have something to submit before midnight, so,” He gulped, taking a step away from you. “But happy to help, of course. Now you owe me my paper.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” you scoffed, smiling playfully as he walked to the door to put on his shoes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he called out as he opened the door, leaving after you offered him a wave goodbye.
And once the door shut, you nearly lost your breath, falling onto your bed.
“Oh god,” you breathed, putting a hand to your mouth. “What was that? I—ugh!” you groaned, thrashing your legs around. “Why the fuck was he so hot? Get a grip, get a grip.” you ran your hands aggressively through your hair and gripping it. “Fuck I think my brain lost too much oxygen.”
You couldn't sleep one bit—not at all. Every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Jongho, and all you felt was him.
—
A few days pass and you barely see your best friend.
It's not that he’s ignoring you or vice versa; it's that he had an away game a good distance away and was off campus for a good few days.
While he was gone, you wondered if he was thinking the same way you were, if he felt something, too, or if it was just normal to have feelings during a kiss.
Irritated by your stupid mind, you were unsure about the feeling in your chest when you saw Jongho in the library; his baseball hat flipped backwards over his soft brown hair.
You would look odd if you ran away, right? Right.
You strutted over to where he was sitting. He always loved the window seats, mainly to people watch. You sat down in the seat across from him.
“When’d you get back?”
He lifted his eyes to yours. “Last night,” he grumbled, flipping a page in the book in front of him.
“What are you reading?” you leaned forward on your elbows.
He reacted much worse than you thought, flying backward into his chair, a terrified look on his face.
“Yo, I’m not gonna bite you, Jeez,” you raised a brow, moving your gaze to the book. “Oh, ew, anatomy. No thanks.”
He scoffed, picking off an invisible—or maybe an extremely small—piece of lint from his black hoodie. He didn't say anything in response, he just continued what he was doing.
“So,” you tried to continue the conversation with him without it turning to mush. “I’m gonna be going to Seonghwa’s frat tonight. There's a party or something.”
He looked at you with shock. “You’re going to a party?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” you rolled your eyes, leaning back to cross your arms around your chest. Jongho’s vision dipped to the movement.
“Well, given that you hate crowded places,” he trailed off, not really having another excuse. “I just can't see you going to—”
“y/n?” a voice softly murmured from your left, and both you and Jongho turned to see Seonghwa walking up to your table, a bag slung across his broad shoulder. His hair was pulled up in a half up half down do, little black strands framing his unfathomable face.
Jongho, in the corner of your eye, looked away from the tall basketball player, opting for the view outside the library.
“Seonghwa?” you smiled, uncrossing your arms to look less like a grumpy bitch. “What’s up?”
You didn't even look to see the irritation on Jongho’s face.
“I was coming in to study but then I saw you in the corner of my eye,” he smiled, beamed, really, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He then nodded to Jongho, offering him a smile, too. “Hey, Jongho.”
Your best friend managed to give him a smile back, although you knew his face all too well—that was a damn grimace. “Hey.”
You looked between the two boys as seonghwa spoke again. “Hey, me and y/n are gonna be at the party tonight. You wanna come? The other guys on the team will be there, too.”
“Well, I can't imagine San missing a function,” Jongho scoffed, cracking his knuckles aggressively. “But I guess I’ll come, too.”
You nearly dropped your jaw onto the floor.
“Really?” you interjected, shocked. “I can't imagine you going to a party—”
“Anyway,” Jongho cleared his throat, ignoring you. “What time?”
Seonghwa furrowed his brows as he tried to recall. “Uh, I think ten? It goes till two, no later,” He looked to you then. “Do you wanna go for some lunch?”
You blushed. Jongho huffed. “Oh, yes. That would be nice,” you smiled, to which Jongho rolled his eyes in response. You stood up from your seat and offered your best friend a playful wink. “See you tonight, jongie.”
When you walked away, seonghwa slugged an arm around your shoulder on the way out. Jongho, still in his seat, tightened his grip on the textbook as he watched you leave.
And then he couldn't even enjoy people-watching when he saw you walk down the sidewalk with that string bean.
—
You didn't hear from jongho the rest of the day, and even when ten o’clock came, he was M.I.A. You shrugged it off, trying too hard to ignore the tug in your chest, the desire to go to his room and kiss him again.
You made it to the frat house that sat on the end of the Greek life strip in town. It was a tall, skinny building that looked way too nice to be lived in by a bunch of boys. You made sure to wear your filthy Converse, knowing damn well whether booze, puke, or a plethora of other fluids would end up all over them. Despite not going to many parties in your lifetime, you still had common sense.
You walked into the house, getting bombarded with tons of odd smells, some good and some bad. The interior was dark, lit with random colored lights that danced all over the walls, the people.
Loud, ungodly music blared through oddly positioned speakers in the wall, and there was a sea of people talking and carrying on. You weren't sure how the fuck they could hear each other over the awful music.
You walked further into the house, making a B-line to where you assumed the alcohol was. There was a bunch of beer cans, and you grabbed one with ease, cracking it open and chugging it like a champ. However, the beer sucked ass, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. You must've made a face.
“Icky?” Seonghwa’s smooth voice envelopes you with comfort.
You turn to him, offering him a sincere smile. He looked great, as always, with his hair growing even longer. “Very, but if it gets me drunk, I’ll handle it.”
“So brave,” he chuckled, standing closer to you by the second. Your mind wanders to the thought of him touching you. Would it feel as good as it did with Jongho? Would his hands be gentle? Would his lips taste as sweet?
His hand on the small of your back interrupted your thoughts.
You needed to be drunk. Quick, so you can handle these stupid ideas.
“It’s good to see you here,” he starts, but you can't help but look at his lips. You weren't thinking about them—no, rather, you were thinking of Jongho’s. Would Seonghwa feel the same?
You took another sip of your drink to get the last drop before grabbing another. “Do they have something else? This shit sucks.”
Seonghwa looked at you for a long moment before nodding in a direction. “There’s vodka in the cabinet if you want it?”
You let out a sigh of relief, but still, you kept drinking the shitty beer. “Yes, god, yes.”
After you got ahold of the vodka, you regretted your choice against the beer.
You must've blacked out for a bit—you don't remember how you got in the living room, how you got onto Seonghwa’s lap, how his lips were on your neck. You delightfully craned your neck to feel it better, to feel his hot breaths, his hands on your waist. However, when you opened your eyes, you realized that you were imagining someone else under you.
You pulled away from him, but you didn't get off him. You looked into his eyes, seeing the desire drip from them. You were too messed up—blame that on your shitty tolerance, to care what you were doing right now. “Can I try something?” you fluttered your eyelashes, not meaning it in a sultry way, but it came out that way.
“Of course,” Seonghwa mused, a little smile prickling at his lips.
Lips that you wanted to kiss—not because you needed to, but because you needed to see something, feel something—have something to compare to that ethereal experience you had with your best friend.
And at his approval, you leaned forward, doing everything that you were taught, and pressed your lips to Seonghwa’s. He responded well, gripping the back of your head as he kissed you back, and you slid your tongue in his mouth, half expecting to feel something, anything.
But there you were, imagining Jongho, his smell, his taste, the way he cautiously touched you and held you. Nothing can compare, not even this.
You pulled away from him, eyebrows raised, mouth agape. He looked confused at your reaction but put on a sloppy smile. “Everything okay?”
You were going to say no. you were going to cry out and say that you were going to die because you kept thinking about Jongho. You couldn't even kiss a hot guy, a guy you wanted to date, without thinking how much better it felt with Jongho. Everything felt better with him. It was comfortable, unnerving, exciting, all at the same time.
You smiled, but with how drunk you were, you could assume that it looked like a grimace. “I uh, yeah, I just gotta….go do something—-bye,” you huffed out, offering him a little, awkward wave, before you ran out of the spinning room.
You ended up on the back porch, not sure how you got there, but the world was spinning. Your chest was aching. You needed air, anything, you needed to breathe.
The cool air hit you just right, enveloping your lungs, helping you breathe. Your skin was hot, flaming underneath your clothes, and you were sure your cheeks were bright red. After noticing a couple making out in the corner, you grimaced and ran back into the house.
God, what a shitshow.
You avoided seonghwa narrowly, making your way up the creaky, thin staircase to get your own space. You opened the first door you got to, tossed yourself in, and slammed your back against the door with a sigh of relief.
That relief didn't last long.
“y/n, what the hell?” Jongho nearly screeched, turning his body slightly as he stood over the toilet, zipping up his pants in a frenzy. “The fuck? Don't you know how to knock?”
You didn't say anything. You just took a deep breath, your gaze falling over him.
“y/n?” He repeated, standing a bit awkwardly on the other side of the room, leaning over to flush the toilet. He looked a bit rough around the edges as he washed his hands quickly, looking over at you as he dried them. He walked up to you now, hesitantly, unsure about your expression.
You fiddled with your fingers as the world slowed around you.
“Are you gonna talk?” He scoffed playfully, his eyes raking your body, forcing themselves up to your face. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you swallowed, shaking your head, the door behind you the only thing holding you up.
He gave you a concerned look, running a damp hand through his silky hair, and you couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to rake your hands through it, too. “No, that you're not okay, or no, that you’re not gonna talk?
You blinked. “....yes.”
He sighed. His eyes looked hazy, not quite to the extent yours probably looked, but still, he was not in his right mind, either. You took a shaky breath, watching those brown irises fall to your lips, to your chest.
You clench your fingers together, your body, dying to do something your heart would regret. You swallowed hard, sighing.
“Aren’t you acting like this because you have something to say?” He asked, his words dripping like honey from his lips.
You shook your head. “No.”
He looked like he was fighting a smile. “I think you are.”
“No, I’m not–I’m not acting like this because I have something to say.” Your mind was already screaming at you, begging you not to do anything. Begging you not to say anything. “Because I want to do something.”
The air was stuffy. The bathroom was filthy, the window was cracked open, blowing in a slight breeze, gently running up your arms, sending chills down your spine.
Jongho tilted his head. “To do what?”
The vodka in your basically vodka-virgin body was bubbling under your skin, infiltrating your mind, your blood. It was taking control over your every move, every idea, everything. So when he asked you that, when he looked like the most beautiful person in the world as he spoke, with his pretty ass hair and his lips and his flushed cheeks, you knew what you wanted to do.
“To kiss you,” you didn't stutter. You stayed put against the door despite your words. “I just wanna do it again. Every time I look at you, I want to do it.”
Jongho’s eyes widened, but he didn't run away like you thought he would. He just stood there, breathlessly, his hands at his sides and his mouth parted. It’s like he wanted to do it too, with the way his fingers twitched as you spoke, with the way his lips almost curled up completely.
You pushed off the door, taking a step towards him. When he didn't back away, you took another step. You were so close to him that you were able to feel the soft, hot breaths he was letting out against your skin. His breath smelled like that disgusting beer, but it didn't matter at all—actually, you wanted to taste it on his lips, on his tongue.
You reached out a hand, the room spinning around you. Your fingertips met his cheek, his hot skin. You felt a surge of electricity run through your body as you touched him, as you looked into his eyes. His gaze was unlike anything else you have ever seen. His eyes were zeroed in on you, shutting slowly as you rubbed your hand against his skin. He let out a soft breath, a content sigh, and his eyes were on yours again.
He took in a breath, eyes on your lips. You were too drunk to think about how the look on his face made no sense—friends shouldn't look at each other the way he was looking at you.
You leaned forward, and when he didn't flinch away, when he actually leaned forward as well, you smiled to yourself, and pressed your lips to his.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body to yours. His hips knocked into yours, his mouth parting, swallowing you whole. He shoved you against the sink, the countertop stabbing the small of your back, but you felt absolutely no pain. You arched your body into his, as if it were instinct, and his hands ravaged your bare skin. He was desperate, trying to catch his breath as best he could while he kissed you.
Your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers tightening in his brown hair. He let out a little moan into your mouth, his hands caging you in against the sink. Accidentally, his forehead bumped yours, causing you to bite his lip.
You pulled away, but just for a moment, smiling at him, at the redness of his lips from your gloss and your bite. He looked breathtaking in front of you, so human, so perfect. So you leaned in to kiss him again, nose knocking into his, but it didn't matter if you were sloppy. It just mattered that he was the one you were kissing.
“y/n,” he breathed against your lips, his hands now on your hips, one curving around your ass. “We shouldn't be doing this—”
“Shh,” you hissed, slapping his shoulder, keeping your lips against his. “I don't care right now.”
You deepened the kiss, and as he pressed up against you, you felt something hard press into you; you felt a deep rumble from him into your mouth. The pool between your thighs.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. Mingi stood there, his jaw down to the floor, as he took in the scene in front of him. Jongho must not have heard the door, as his hands were still clawing at you like a goddamn animal, his lips on your neck now. You quickly gripped Jongho’s shoulders and pushed him away.
“What? You just said—” He took notice of where you were looking, turning his head to see Mingi’s shocked expression. “Oh.”
“Oh, dear god!” Mingi looked like he couldn't hide the smile peeking through his lips. “I knew it!”
Jongho took a whole century taking his hands off you, finally stepping away, leaving you cold, empty. “It’s not what you think—”
Mingi threw his hands up in the air, smirking. “Ay, I didn't see anything. Carry on.”
With one last look, Mingi shut the door, leaving you alone with Jongho. The feeling in the room was completely different from a moment ago.
“I….” he started, then sighed, unable to look at you. “I gotta go.”
“Jongho—” You went to move toward him, but he left the bathroom as quickly as he could, stumbling into the doorframe, and out of sight. You were left to your own devices, standing in the middle of the bathroom, hair a mess, lips bright and painful, and a mark on your neck from your best friend.
If you could call him that…
—
It’s as if he disappeared.
You haven't seen Jongho in days. You were even too nervous to go to his room this time, not knowing how to approach him after kissing him like that. After you felt the hardness of his cock against your stomach. The wetness between your thighs. Something you have never felt before.
After a few, empty, lonely nights in your room, you took the initiative to go find him at the late hour of midnight—To ask if he feels this intense craving for you just like you do for him. But when you arrived at his dorm, San told you he wasn't there.
“He’s been super sick. I thought he was with you,” He shrugged, confused.
“He’s sick?” your eyes widened.
San nodded, messy hair from sleep. “Sorry, maybe he’s with Mingi?”
After your encounter with San, you made your way to Mingi’s dorm. But, once again, Jongho was nowhere to be found.
So you went to the only place you thought to look.
And there he was, under the bright lights, taking a shot at the three-point line on the courts near the rec center. He missed the shot and stood there a moment before going to grab his rebound.
But the ball rolled to where you were, as if it meant to. Jongho stood still as you grabbed the ball.
He stayed silent. You weren't sure whether to move closer or just pass him the ball back.
“Are you going to give me it?” He spoke blandly, sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air surrounding him.
You sighed, putting the ball under your arm. “Jongho, it’s cold out here.”
He sniffed, his nose red. He didn't look at you. “Just give me the ball, dammit.”
You blinked, watching the cold air show as you exhaled. “Why are you ignoring me?”
He rolled his eyes, taking in a breath. “Dammit, y/n—”
“You’re doing it on purpose,” you began to dribble the ball—very sloppily, but it didn't matter. You dribbled past him towards the hoop, tossing the ball up, watching it go through the net. “Ignoring me, I mean.”
“No, I’m not,” he huffed, moving to grab the ball from your shot. He made his way back up to the top of the key, away from you.
“Yes, you are.” you walked up to him, putting your hand out so he couldn't shoot. “Just be honest!”
With a huff of cold air, jongho tossed the ball away, an aggravated look on his face. “For fuck’s sake, y/n, Yes. I’m annoyed.”
You blinked, standing only a few feet away from him. “Why?” you asked, probably stupidly, given the irritated look on his face.
He sighed, tightening his hands into fists. “...Because….because I’m a man, too, you know.” he started, running his hands through his hair aggressively, clenching his jaw. “ You change in front of me, kiss me, do everything that causes my brain to spin. I’m sick of acting like I'm okay with it.”
You stood there, frozen. The air felt even colder as winter wrapped its arms around your bare skin.
“Does that mean you didn't like it?” you wondered out loud, possibly too immature, too inexperienced. You had no idea what you were feeling, why you felt this way. All you knew is that you wanted to spend every moment with him, to kiss him, to lay in bed with him. Things you did normally, but things felt different.
“Didn't like what?” He asked, his eyes wide.
“The kiss,” you looked into his eyes. “The kisses.”
Jongho stood tensely, unsure of what to do. You watched his eyes flicker up to the sky as little flurries fell, catching themselves in his hair.
“y/n,” he took a sharp breath in. “don't you get it? I can't kiss you. You can't kiss me. You can't….touch me like that, change in front of me, and not expect me to get flustered!” He nearly shouted the last part, and turned to the side away from you, aggravated beyond words.
“I….I’m sorry,” you spoke out, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry that I feel this way—”
“Feel what?” he scoffed, turning back to you, a pained smirk on his lips. “You should be sorry for making me feel this….for causing me so many headaches, for god sake why the fuck am I out here when it’s fucking snowing, jesus christ you piss me off—”
“Jongho,” you interrupted his freakout, his word vomit. He stared at you with those beautiful eyes of his. “What are you trying to say?” you spoke in a small voice.
His eyes were frantic, going back and forth from eye to eye. “I…. can't do this.”
“Do what?” you felt the flurries dance against your skin, dance as they fell around you.
“I can't act like your friend anymore.” He bit his lip. “You have no idea what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me.”
You took a step closer, but he backed away.
“I don't understand—”
“Just go,” He pleaded.
“You do things to me too!” you groaned, finally done with his attitude. “Will you knock it off? You’re not the only one confused here—”
“Oh, I confuse you?” He looked at you like you had two heads. “I’m sorry, I only kissed you because you were trying to get another guy. I kissed you so you could know how to do it, but you want to know something?” He paused, suddenly right up on you, the space gone between you. “I haven't kissed anyone either. I just…you. It’s just been you! I didn't know what I was doing, either!”
“Is that so bad?” you pleaded, your eyes bleeding into his. “Is it so bad that you had to kiss me? Should I apologize for wanting to do it again? That I haven't stopped thinking about you since?” you frantically looked into his eyes.
“Just…” Jongho sighed, his eyes a bit watery. “Lleave me be.”
The look on his face was enough. You took a step back, and then another.
“I won't apologize for my feelings, for whatever this feeling is,” you admitted. “But I am sorry I caused you trouble.” before you left him there, you looked up to him once more, snow falling around you. “Good luck at your game, tomorrow.”
You turned on your heel, not understanding a single thing that just unfolded, that was just said. He made no sense; you made none, either. It was just a bunch of words, unnecessary words, rifting your friendship. But one thing was for certain—you couldn't repair this without a few missing pieces.
Jongho stood as still as a statue as he watched you walk away.
—
You sat on the bench in your cheerleading uniform, your heart beating a mile a minute as you watched the game unfold in front of you.
It was approaching halftime. Jongho was sprinting down the sideline, limping slightly as he moved. He passed the ball beautifully to San, who was wide open for the layup.
You couldn't focus on anything—didn't even cheer when San made the shot. You just sat and stared into space, your eyes following jongho, watching his wince as he backed up down the court.
“He’s hurt,” you muttered under your breath, stomach tightening.
Jongho continued playing his heart out, but you knew something was wrong. However, as halftime came, he walked away from the court just fine and into the locker room, not giving you a single passing glance as he walked past you. Seonghwa did, however, but you weren't even paying attention to that.
After a few long moments, the team came back out. You had to cheer, but your heart wasn't in it. Jongho, once again, walked right by you, and when you were about to jump up and ignore everything that was said yesterday to make sure you were okay, the buzzer rang.
The game went on, the score going back and forth until the last quarter. Jongho stood at mid-court, calling a play, but the guy guarding him was aggressive. He tried to make a move around him, squeaking his sneakers against the hardwood, but it was no use. The defender followed him with ease, sliding his feet in perfect position.
The gym was in hysterics as Jongho pushed for the bucket, taking a side step into a euro step, but suddenly, oh so suddenly, Jongho crashed to the ground in a thud before getting the shot off.
The gym went silent. Jongho hissed in pain, his eyebrows knit tight. The athletic trainer ran out to see him as the game was put on hold with less than a minute to go. You stood up, not even realizing what you were doing. All you could feel was a pain in your chest as you saw him hurt, the intense feeling to take his pain away. You watched in despair as he was lifted off the floor, as he was carried out of the gym.
You swallowed hard, your ears ringing. Your teammates tried to get you focused, as the game was going to continue, but you jumped up and pushed through, making your way to the locker room desperately.
“Jongho?” you panted, turning the corner to enter the boy's locker room. You sucked in a breath as you see him in pain, lying down on the bench, a few others around him as he nearly cried in pain.
“Jongho!” you cried out, rushing to his side. His eyes were frantic, wide, a mess. The trainer took off his knee brace slowly as you approached. “Oh my god, are you okay?”
Jongho met your gaze through his watery eyes, every other emotion gone other than…whatever this was. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he saw you. You knelt down next to him, gripping his hand, and he held yours tighter.
“y/n,” he murmured, sucking in a sharp breath as the trainer surveyed his leg. “Did I…did I do it again? Please tell me I didn't—”
You looked at the man who was assessing his injury. “Did he tear it again?” you panicked, remembering how awful this was for him back then. How traumatizing it was, how horrible it was for him to gain his strength again. You couldn't stand to see him in pain.
“I…I don't know,” the man admitted. “It’s too swollen to tell. You’ll need to get this checked out—”
“Goddammit,” Jongho hissed, shutting his eyes tightly, and swallowing hard. That was when you realized that it might not even be the pain from the injury—no, it was his trauma. The memory of his hard work all down the drain.
“I’m here,” you breathed, tucking his hair behind his ear and away from his face. “It’ll be okay.”
The buzzer rang, and screams followed. Jongho looked at you, not a care in the world other than that you were there with him, just like before.
“You’ll be alright,” you repeated softly, your heart aching at his pain. “This will be okay.”
—
“From the MRI, it looks like everything is still intact,” the doctor spoke with a tone of arrogance. “You did weaken your surgical graft, however. You’ll need some PT and rest.”
Jongho stared down at his leg, his hand still gripping yours. He breathed a sigh of relief but didn't say anything else.
“I’ll write up a referral for that, so just hold on a moment.”
You were left in silence in the middle of the emergency room, Jongho sitting up straight on the bed with a big icepack on top of his knee. He was starting right at it, his lips downturned.
You wanted to ease his troubles. To make him feel better. Nothing felt worse than seeing him like this.
You didn't know what to say. You really couldn't say anything. You were so overwhelmed with the pain you felt as you looked at him as if it were your own. You hated his tears that begged to fall and never did.
“Hey,” you mumbled softly, squeezing his hand. It took him a minute to move his gaze to you, and when he did, his eyes spoke a thousand words. “See? It will be okay.”
He sighed, his face contorting as he fought his tears. “I…I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you weren't thinking of anything else other than what was in front of you. You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles, trying to soothe him.
“For how I acted.” He looked down at your hands, how yours was touching his, how his fingers were tight around yours. He didn't want to let go—neither did you. “I was just upset.”
“I know,” you nodded, swallowing. “I was, too.”
He looked into your eyes. “y/n, I…” he paused, the beeping of his heart rate speeding up in the background. “I just don't know why I acted like that I…I guess I got caught up in how I feel about you, and it confused me.”
You blinked. “How do you feel about me?”
He let out an uneasy laugh. “Isn't it obvious?”
You shook your head. “I… don't really know much of anything. Much of these feelings,” you acknowledged, biting your bottom lip anxiously.
He let out a genuine laugh. “Me too.”
“So, how do you feel?” You tucked a piece of your hair that fell loose from your bow, suddenly aware of how much of a wreck you probably looked like. You were still in your cheer uniform, Jongho in his basketball one, and you were sure you had smeared mascara everywhere. “About me, I mean.”
He took in a sharp breath. “This isn't fair, I’m like, high from pain meds. I don't know what i’m saying.”
You smiled widely, feeling such immense love for the man in front of you.
Oh shit.
Are you….in love?
“All I know is that I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you,” He chuckled anxiously. “I don't understand why, and it's just increasingly worse after you keep kissing me, it's making my head spin.”
Jongho yawned slightly after his somewhat confession, his eyes fluttering.
He was so pretty. So, so pretty. You wanted to sleep with him. Next to him, cuddle with him, kiss his face, his eyelids, his cheeks, his everything. You wanted him to do everything to you that you dreamed of.
Oh fuck, you definitely are in love with him.
“Holy fuck—” you paused, staring at him, wide eyed at your realization.
“What?” He furrowed his brows.
You tried to control your overwhelming thoughts. “I just realized something…” you met his gaze, holding onto it tightly. “Are we…are we in love? I mean, I think at least I might be—”
“Holy shit, we might be,” Jongho gulped, a knowing smile curling at his lips. As if he knew this, at least on his end, for much longer than you have. He looked at you, then at his leg, and back at you. “Are you in love with me?”
“I think so?” you questioned, your chest aching. Jongho’s heart began to beat faster and faster, as seen on the monitor next to him. You leaned towards him, blushing as his heart rate jumped over one hundred.
Jongho let out an anxious laugh. “You sound super confident.”
You would've kissed him right then and there, prove to him that you loved him, if it wasn't for that awful doctor.
You helped jongho hobble out of the hospital, his leg wrapped in ice and his arms wrapped around you. You were hyper aware of the smell of sweat, the light remnant of his woodsy cologne. You heard his breath hitch as your fingertips curled around his arm as you walked toward the street for a cab.
“God, standing up really messed me up.” he wobbled a bit. “I don't know what they gave me, but fuck, I feel wonderful,” he giggled, nudging his head into the crook of your neck.
There was a mix of comfort and chaos as you got in the cab, his head on your shoulder, his hair a mess. His arm was slung over you, his eyes closed, his lips parted against your collarbone. He felt comforting, yes, but also his damn lips started to move against your skin.
“Jongho,” you breathed, trying to keep quiet as the cab driver carried on. “Stop it—”
“Mmmh,” he groaned into your neck, kissing it again, trailing up towards your jawline.
“The fuck, did they give you viagra?” you nearly choked as his hand that was around your shoulder fell to your waist, tightening on the curve above your hip. His hand moved lower, past your hip, meeting the curve right before he could reach your—
“Hey,” you whisper yelled, smacking his cheek lightly.
He opened his eyes, those brown irises sparkling despite the dark car. “Oh, its y/n,” he smiled, meeting your gaze, but you watched it fall to your lips. “You look pretty.”
You scoffed. “You don't know what you're talking about right now—”
“Oh, I do,” he smiled lopsidedly, his hand now coming up to cradle your cheek. “I know what i’m doing.”
You smirked. “I think you’re loopy.”
“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, smiling, his eyes curving into smiles too. “But I know what I want to do.”
You tilted your head, raising your brows. “And what’s that?”
He smiled villianously, teeth barred. “Do you really want to know?”
You held in your laugh, but managed to nod.
He took in a breath, letting it out in an exaggerated sigh. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he huffed, his head falling right back onto your shoulder. “So, so bad. I’ve always wanted to—”
“Jongho,” you blinked. “You’re high from pain meds, you don't know what you're—”
“Oh, but I do know,” he sat up quickly, eyes dazed, hair a mess on top of his head. He reached out a hand, tucking your hair behind your ears with a boyish smile. He focused on your face, on your eyes, your lips. His expression changed, his smile falling. “I wanted to tell you about how I feel about you.”
You bit your lip. “You did.”
He waved a hand, flopping it around. “Nah, I didn't.”
“Yes, don't you remember?” you scoffed playfully. “We just had this whole talk like twenty minutes ago—”
“Aye, stop it, I had something to say but now I forgot!” he groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. He then turned his head to your direction. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”
“You just did,” you smiled.
“Oh, that’s right.” he swallowed, looking at your lips. “Did I ever tell you that I want to kiss you? Like, all the time?”
You shook your head, giving up on the fight against his high ass.
“Well, I just want to kiss you, over and over again, and then when you started kissing me, I think I went crazy,” he blinked slowly, eyes covering every inch of your face. He leaned forward. “You really fucked me up, you know?”
You frowned. “Did I?”
“Pfft,” he huffed. “Are you kidding? You would change in front of me, lay in bed with me, touch me, everything I….” he swallowed hard. “How was I supposed to react to your tits? Your ass? You think i’ve never gotten hard from it?” you wanted to shut his nonsense up, but he kept going on. “I’ve had to literally leave just to jack off so you didn't find out—”
“Woah, woah,” you rose your eyebvrows. “You’re a mess right now, youll regret what you’re saying tomorrow—”
“I wont,” he sniffed, eyes meeting yours. “I’m done with acting like I don't think about you naked—”
“Jongho, shut it, we’re not alone—”
“We should be alone so I can do everything I want to you,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple. “God, I want to do everything to you.”
You wanted to push him away. You wanted to tell him no—but…his lips, his words, his breath felt so good, so intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, to the corner of your lips. “Can we fuck now?”
You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “The hell is wrong with you? We’re in a cab—”
He ignored you, his lips continuing to find their way around your face. “When we get back?”
You looked down at his knee, how it was wrapped, how much pain it had caused him. “You just hurt your leg, and you’re not in your right mind.”
“Oh, i’m completely in my right mind,” he kissed your ear, letting a little breath of air tickle you. “I’ve wanted this forever.”
You sighed, your breath shaking, your chest tight. You had absolutely no experience—you’ve never had sex, never did anything with a man other than what you were doing now, and the little kiss you gave seonghwa.
“I’m a virgin,” you whispered softly, embarrased. However, you felt the most comfortable with jongho. He was your everything.
“So am I,” he admitted, smiling. “We can learn together.”
“God, we’re so lame,” you breathed, smiling.
Jongho, however, did not care about any words. He nuzzled into your collarbone, pressing a kiss there, over and over again.
“So, does that mean we can have sex?”
—
You assisted jongho into your building, helping him into the elevator and pressing your floor while he leaned against the wall.
The silence was deafening. You were sure he was able to hear your heart beat through your chest.
As the doors closed, you let a sigh out.
“y/n,” he breathed. Behind you, his eyes were on you.
“Hm?” you hummed, afraid to turn to him, afraid of what you would do, what he would do.
“I love you,” he spoke.
You’ve both basically said it only an hour before. Only then, it didn't feel real. Now, maybe it was the fact that Jongho’s eyes have cleared up, his expression was raw. He looked nervous, he looked anxious. This was all new, all foreign—but Jongho wasn't new, wasn't different. He’s always been him, been by your side, your rock, your everything.
“I….love you too, dummy.”
When the elevator reached your floor, it took you a second to move. You helped him down the hall, and when you reached your door, you paused.
“Do you…want to…” you trailed off, unsure if that was only the drugs talking earlier.
When you turned to jongho, he had a sinister smile on his face.
“You mean,” he nodded toward your room. “What I think you mean?”
“Well, jeez,” you scoffed, turning around to open your door. “As if you weren't the one all over me in the cab—”
A second later, you both stood in the entrance of your room, both of your hearts beating like crazy.
He entered the room after you, slowly shutting the door. The room was dark—you weren't even trying to turn the lights on.
You turned to jongho, watching him stand with his fists at his sides, his fingers gripping the fabric of his basketball shorts.
“How do we…” you took in a sharp breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were wide, dripping with love, lust, with so much. You weren't sure if they always looked like that, if they looked at you like that. Those eyes….
“Let’s just, he winced a bit as he stepped closer. “Just stay where you are.”
When he got close enough, you saw the worry in his expression. The hesitancy, the love. He looked up, and his eyes spoke a thousand unspeakable words. His hand reached out, pausing at the hem of your cheerleading uniform.
You let out an anxious laugh at his face, as he looked so conflicted. You didn't say anything though, and after a moment, he tugged your top right over your head, grinning like a goofball at the red lacy bra you had on.
“For me?” he murmured, his hand subconsciously drifting to run over your skin, his fingertips pressing against the thin fabric of your bra. He met your gaze, his jaw tightening.
You reached for his top now, the loose jersey easily pulling over his head—the jersey that was hiding the soft curves of muscle. You’ve seen him shirtless many times, an unimaginable amount of times—but this time, it was different. You ran a hand down the pane of his chest, across the mounds of muscle, down his soft but muscular frame. He was perfect, absolutely sexy, breathtaking, gorgeous.
He shivered under your touch, meeting your gaze. He moved to take his shorts off, but winced. “Hold on, i’ll take them off—” but you both leaned down at the same time, crashing your heads together, causing a storm of laughter.
“God, we’re so not good at this,” He chuckled, smiling bright even in the dark room.
“No, not really,” you grinned, reaching down at his hips, pulling his shorts off, tugging a bit at the erection that bulged out. You held in your pride, the fact that he was already so turned on by just taking your clothes off.
His shorts fell down to his ankles, his underwear with them, leaving him completely naked, completely vulnerable in front of you. He looked at you with those damn eyes, those irises that held every emotion possible for you.
You took a second to take him in, his thickness, his length. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware that…that would go inside you, and it would probably tear your virgin self to shreds.
He then gripped the waistband of your skirt, tugging you to him. He was slightly taller than you, so when your body hit his, you felt his cock against your lower stomach, feeling a pulsing ache in your body. His fingers glided against the bare skin of your waist as he pulled your skirt over your hips, and when they fell, you were left standing in your mismatched underwear, begging him to take it off of you, too.
However, he just stood there like a deer in headlights, staring at the curves of your body, and the smoothness of your skin. His mouth parted, his eyes grew wide, and his hands twitched to touch you, to ravage you, to swallow you whole as if you were roadkill and he was a vulture.
An anxious vulture.
He reached around you, the heat of his body warming you, and his hands clasped around the clip of your bra. He fiddled with it for a good moment, and as he started getting irritated that he couldn't get it, you laughed. “Goddamn this thing has you locked up like fort knox—”
“Do you want me to get it—”
“No, no, i’ll be extremely embarassed, let me do it.” he continued to try to get it off you, and finally, it fell off you, onto the ground, and Jongho stood with a proud smile on his lips. “Fuck yeah, finally.”
But, right after his words of triumph, his eyes fell to your full breasts. His eyes widened, and he gave into his desires, letting himself grab one, calloused fingers gliding against your nipple.
“Oh, fuck y/n,” he breathed, both his hands coming up to cradle your breasts, to feel you up. He took in a breath, eyes unable to leave your body. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
He dipped his head, taking in a breast into his mouth, flicking his tongue over your nipple. You felt your stomach tighten, felt your wetness pool at your thighs. He looked up to your eyes as he sucked, and when he saw your ecstatic expression, he quickly pulled away.
He didn't spare an extra second to claw at your underwear, satisfyingly watching them fall to the ground, leaving you both completely naked in the middle of the room. He looked at you, love dripping from his chocolate eyes.
And thats when you gripped the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I don't do this very well,” you admitted, twirling your fingers in his hair. He didn't seem to even hear what you said as his eyes remained on your lips.
“God, we cant be friends anymore,” he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, he hesitated, lips hovering over yours, his breath shaky, tangling with yours. “Definetly not, fuck.”
You tilted your chin forward, lips so close, so so close. His hands found your hips, fingernails leaving marks in your skin.
And with one last look into your eyes, jongho sighed, letting go of everything. He pressed his soft lips to yours, taking you in like he hasn't kissed you before. Like he’s always wanted to. He breathed into you, moving his hands to cradle your face, to get as close to you as possible.
You arched your body against his, bucking your hips into his, and he grunted in response. You fell backwards onto the bed, him on top of you, but as you fell, he bit your lip so hard you let out a little yelp.
“Oh shit,” he gasped, parting from you, eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? Did that hurt? I didn't mean to do that—-”
“Shh, shut your face,” you patted him on the cheek, giggling at his reaction.
He adjusted himself on top of you. “Here, make sure you’re head’s on your pillow, I want you to be comfortable.” he adjusted you, too, and he looked so sincere and serious it made you laugh. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, but couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, too. “Stop, this is serious.”
You laughed even more. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just really cute.” you watched his eyes twinkle as he looked at you. “And you look so pretty on top of me.”
He smirked, holding back his giggle. “Stop it.”
“I’m just saying,” you reached a hand out to wrap around his neck, tugging his lips right back down to yours, kissing him softly. “Mhm. I cant get enough of this.”
He smiled into the kiss. “Me neither, I cant believe you’re under me right now.”
You couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his dick against your thighs, of your skin against his. You looked into his eyes, looked at how they were looking at you, how he held himself over you.
And then, after a look of utter love, he smiled and kissed you. This time, he stuck his tongue into your mouth, running over the ridges of the roof of your mouth. You opened your mouth wider, deepening the kiss, knocking your nose against his.
His lips parted as he gasped for air, his chest heaved against yours. His hand delicately glided up your ribs, meeting the skin of your breasts. He gripped your breast in his hand, moaning into your mouth, hips bucking into yours. You couldve sworn you felt his heartbeat through his chest as he made out with you, as his hands covered you. He pulled away only to make sure you still wanted this, and when you nodded, he reached down to line himself up with you. The concept of sex always felt so difficult. So worrisome, so new. But with jongho, it felt like you've done this forever.
“If it hurts, tell me,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you gently. “I’ll take care of you.”
You literally couldve came at those words. You swallowed hard, and forced out a nod.
He pecked your lips, smiling, kissing them again. His hands hesitated, not knowing what to touch as his tip pressed into your cunt, his breath shortening, sweat dripping down his forehead.
You reached out, gliding a hand across his cheek, across his lips, smiling up at him.
“I….” he hesitated before entering you. “Are you wet enough? Should I spit?”
He looked terrified. Absolutely terrified. So you ran a hand soothingly through his hair, watching his eyes shut tight in pleasure, in delight. “Don't worry about anything and just do it.”
“Okay,” he mumbled, letting out a little laugh. “Okay, okay.”
And then, his eyes bled into yours as he tilted his hips, pushing his cock slowly into you, so gently, as if he was terrified of hurting you. You watched his mouth part, watched his expression change to euphoria as he filled you, every inch sparking a new feeling.
He snapped his hips, his length fully in you, and you nearly cried out from the feeling. You moaned as he moved slowly, clawing at his shoulders, this feeling unlike anything else—your damn vibrator held nothing on Jongho.
He relaxed his expression, his eyes fluttering open, looking right down on you. You met his gaze as he moved in and out of you.
“Does it hurt, if it hurts, I can stop—”
“Shut the hell up and fuck me, jongho,” you grumbled, your hands finding a home on his hips, the feeling of them snapping under your hands sent you spiraling. You moaned as his dick reached a new spot, as you felt your walls tighten around him. You wanted to cry out, rip your hair out, tear at his skin as you felt the intense crave for him. The way he looked down on you fueled the fire in your hips, in your back. You felt an ache in your hips, slamming your head back, fighting the urge to claw the bedsheets.
But then you sae his grimace, and you frowned. “Oh my god, you’re knee, you’re in pain.”
He kept moving, but he was definitely in pain. “I-I think the meds wore off—”
Without thinking, you pushed him off you, making him roll over so now he was the one on th bottom. You straddled him, looking at his shocked expression, how his breaths quickened, how his cock twitched for you. To be inside you.
You had an unimaginable amount of knowledge from all your smutty books, so you might as well try to use what you know, right?
“y/n, what are you—”
“Let me please you,” you breathed, and with a slow, calculative movement, you sat on his dick, sliding his length into you, once again gaining the extreme pleasure of his expression and the absolute desperation he expressed. He gasped as you moved up and down on his cock, and he watched you, watched him dissapear into you. He slammed his head back into the pillow, his face contorting, moans fluttering through his lips, his eyebrows knitting together in pleasure and a million other things.
“God, fuck,” his hands gripped your hips as you rode him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his breaths shallow. He gasped for air. “You feel so good, oh my god. So fucking good.”
You tossed your head back, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the smoothness of it. He blinked up at you, a smile on his lips, completely in bliss.
He moved his hands with you, nearly lifting you up as you moved on his cock, moved on his body. You forgot how strong he was.
“You sure you’ve never done this?” he gasped, his eyes shut tight. “Because fuck, this is better than I ever imagined.”
You smiled down on him, giddy at his words. You moved even faster, causing him to moan, and moan, and moan.
You didn't even know what to say—you just enjoyed his little commentary as he took you in, his gaze dripping like honey.
“Godamn,” he hissed, eyes meeting yours. He looked frantic. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he seethed, hips slamming up into yours. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so so hot.”
You felt him twitch inside you, felt your walls collapse. You began to see spots in your vision as he moved his hips, too, just as you were. You felt so much pride as he looked absolutely pathetic underneath you, his gaze hazy, his lips bright red from your kisses.
“I love you, I…love you,” he hissed out. “I love you.”
You reached your climax just from looking at him, crying out in a moan, leaning forward over his body. His hands flooded all over you, sending sparks at every touch, every spot of your body. And when you came, when you felt the rush of cum, the rush of the high finally hit, you continued to move as he did. Then, suddenly, his eyes grew so wide, he lifted you off his cock hastily, gasping for air.
You leaned back on his legs, onto your heels, trying to breathe, trying to see, as his hands grasped his own dick, moving up and down before he came, his cum shooting onto you, over your chest, your boobs, your stomach. You watched him gasp as it happened, his lips curling up in an embarrassed smile.
“Oh, oops,” he laughed, looking absolutely delectable with the hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes wide with pleasure. “Totally meant to do that….”
Something burned under your skin, something foreign, something you never felt before. You’ve only read about this feeling, this moment. But now, here you were. You just had sex, sex with your best friend, and it was the best thing you’ve ever felt before. You needed more, so so much more.
“Please tell me we can do that again,” you breathed, falling onto him, sticking to him, feeling the beat of his heart as you pressed your ear to his chest.
“Oh, fuck yes,” his hand wrapped around you, holding you to him. He pressed a gentle, exasperated his to the top of your head. “You don't even have to ask that, i’m planning on doing that all night.”
You moved a bit so you could lay against his side, totally forgetting about the cum on you that now got all over the place. “You seemed like you knew what you were doing for a virgin,” you side eyed him. “You have to be lying.”
He smirked, a light blush on his cheeks. “Uh, well,” he swallowed, eyes looking all over your face. “I mean, I have been thinking about what I would do if I ever got to sleep with you.”
You furrowed your brows. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Well I didn't get to do exactly what I wanted,” he looked down at your lips, at your body pressed to his. “Because of my damn knee, but,” he pressed a kiss to your nose. “That means we have to do this again.”
“Oh, baby,” you pinched his cheek. “We’ll be doing this way more than we probably should.”
He smiled, that blush still on his face, across his nose. He looked so beautiful, so so pretty, it actually hurt you to look at him.
You kissed him, kissed his lips, his nose, his flushed cheeks.
And you looked at him, at his eyes, the same eyes you’ve known forever.
“I love you, Jongho.”
—
The next morning, you parted ways with a sleepy jongho, late for your early class. You couldn't stop thinking about him all day, that is, until you ran into Mingi and San in the library cafe.
Mingi grinned like the cheshire cat, an eye smile brighter than the sun. “Well, hello there, you.”
You rolled your eyes as the line for the coffee moved. San and Mingi stood behind you, giggling like little kids.
“So, Jongho didn't come back last night,” San started, and you quickly cut in.
“So? He always stays in my room, its not anything odd—”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mingi crossed his arms, grinning. “But it is odd.”
“Why?” you crossed your arms, too, facing him. San stood by with a little chuckle.
“Because he came back to the room before his class and his jersey was on inside out—”
“So? He likes to sleep shirtless—”
“His lips were covered in red lipstick—”
“I don't know what you were talking about—”
“Oh, and he told me that he had sex with you—”
You slammed a hand against San’s mouth, giving him a death glare while mingi giggled like a school girl. You grimaced, pulling your hand away. “Shut up, or i’ll make you.”
“Ooh, so scary,” San waved his hands in the air dramatically. “Anyway, are you dating him now? You better date him, he’s been dreaming of that for so long.”
You blinked. “I mean, we said we loved each other, but nothing about dating….”
Mingi smirked. “Welp, guess you better go figure that out.”
After class, you found yourself in front of Jongho’s door, a shake in your breath as you knocked. He opened the door, shirtless, a smile on his face the minute he met your gaze.
And then he grabbed you by the waist and planted a big kiss onto your lips, smiling into it, and then pulled away.
“Hi,” you smiled.
“Hi.” he tilted his head, looking you up and down.
“I heard you told San everything.”
He bit his lip. “Was I supposed to keep it to myself?”
You shook your head, smiling.
“Do you want to come in?” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Mhm,” you nodded, following him in.
The minute the door shut, Jongho slammed you up against it, swallowing you whole with his mouth as he kissed you. His hands gripped the side of your head, tugging at your hair, causing you to let out a hiss. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to shove his tongue into you, exploring your mouth with pleasure. He moaned into you, and you couldn't help but moan yourself.
His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up, slamming your back into the door as he held you to him. He then started to walk towards his bed, but you realized his injury.
“Jongho, you’re leg,” you breathed with worry, trying to get him to put you down. “You’ll hurt yourself—”
“Shut up,” he spoke into your mouth, indeed shutting you up immediately. You sighed as he kissed you, as he touched you. He gently set you down onto his bed, and you went under his duvet since he kept his room like an icebox.
He followed you suit, crawling on top of you under the covers, but you had a better idea. Once again, you flipped him so he was on his back, and with one quick look at the shock in his gaze, you kissed his collarbone, then his chest, down his sternum, over the soft muscle of his stomach. You slowly pulled his pants down over his cock, his underwear along with them.
You felt his muscles tighten underneath your lips, you heard his breath hitch as you moved lower and lower, until your lips met the soft skin of his hard cock. He gasped his hands searching for you under the covers, his legs moving in pleasure as you licked his tip.
“Oh my…oh…” he arched his back against your kiss, your hands holding onto his hips as you surrounded your mouth around his erection. He thrashed against you, absolutely liquid in your embrace.
But before you could take him fully, the door of his room opened, and in came san blabbing about god knows what.
You quickly moved, trying to lay flat the best you could to hide. Jongho sat up fast, pulling the blanket up and bunching it around his dick, making sure it wasn't so obvious that you were under there….and that he was literally throbbing hard.
“I ran into y/n earlier, she admitted to it!” san roared, and you assumed he was taking his shoes off considering the sound. “Good for you buddy, I know how long you wanted to tap that—”
“Ah, yeah,” Jongho awkwardly laughed. You wish you could see the look on his face, the embarrassment. Just how long did he want you?
You couldn't help but stroke your hand against his dick, causing him to gasp.
“You alright?” San questioned, now making his way to the other side of the room.
You continued to rub him. Jongho gripped the blanket tight.
“Peachy,” Jongho grunted.
San didn't speak for a while.
“Are you gonna finally ask her out?”
You paused.
Jongho sighed. “Huh?” he was totally out of it.
“I mean, you’ve been in love with y/n for ages, you might as well make if official while you can.”
“Am I?” Jongho swallowed hard. “Am I in love with her?”
“Ah shut up, you know it,” San scoffed,and a bed creaked—assumingly his. You decided to continue to suck Jongho off, taking him in your mouth, causing him to jolt.
“I uh, i’ll ask her out later,” Jongho took in a breath. “But, um, do you think you could….you know, give me a moment?”
“A moment, why—”San paused, then gasped. “Are you beating your meat right now? Oh fuck man, my bad!”
You nearly cackled against Jongho at the way they conversed with each other, how normal it seemed. It made you wonder how often this happened, how often Jongho did this to himself, how many times he thought about you while doing it…
That turned you on even more.
The minute you heard the door shut, you tossed the covers over your head, meeting Jongho’s shocked, mind-boggled expression.
“Jeez, y/n, fuck,” he couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, as you sucked him. “You’re a freak.”
“Well, you should see the things I read,” you chuckled, and then licked up the column of his cock, causing him to take hold of your head.
He shoved you up and down on his dick, his fingers tearing into your scalp, causing you to choke on him. He groaned, moaned, hummed every note possible, and then without warning, he came into your mouth, his body going still, his eyes open wide as he watched you swallow his load.
Oh, he tasted better than you ever imagined.
His saltiness still coated your lips as you leaned over to kiss him, his eyes lost in you. He looked so in love, so in lust, in everything.
“Are you gonna ask me out?” you asked in between kisses.
“Mhm,” he leaned into your kiss, not wanting to break apart.
“Are we dating now?”
Kiss.
He blinked, looking up at you. His smile defined beauty, his lips desire.
“If you’d like.”
“Of course.”
You kissed him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck, rolling around in bed with him. He chuckled, smiled, nuzzled his head into you.
“I have practice,” you kissed his cheek, trying to get up, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you to him. “I have to go.”
“One more minute,” he mumbled into your ear as he nibbled it, then kissed it. “Just a minute.”
You smiled. “Okay, fine, I guess I can spare a minute.”
He held you, breathed in your scent, his scent on your lips. He didn't let go, even after the minute, and you hand to force yourself out of his hold.
“Meet me in my room tonight?” you raised a brow,
He nodded. “Of fucking course.”
You quickly tried to fix your hair up, tucking it behind your ears, before you gave your boyfriend a wink while you walked out.
And, funny enough, when you shut the door behind you and turned around, San stood there, smirking devilishly.
“Well damn, when’s it my turn?”
#fic rec#i pulled out the notes app for this one#best friends to lovers gets me every goddamn time istg#when is it my turnnnnm#best friend jongho save meeeee#poor baby seonghwa :((#BUT#OH MY GKD#the kiss scene in the bathroom had me geeking#whehhsbssbwhhw#oh no the girls are fightinggg >< i hope they make up TT#oh nooooo jongho ;;;;;#the confession was so cute they were both so confused ;;;; it felt so realistic#not the viagra BAHAH 😭😭#THE CAB SCENEEEEE#STOPPPP THE SMUT WAS SO PRECIOUS AND HOTT LIKE THE WAY THEY WERE SO CLUELESS BUT SO DESPERATE FOR EACH OTHER GODDD#oh my GODDDD THAT WAS SO GOOD#i love your story telling op it was immaculate and i am obsessed !!!#i need …… MORE 🫣#masterlist here i come >:))
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The way that Jack, Rose, and Nine feel far more like a poly trio in late Season 1 rather than any sort of love triangle is INSANE. The vibes are FERAL and IMMACULATE. The kisses in Parting of the Ways. The sharing-story banter in Boom Town. The flirting. "Buy me a drink." "Continue on with whatever you were doing." The dancing. Jack dancing with Rose. Rose dancing with Nine. Nine offering Jack a dance. Everything Ninerose related. "Before you, I was a coward." The fact that Jack only makes sure that Rose is safe before dying for them, Rose brings him back to life, Nine's every interaction with either of them in the finale...honestly the way that Ten interacts with Jack in Utopia (ESPECIALLY the scene in the radiation room/Jack's reaction to hearing Rose is alive) makes even more sense if you realize that he and Jack are exes and that they once loved each other and Rose equally and then the Tenth Doctor WRECKED that by leaving Jack behind
#ninerose#ninth doctor#captain jack harkness#tenjack#tenth doctor#rose tyler#nine x jack x rose#ten x jack#tenrose#i was picking up ot3 vibes at age 13 before i even knew what polyamory was#doctor who#jack harkness#the parting of the ways#utopia
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OBSESSED – 최산
⋆ synopsis. just virgin! san eating u out for the first time <3
pairing. boyfriend! san & fem! reader.
wc. 0,5k
warnings. smut (mdni!), virgin & soft dom! san, masturbation (f! receiving), overstimulation, tongue fucking, cum eating, praise, dirty talk, cussing, nicknames (sannie, baby, good girl & more), san’s just utterly in love with reader <3
nic’s notes ⋆ it’s 4am & i’m ovulating y’all, forgive me ('''– ⌓ –)=3
okay but virgin! san who’s more than ready to please you, eagerly lapping at your wet folds messily. he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, he’s just using the sweet melody of your moans as his guide, a hint that you’re enjoying yourself. his tongue explores places he never knew existed, places that have now become his favorites. his fingers are everywhere, stroking every inch of skin he can, loving phalanges providing sweet touches on your hips as they drew unintelligible scribbles.
the muscles of his tongue feel the way your walls clench around it greedily, which only incites him to keep pushing it down, excited to stretch you fully.
on the other hand, you’re holding on to the messy sheets underneath you for dear life, fingers clamping around the soft fabric as your knuckles turn a pretty shade of white.
because you understand your boyfriend’s eagerness. but fucking hell, this is the fourth time you’ve come.
“g-god, sannie— stop, ’s too much—“
the moment you mutter the word “stop”, he buries the entire length of his skillful tongue inside your tight, gushing walls. and the way you clench around him immediately makes his eyes roll back. he successfully rips a cry out of you, your trembling hands dart towards his messy locks, driven by a single purpose: to grip them tightly whilst you come undone, completely helpless under him. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive, overstimulated clit as he helps you to ride your orgasm.
if he was in love with you before, he’s utterly consumed by you now.
“fuck baby i know ‘s too much—” he pulls away to speak, his raspy and growly voice sending the most delicious chills down your spine.
and shit. the way he’s staring at you is immaculate. brown intoxicated eyes, dilated from lust pierce into your soul like daggers as messy locks of hair fall gracefully over his lashes; all while a soft red blush strikes his cheekbones, belying the sinful scene. a clear, viscous string of your creamy fluids clings to the corner of his swollen lips.
the divine sight of him like this is going to be stuck in your head for a long time: between your legs, just done eating your pussy to the bone.
“but you’re taking it like such a good girl.” he deposits the gentlest kiss on your inner thigh, the feathery stroke of his lips over your sensitive skin tickling you a bit. “please just let me give ya another one. pretty please, baby.”
he begs. he fucking begs, with a tilted head and those undeniably beautiful doe eyes staring into your soul, only releasing the most primitive side of you.
and how can you ever deny him a treat?
“o-okay.” you whisper, almost embarrassed of your words; as if this whole situation wasn’t shameless enough. you aren’t sure how much more of what he was dishing out you could take, but san’s already set in his mind; he’s going to push you to your goddamn limits. because eating your pussy is now his addiction and obsession. and if that means doing it until the only sound escaping your lips are silent cries and his name, then he’s more than happy to comply.
“that’s my princess.”
| masterlist
#© hwallazia#ateez#ateez smut#san ateez#choi san#choi san ateez#san smut#choi san smut#san x reader#san scenarios#san fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic
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Actors on Actors || Drew Starkey x actress!reader
Summary: Actress!reader and Drew partaking in Variety's Actors on Actors!!
Warnings: not proofread sozz
Word count: 3,057 loooong one
A/n: damn I felt like I was in the interview room for this one
MASTERLIST
Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the crew flitted around, prepping for the Actors on Actors interview with Variety. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing lightly at something one of the staff members had said, your head tilted back, eyes sparkling. To him, you looked utterly breathtaking—ethereal, even. Everyone knew Drew Starkey had the biggest crush on you.
He was never subtle about it, often caught in candid interviews or behind-the-scenes clips praising you, his admiration so obvious it became a running joke among his friends and colleagues. But right now, as he adjusted his mic and watched you from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn’t been so vocal about it. His nerves were getting the best of him.
What if he said something dumb? What if you already thought he was just some lovesick fool? He swallowed hard, trying to calm the fluttering in his chest as you walked toward the set, your heels clicking softly against the floor. “Drew Starkey,” you greeted warmly, a radiant smile lighting up your features as you settled into the armchair opposite him.
You sat first, crossing your legs effortlessly, the picture of poise. “Y/n,” Drew smiled back, leaning forward slightly to kiss both of your cheeks. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent his pulse racing, but he played it cool as you let out a soft laugh, your perfume lingering faintly in the air.
“How’s it going?” he asked, his tone steady, though there was a barely perceptible edge to it—a nervous undertone that betrayed just how much this moment meant to him. His gaze lingered on yours, longer than what might be considered polite, but you didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good, and—” You paused mid-sentence as Drew suddenly leaned forward, his brows knitting together.
“Sorry—hold on,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, softer, as his fingers reached toward the hem of your dress. “You’ve got a little something.” Before you could respond, he gently plucked a stray piece of lint from the fabric, his fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the material.
The touch was fleeting, almost inconsequential, but it sent a quiet thrill up your spine, one you quickly masked with a polite chuckle. “Oh—thanks,” you said, your voice airy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome,” Drew replied, his lips curving into a shy grin, his usual confidence momentarily replaced by something more boyish and endearing.
For a moment, you could swear his ears turned a little pink. You leaned back, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you studied him. Of course you knew Drew Starkey had a crush on you. It wasn’t exactly a secret.
But there was something undeniably flattering about it—something that made you feel just a bit lighter, a bit more self-assured. However, you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. It was Drew Starkey after all.
Your eyes met again, and the silence between you stretched into something that felt almost electric. Both of you wore soft, bashful smiles, the moment teetering between unspoken words and playful tension. Finally, you broke into a small laugh, breaking the spell, and Drew looked away, scratching the back of his neck, his own smile lingering despite himself.
“You know,” you began, shifting slightly in your seat, “it’s kind of funny. We’ve both been at so many of the same events, but we’ve never actually talked until now.” Drew chuckled, his posture relaxing just a little. “I know, right? It’s crazy. First time was… the Glass Onion premiere, wasn’t it?”
You nodded, humming in agreement. “Yeah, I was there supporting Madelyn," Drew spoke. "Ugh, I miss Maddie," You give a small pout as Drew chuckles. “And then Immaculate, I remember standing right behind you in the photo line.” You laughed, your cheeks warming at the memory.
“Oh my god, yes! And somehow, we still didn’t even say hi.” “And then the Queer premiere a couple weeks ago,” Drew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Right,” you said, leaning forward slightly as your laughter softened into a chuckle. “It’s wild how we’ve been orbiting around each other this whole time.”
“Crazy, huh?” Drew murmured, his voice lower now, his eyes soft as they lingered on you. The way he looked at you was different—not just admiration, but genuine warmth, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “How’s everything been?” Drew asks, leaning back in his chair, his voice warm but tinged with curiosity, as if he genuinely wants to know every detail.
“It’s good,” you reply with a soft smile, shifting slightly in your seat. “I’m here in LA, which is nice—” Before you can finish, he interjects, his brow arching in curiosity. “You’re from New England, right?” You click your tongue playfully, tilting your head at him. “I see someone’s done their research, Mr. Starkey,” you tease, flashing him a playful wink.
Drew’s grin widens, and he throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and easy, like he’s completely at ease for the first time since the cameras started rolling. “I had to, didn’t I? You’re not exactly an open book. I had to dig deep.” “Oh, is that so?” you challenge, your voice lilting with mock skepticism.
“Well, since you’re so curious, tell me—what do you know about New England?” you challenge, leaning forward slightly. He grins, but it’s a little sheepish. “Not much, if I’m honest. You’ll have to fill in the blanks for me. What’s it like there?” Your eyes widen in exaggerated disbelief, your hand fluttering to your chest like you’ve been insulted.
“Wait—you’ve never been? My goodness, Drew! Come with me, and I’ll show you around properly,” you say, your tone teasing but full of warmth. His smile softens, and he leans in just a little. “I’d like that very much,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity that makes your breath hitch for a fraction of a second. “Well then,” you reply with a chuckle, regaining your composure.
“I think we can organise something. You’re from North Carolina, yeah?” Drew hums in confirmation, his grin widening. “Born and raised. But I gotta admit, New England sounds pretty tempting now.” “It should,” you quip, pointing at him playfully. Then, after a beat, you lean in slightly, an amused gleam in your eye.
“Can I just say—and I’m sure you get this a lot—I’m a huge fan of Outer Banks.” Drew raises an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly bashful as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re team Pogue,” he jokes, but his eyes are fixed on you with a playful sparkle.
You snort softly, clasping your hands together in your lap. “Not quite. But I’ve gotta say, you play Rafe so convincingly. How do you approach a character like Rafe? I mean, you’re, you know… the complete opposite of him.” You chuckle, your words carrying a mix of admiration and disbelief.
Drew leans back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before clearing his throat. “Well, Rafe is a challenge, to say the least. He’s not your typical villain. It’s easy to hate him on the surface, but if you dig deeper, he’s this broken guy with so many vulnerabilities. That’s where I try to focus—on making him human. I want people to see why he makes those awful decisions, even if they don’t agree with them. It’s all about balance.”
You nod, your expression softening as you listen. “That’s fascinating,” you say earnestly. “It’s definitely what makes him such a compelling character.” Drew smiles, but you notice something different about his gaze. He isn’t just answering your question—he’s watching you, his eyes holding a softness that makes your heart skip a beat.
Before the moment can linger too long, Drew shifts the focus back to you. “And your character in Ghosted,” he says, his voice warm and curious. “It’s so different from anything you’ve done before. How did you prepare for that role?” You smile at the question, grateful for his genuine interest.
“It was a lot of emotional work,” you admit, leaning back slightly. “She’s so different from me in so many ways. I spent a lot of time understanding her motivations, her fears, and what drives her. It’s a very internal role, so the process was… draining, to say the least. But also rewarding.” Drew’s lips curve into a soft smile as he leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Sounds intense,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always wondered in the film how you guys manage to keep it together when the emotions run that deep.” You shrug lightly, a thoughtful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not easy, but that’s the beauty of the craft, isn’t it? Tapping into those emotions and channelling them into something real.”
Drew nods, his expression softening even further. There’s something unspoken in his gaze—something that lingers longer than words can express. “Yeah,” he says finally, his voice dropping just a fraction. “I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible. I’ve seen your work—it’s inspiring.” His words hang in the air, heavy with sincerity, and you can’t help the rush of warmth that floods your chest.
A small, genuine smile spreads across your face. “I could say the same for you,” you reply softly, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, it’s like the rest of the room fades away, leaving just the two of you, sharing something unspoken yet deeply understood. Drew shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity evident. “So, let’s talk about Saltburn. You played Venetia Catton. How did you even begin to prepare for a role like that?"
You smile, the mention of Saltburn immediately bringing back memories. “Honestly, Venetia was one of the most challenging but rewarding roles I’ve ever taken on. Emerald Fennell has such a sharp, specific vision as a director, and she brought so much depth to every single character. Venetia wasn’t just the surface-level socialite that she might appear to be at first glance. She’s deeply entrenched in this world of privilege, but there’s a kind of desperation underneath it all—this need to hold it all together, to maintain this facade of control.”
Drew nods, his expression thoughtful. “I feel like Emerald has this incredible knack for creating characters who feel both larger than life and painfully real. What was it like working with her?” “Incredible,” you answer without hesitation. “Emerald is so collaborative and detail-oriented, but she also gives you the freedom to bring your own interpretation to the role. She’s this powerhouse of creativity, and you always feel like you’re in safe hands with her. She’s also hilarious—like, incredibly funny—so even on the more intense days, there was always this underlying sense of ease on set.”
Drew smiles at that, clearly invested. “And then there’s the cast. I mean, Rosamund Pike, Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi—they’re all such giving actors. What was it like working alongside them?” You exhale softly, recalling the dynamic energy of the cast. “It was surreal, honestly. Rosamund Pike is… well, she’s Rosamund Pike. She’s this commanding presence on set, but she’s also so warm and generous as a scene partner. Barry, on the other hand, is just a chameleon. He’s fearless in the way he approaches his craft, and watching him work was like taking a masterclass every day.”
“And Jacob?” Drew asks, his tone light but curious. “He’s been everywhere lately.” “Jacob’s amazing,” you reply with a smile. “He’s so grounded, which is kind of funny considering the larger-than-life characters he’s been playing lately. But on set, he’s just this really laid-back, thoughtful guy. We had a lot of fun with our scenes together—he brings this kind of effortless charisma that makes everything feel natural.”
Drew leans back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a stacked team. No pressure at all, right?” You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no pressure whatsoever. Just casually working with some of the most talented people in the industry.” “Well, you pulled it off,” Drew says sincerely. “Venetia felt so fully realised—like, even in her silences, there was so much going on beneath the surface. It was fascinating to watch.”
“Thank you,” you murmur, his compliment catching you off guard. There’s an earnestness in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “So,” you say, shifting into the next topic, “you’ve played a lot of interesting characters—Rafe Cameron, of course, but also roles like Zach in The Other Zoey and the projects you’ve got coming up. Do you feel like people expect you to stick to certain kinds of roles because of how iconic Rafe has become?”
Drew’s smile fades just a little, his expression turning thoughtful. He seems to appreciate the question, his blue eyes searching yours for a moment before he answers. “Yeah, there’s definitely that expectation sometimes,” he admits. “Rafe is such a big character, and I think when people see you in one role, they assume that’s all you can do. But as actors, we want to stretch ourselves, you know? Surprise people.”
He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s kind of like you, actually,” he adds softly. “You’ve done dramas, you’ve done comedies… you’ve proven that you’re not just one thing. I think that’s what makes people really root for you—you're versatile. You don’t let them put you in a box.” The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you can feel heat rise to your cheeks again. You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to let his words completely throw you off balance.
“That’s… really nice of you to say,” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think that’s the beauty of what we do, right? Showing people different sides of ourselves, through the characters we play.” Drew nods, his eyes softening. “Exactly. You just said it better than I could.” You smile, letting the moment hang between you for just a beat longer than it probably should.
You adjust in your seat, leaning forward slightly as you shift the focus of the interview. “Alright, let’s talk about Queer. You play Eugene, and from everything I’ve heard, it’s such an emotionally rich and complex role. What drew you to it, Drew?" You smile as he laughs. “Honestly, it was the script. You know with it being based on William S. Burroughs’ novel, and the way it explored themes of longing, identity, and self-destruction… it was just so raw. Eugene is such a fascinating character because he’s flawed, but you can’t help but empathise with him. It felt like a challenge I couldn’t pass up.”
You nod, smiling softly. “It sounds like it required you to really dig deep emotionally. Was it intimidating stepping into a story like that?” “Completely,” Drew admits with a laugh. “But it was also the kind of role that forces you to grow as an actor. I had to be vulnerable in a way I hadn’t been before, which was scary but also freeing. And having someone like Luca Guadagnino directing—it felt like a safety net, you know? He creates such a safe, collaborative environment.”
“Luca’s brilliant,” you agree, your voice filled with admiration. “And then there’s Daniel Craig. What was your experience working with him? I mean- I remember working with him on Glass Onion and being blow away by how meticulous he is." Drew grins, a flicker of boyish excitement crossing his face. “Oh, he’s incredible. Daniel is one of those actors who’s just so present in every scene. He has this intensity, but he’s also really generous as a scene partner. He listens, reacts—he makes you feel like what you’re doing really matters.”
You smile, nodding your head, "He's also got such a great sense of humour!" Drew laughs, nodding. “Exactly! Like, he can go from delivering this super heavy, emotional scene to cracking a joke that has the entire crew in stitches. It’s such a unique balance, and it keeps the energy on set really light, even during the intense moments.”
“Do you have a favourite memory with him from filming?” you ask, genuinely curious. “There’s this one scene we did that was really emotionally charged—like, full-on tears and everything,” Drew begins, his smile softening. “After we wrapped the take, I was still kind of in that headspace, and Daniel just clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Well, that was bloody exhausting, wasn’t it?’ It snapped me out of it, and we both just started laughing. It was one of those moments where you realise, ‘Okay, this is heavy, but it’s also what we love to do.’”
You laugh at the image of Daniel’s bluntness, shaking your head. “That’s so him. He has a way of grounding you, doesn’t he?” “Completely,” Drew agrees. “And honestly, having him on set made me feel like I had to step up my game. He’s such a pro, and you can’t help but want to match that level of commitment.”
You tilt your head, studying him for a moment. “It sounds like Queer really pushed you as an actor, in the best way.” “It did,” Drew says earnestly. “And, you know, hearing you talk about working with Daniel—what was it like for you? I mean, I imagine Glass Onion had a very different vibe, but I’m sure he brought that same energy.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you reply. “Daniel has this way of making everyone feel like they’re part of something special. And with Glass Onion, there was this playful energy because the story is so twisty and fun, but Daniel was always so focused and intentional with every scene.” Drew leans in slightly, clearly fascinated. “Did you ever have one of those moments with him where you just stopped and thought, ‘Wow, I’m working with James Bond’?”
You laugh, nodding. “More than once! It’s impossible not to. But then you get to know him, and he’s just… Daniel. Down-to-earth, funny, and incredibly kind. It makes you forget about the whole ‘James Bond’ thing—at least for a little while.” Drew grins. “That’s good to know. I feel like we’ve both been lucky to work with him, even if I’m still a little starstruck.”
“That’s what Daniel Craig does to you, ladies and gentlemen,” you teased, your laughter light as you pointed at the camera, winking playfully. Drew’s amused chuckle followed, a soft sound that matched the warmth in your tone. The atmosphere of the interview had shifted, the playful banter between the two of you creating an easy camaraderie as the conversation drew to a close.
“Well, I think we’ve discovered we have a lot in common after all,” Drew said, his smile widening as he turned toward you. His eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and genuine appreciation. “This has been a great pairing, truly.”
Your smile softened as you met his gaze, the connection between the two of you almost palpable. “I think so too,” you responded, your voice light and sincere, a soft chuckle escaping you as your gaze lingered on him. “Very great pairing,” you added, your words more than just agreement—there was an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect that hung in the air.
Drew’s smile widened slightly at your reply, the chemistry between the two of you becoming more evident as the final moments of the interview came into focus. Despite the cameras and the public personas, there was something undeniably real in the exchange, something that hinted at more than just a professional connection.
#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey#fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x actress!reader#drew starkey fic#drew starkey x you#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x female reader#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron x fem!reader#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey angst#drew starkey au#rafe cameron fanfic#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks x reader#outerbanks x you#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks au#outerbanks fanfiction#outerbanks x reader#rafe x y/n
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THESE SCENES WERE ACTUALLY FUCKING CRAZY LIKE HOW SOMEONE CAN GET OVER THEM I DO NOT KNOW!!! AND TO THINK WE’LL GET SIMILAR SCENES WITH KITTY MAKES ME SO [SCREECHES LIKE A BANSHEE]
i wonder what cc thought when she wrote these scenes?
she just sent the file to her publicist and close the notebook???? HOW CAN SOMEONE MOVE ON FROM THIS????
- from city of fallen angels
- from lady midnight
#CASSIE IS SO GOOD AT WRITING LOVE SCENES#LIKE TRULY EVERY BOOK HAD FUCKING BANGERS#BLACKSTAIRS IN THE COTTAGE? ATE#MALEC FIRST TIME IN TRSOM? GLORIOUS#TESSA AND JEM FIRST KISS? BLOODY IMMACULATE#JUST AMAZING SCENES ON AMAZING SCENES WITH THIS WOMAN ISTG#I CANT WAIT TO SEE HOW SHE WILL PROVIDE WITH KITTY AND MORGENTHORN IN TWP AHHHHHH#cassandra clare#the wicked powers#twp#tsc
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Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1515
Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?
As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed.
The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning.
You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind.
But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.
You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber.
To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond.
And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.
You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony.
Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her.
With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with.
Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible.
As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement.
"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"
You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"
Eloise shrugged.
"We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.
"Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon."
As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.
Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today.
As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.
"Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."
Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile.
"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear."
She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony.
Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family.
She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe.
As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."
Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words.
They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support.
As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months."
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."
Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework.
"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always."
Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.
It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.
As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment.
Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.
"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?"
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne.
They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.
"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby."
Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed.
Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.
The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.
As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you.
It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.
The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.
Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond.
The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family.
Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music.
Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.
As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement.
You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes.
The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.
Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps.
They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.
It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.
As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion.
He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."
"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek.
He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"
Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.
"That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that."
"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."
He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.
You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.
#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton netflix#colin bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#anthony x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x y/n#x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#colin bridgerton#eloise bridgerton
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Can you do Conrad with ‘’Is that my shirt?’’
This was the only gif I could find with this shirt...
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
It had been thirty minutes since you, Taylor, and Belly settled in front of the TV, yet the three of you couldn't come to a unanimous decision on which movie to watch. Well, truth be told, the indecision was mainly between you and Taylor. Belly was happily munching on popcorn, seemingly unfazed by the movie debate.
‘’Mamma Mia,’’ Taylor exclaimed, advocating for the musical movie choice once again.
However, you were quite tired of musicals and Taylor's less-than-perfect singing renditions, especially after enduring La La Land the night before.
You shook your head. ‘’No, let’s watch 10 Things I hate about you.’’
It was one of your favorite movies. You weren’t a huge fan of rom-coms, but the romance was not too cheesy and the soundtrack was immaculate. Kat’s character was also iconic. You’ll never get tired of watching it.
But Taylor persisted, insisting that Mamma Mia would be a perfect summer movie. She looked to Belly for support and the look on Belly’s face told you you were about to lose this debate.
‘’I haven’t watched Mamma Mia in a long time…’’
Feeling somewhat defeated, you let out a sigh, realizing you were outvoted. ‘’Mamma Mia it is then,’’ you reluctantly agreed.
Taylor happily set up the movie, grinning and singing along to all of the songs.
You were half way through it when the front door opened and the boys returned from their party, making a lot of noises as always.
‘’Seriously, can you guys keep it down? We're trying to watch a movie here,’’ Taylor scolded them, clearly irritated by their untimely return.
‘’What movie?’’ Steven asked, making his way into the living room, seemingly eager to pester Taylor further.
‘’Oh, is that Mamma Mia?’’ Jeremiah’s face lit up, going off and belting one of the songs as he poured himself a glass of milk in the kitchen.
You couldn't help but laugh at Jeremiah's enthusiasm. He truly was the life of the party.
‘’It’s girls only, get out,’’ Taylor asserted, determined to keep their movie time uninterrupted.
‘’I want to watch it too,’’ Steven and Jeremiah protested, plopping themselves on the couch next to Belly and attempting to snatch the popcorn bowl from her.
‘’Absolutely not,’’ Belly retorted, holding onto the popcorn tightly, not willing to share.
Steven's attempt to mockingly tease her was met with a sharp comeback from Taylor. ‘’Did you grow tits while you were at the party, Steven?’’
Everyone burst into laughter at Taylor’s witty remark, even Conrad who just entered the living room, walking over to the other end of the couch where you were sitting.
He sat on the length of the chaise, stroking your bare legs as he leaned in for a quick kiss.
‘’Did you have fun with the boys?’’ you asked, your attention no longer on the movie.
Conrad shrugged. Being the designated driver sucked…and so did that party. No wonder they came home so early. He would have prefered to stay here and hang out with you, but you had already made plans with the girls.
You stretched and laid your legs over his lap, settling comfortably into the couch. Conrad shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He liked the weight of your legs over his, the casual intimacy of it.
Your attention was brought back to your friends when Jeremiah and Taylor began dueting ‘Lay all your love on me’ as if they were part of the movie. Taylor still couldn’t sing, but Jeremiah wasn’t too bad. You smiled at them, amused by their antics, and Conrad smiled back at you, his eyes full of affection as his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin.
A few scenes later, his attention was drawn to the navy Cousins rowing shirt you were wearing, and he raised an amused eyebrow. ‘’Is that my shirt?’’ he inquired with a grin, realizing it belonged to him.
You hummed. It was slightly oversized on you, but incredibly comfortable. ‘’We went swimming and I wanted something comfortable to wear after.’’ And it smelled like him. ‘’I hope you don’t mind.’’
Conrad shook his head. ‘’It looks good on you.’’
—
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#conrad fisher#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher fanfic#conrad fisher x reader#the summer i turned pretty#the summer i turned pretty imagine
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I actually have no words right now I am speechless BUT I currently need to find the brain responsable for this specific moment on the script and make out with it asap.
Let’s talk about it cause I am IN TEARS and I’ll explain why at the end of this post.
first of all THANK YOU for the most iconic fucking moment in the entire show.
HONESTLY BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK???? They left me GAGGED. Absolutely speechless, mouth open catching flies and all, because of the brilliant full circle moment they gave my man right. here.
HIS REDEMPTION
You’d think, of all the words to misspell he’d never misspell that one????
of course he did that on purpose, it’s THEIR THING and Jack would have gotten it IMMEDIATELY.
“is it spelled with an S?” I need to bow down to them. Because this man right here outplayed the smart, outplayed those who looked down on him, outplayed everyone in their stupid, condescending game.
[side note and im 100% sure Jack here is trying hard to figure out whether to facepalm or kiss the fuck out of his boyfriend (of course he does the later)]
But the perfect bow, the tastiest cherry on top to this perfect scene is War’s adorable fucking sorry.
DO YOU ALL GET IT???
It’s an immaculate culmination for Joke’s english arc because English is one of the fucking foundations for Joke’s insecurities.
The dumb thief that bested every single person in the room by embracing his blatant ignorance and disregard for the language and thus, embracing who he really is, someone he is proud of being.
how about I kms how about that
#standing ovation#they deserve NO LESS#yinwar and their brilliant minds#jack and joker u steal my heart#jack and joker the series#jack and joker: u steal my heart#jack and joker#jackjoke#jackjoker#yin anan wong#yin anan#war wanarat#yinwar#thai bl#thailand#bl series#bl drama#thai bl drama#thai drama#my meta#metapost#meta post
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Under the Mistletoe
Label Mature 18+
Summary it’s near Christmas and you’re ecstatic to indulge in the festivities especially with your handsome fiancé Patrick by your side. However as the evening wears on you begin to realize your relationship isn’t as blissful as it seems.
⚠️ Hardcore Smut ⚠️ Patrick almost having a violent psychotic break • name calling • toxic relationship dynamics •kiss it better •restraint•dirty talk •mild choking•edging• fingering •love bites•pinning •size kink• cock warming• male dominant•P in V against a wall•multiple orgasms •cream pie• mild after care 🔗MasterList
📖 Proof Reader @purejasmine 3 parts upcoming (maybe more) : 🔗 Silken Secrets •🔗 Drenched in Shadows TBA
Under The Mistletoe
The Waldorf Astoria Christmas gala is dazzling, a picture perfect scene of Manhattan excess. Everything sparkles: lights, dresses, diamonds, and you thrive in it. You’re the darling of the Upper East Side tonight, flitting between friends and admirers, your laughter bright and carefree.
Patrick watches you from across the room, leaning against the bar in his Tom Ford tuxedo, a glass of champagne in hand.
He is the epitome of perfection. Chiseled features, every muscle precisely defined under his tailored suit, and sharp, cold blue eyes that command attention.
The lights from the Christmas tree reflect off his perfectly styled hair, making him look almost ethereal. But beneath the surface, his mind churns.
—She’s exhausting. Beautiful, yes, but insufferable tonight. How much longer can I keep this up?
You’re chatting animatedly with a group of friends, oblivious to the way his gaze pierces through you. When you glance his way, you catch his sharp smirk, and your heart skips. You love that smirk—it’s confident, seductive, and just for you.
“Patrick, come here!” you call, waving him over. The group makes room for him, and he steps in smoothly, placing a possessive hand on your lower back.
Now under the mistletoe, someone teases, “Oh, Patrick, you know the rule!”
Patrick’s grin widens. “I don’t follow rules,” he quips, pulling you close to him. His lips press to yours, firm and commanding, eliciting a chorus of playful cheers. But the kiss isn’t sweet. It’s a performance, sharp and calculated, and you feel it.
Later, as the party winds down, you’re in the car heading back to Patrick’s penthouse. The silence is heavy. You’re perched in the passenger seat of his immaculate Lexus, prattling on about holiday plans, your friends vacations, and what you want for Christmas.
“And Sophie is spending New Year’s in St. Barts—ugh, can you imagine? It’s so cliche to flaunt it like that,” you chatter, oblivious to his mounting frustration.
Patrick’s jaw tightens, his cold gaze fixed on the road ahead.
—I should pull over. Quiet her. Permanently. The way she talks, her voice, that incessant laugh—it grates. But not yet. Not tonight. Keep the mask on.
“Are you even listening to me, Patrick?” you pout, crossing your arms.
He pulls into the parking garage, kills the engine, and steps out of the car without answering. You’re left fuming as he strides toward the elevator, leaving you to follow.
His penthouse is immaculate—gleaming marble floors, sleek minimalist furniture, and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.
Patrick removes his jacket, draping it over a chair with deliberate precision. You, still sulking, remove your fur coat and kick off your heels tossing your hand bag on the couch.
“Are you going to ignore me all night?” you demand, your voice sharp with irritation.
Patrick turns, his cold gaze locking onto you. “You’re such a spoiled brat,” he says evenly, his tone devoid of warmth.
You blink, stunned. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he says, stepping closer. His presence overwhelming, and for the first time, a flicker of unease crosses your mind.
“The whining, the entitlement, the need for constant attention—it’s exhausting, darling,” he says, his tone sharp and cutting.
You open your mouth to retort, but he’s already on you, his hands gripping your arms as he pushes you against the entry wall.
His movements are firm bordering on violent as he holds you in place his face inches from yours.
“Patrick, you’re scaring me,” you whisper, your voice trembling.
“Good,” he says, his smirk cold and dangerous. “Maybe you should be scared.”
His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You walk around like the world owes you something. Do you even realize how ridiculous you sound?”
Tears brim your eyes, but your body betrays you, heat rising in your core as his grip on your jaw tightens keeping you firmly in place.
His sharp gaze flickers with something darker, more sinister, but he reins it in.
—She’s useful —break her…not entirely. You need her for connections —for appearances..to fit in
“Don’t cry,” he says soothingly, his grip loosening as he leans in closer, “You’ll ruin your makeup,” he whispers against your ear.
He pulls back, his sharp eyes locking onto yours with a detached precision, and before you can say anything, his mouth is on yours, kissing you with an intensity you’ve never known before.
His hands roam your body—firm and commanding—groping your waist, sliding up to squeeze your breasts
You pull back sharply, when his touch grows too rough, the possessiveness behind it making your heart race.
“Patrick—” you gasp, but he silences you, his hand wrapping around your throat tightly enough to make you stop.
“Quiet,” he orders, his voice low and commanding as he holds you in place. “You wanted my attention now you have it” he confirms his blue eyes locking onto yours with a sharp intensity.
A soft, involuntary sound escapes your lips as his grip tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, and your body betrays you as the slick evidence of your arousal forms between your thighs.
Patrick catches the flicker of desire in your eyes, his sharp gaze narrowing with dark satisfaction, and without hesitation he firmly presses his knee between your legs, slowly spreading them apart.
“You enjoy this, don’t you?” he observes, releasing his hold and lowering his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of sharp bites and kisses that make you gasp.
“Of course you do,” he rasps, his voice low and rough, as he yanks your head back, offering your neck for more of his mouth to mark and claim.
“A spoiled brat like you loves being put in her place,” he whispers against your neck, his hands sliding down your body, roughly pulling at your dress, bunching it up to your hips.
His fingers skim along your inner thighs, pausing just long enough to make you squirm, his eyes darkening with satisfaction at your impatience.
“So spoiled” he taunts his voice filled with lust.
His fingers press against your soaked panties, rubbing slow, teasing circles that make your hips writhe instinctively.
You can’t help but moan softly, aching for more, the tension in your body melting into pure need as he takes his time tormenting you, letting your hips roll against his hand.
“Stop that,” he orders, his hand firmly gripping between your thighs, the sudden restraint sending a surge of heat through your body. “You’ll move when I let you.”
“Patrick, please,” you whimper, your voice desperate, barely above a whisper.
He pulls your panties aside, his fingers sliding over your slick folds with maddening precision. “Please what?” he asks, his voice laced with dark seduction. “You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you?”
His fingers slide inside you, and you gasp feeling each slow thrust hitting the perfect place within.
You moan softly as his sharp gaze remains locked on yours watching you struggle to remain still. The overwhelming sensation makes you clench helplessly around his fingers, the pleasure so intense it leaves you trembling against his hand.
“Look at you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against yours, refusing to kiss you fully. “My spoiled little brat, always getting exactly what she wants.”
You moan loudly as his thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make your thighs tighten against his hand.
“Don’t you dare stop Patrick …I-Im going to come” you whine softly, your voice laced with unmistakable entitlement.
“Of course you’re going to come” he mocks, his eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction. “A spoiled brat like you always gets what she wants”
You cry out, choking back a sob as your body arches against him, the rush of release flooding through you as his fingers thrust into you relentlessly, making you orgasm with perfect precision.
He doesn’t stop as you come, his thrusts growing more intense, his fingers pushing deeper, his thumb working a devastating assault on your clit.
“One is never enough,” he says, his voice dark and commanding. “You’re going to come for me again.”
He leans in, his lips finding your neck, his mouth rough, his teeth grazing and nipping at your skin, making you clench around his fingers with each stinging bite.
Your moans grow louder, your body trembling as the pressure builds feeling him thrust impossibly faster.
Then, just as you’re on the brink, his fingers pull away abruptly, leaving you reeling, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps without his touch.
Before you can protest, he grabs your thigh, roughly lifting it and pressing you back against the wall. The contrast of his height and unyielding strength sending a thrill through you.
“You can’t even wait for it, can you?” he taunts, his fingers moving to unbuckle his belt, his smirk deepening as he watches you squirm.
“I cant—” you confess your voice trembling hearing the sound of his zipper lowering in the silence.
Your eyes drop instinctively, your body writhing as he reveals his cock, the size and hardness making you bite down on your lip, all your thoughts blurring into one desperate need to have him inside you.
He teasingly strokes his hand along his impressive length, his sharp gaze pinning you in place. “This is exactly what you need,” he says, his tone low and dangerous as his hips align with yours. “To have me tame the spoiled little attitude right out of you until you’re begging me to let you come.”
You gasp sharply feeling the thick, blunt tip of his cock press against your wetness, the slick sound of your arousal filling the silence as he pushes in just barely.
A broken moan escapes your lips, your hips instinctively shifting toward him, desperate for more, but he pulls back just as quickly, leaving you aching.
“Please Patrick” You whimper, your eyes wide and pleading meeting his sharp gaze. His smirk deepens, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face as he takes in your desperation.
“Already begging?” he taunts in disbelief. “You can’t even handle a second of patience without falling apart can you,” he mocks with amusement.
He smoothly pushes in again even slower, parting you inch by excruciating inch as you clutch his shoulders feeling the size of his cock.
Then he thrusts into you hard, a cry ripping from your throat as he fills you completely in one brutal motion.
The sudden fullness of his penetration has you gasping, your body pinned helplessly between him and the wall, his grip on your thigh tightening to keep you in place.
“What’s the matter?” he pauses, letting you struggle against the overwhelming size of his cock, the sharp ache radiating through you as he holds you still, refusing to move.
“Too much for my spoiled little princess?” he grins, his voice dark and cutting as his sharp gaze locks onto your flushed face, watching every tremble and gasp with satisfaction.
He holds you in place he thrusts into you with unyielding force, each drive of his hips erasing every coherent thought from your mind.
Your lips part, gasping and trembling, releasing broken breathless moans as your chest heaves with every breath.
“You’re an absolute mess for me,” he taunts, his voice uneven as he thrusts harder, his pace unrelenting as your moans grow louder, spilling freely now, your body trembling under his control.
The pressure builds impossibly fast, his cock thrusting with a relentless speed, hitting that perfect spot over and over until your thighs quake and you’re left gasping his name.
His hand grips the back of your neck, his sharp gaze locking onto your eyes now dazed in bliss, a testament to how thoroughly he’s taming you.
“Completely ruined… just like I knew you’d be,” he rasps with satisfaction, seeing your face blushing radiantly in surrender. “My perfect little fiancée, undone entirely on my cock.” He breathes, desperation lacing his voice as he loses himself in the moment.
You moan for him, lost in pleasure your hands gripping the back of his neck, your nails digging into his skin as his pace grows faster, harder, each thrust forcing a gasp from your lips as your body struggles to keep up with his brutal pace.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the space, drowning out your whimpers and cries, your body jerking with each unrelenting thrust.
“Patrick… please…” you manage, your words broken between desperate breaths, your chest heaving as you struggle to form a coherent thought.
Your muscles clench involuntarily, each punishing thrust drawing a raw cry from your lips, your body reacting helplessly to his relentless force.
“You act so spoiled —so untouchable —but look how easily you break for me,” he pants, his grip tightening on your thigh, yanking you closer while his other hand presses your hip firmly against the wall, pinning you in place as he pounds into you with unyielding control.
Your mind goes blank, your moans turning into incoherent cries as he dominates you.
Your orgasm tears through you, your sobs catching in your throat as your body clenches and quivers against him.
His teeth graze along your jawline as he groans in pleasure, his pace never faltering as he uses your trembling body to push his own release.
Then he tenses every muscle, and with one final thrust, he comes in you, the ferocity of his movements leaving you helpless against the force of him.
He groans, deep and broken as he thrusts into you one last time, his release pulsing through you, his satisfaction undeniable as he claims you completely.
When he finally pulls back, he glides his cock out slowly, leaving you aching and weak against the wall
He’s breathless as he tucks himself away, fastening his pants with a precision that feels almost indifferent.
You’re left stunned and incoherent, your body a mess of pleasure and exhaustion as you catch your breath.
Stepping back, he loosens his silk tie and unbuttons his dress shirt with casual ease, a smirk playing on his lips as his sharp gaze rakes over your trembling body.
—She’s so entitled, insufferable at times, yes… but look at that face. Perfect. Flawless. Even as a spoiled brat she serves her purpose.
—The satisfaction of knowing she can give me exactly what I want keeps her useful to me—but nothing lasts forever, and when her purpose runs out, so will my patience.
Patrick’s eyes remain steady on yours for a moment before the familiar sharp smirk forms on his lips—it’s confident, seductive, and entirely just for you.
“Come, darling I’ll run you a bath,” he says casually as he walks away, his tone calm and composed, as if what just happened was the most natural thing in the world.
As he disappears into the master bedroom, you remain standing there your body still stunned, unable to deny the heat still coursing through you—and how much you hated —and loved seeing him lose control.
🔪 END
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Thoughts on the live action one piece
Spoilers 😉
Yes, I binged all 8 episodes, and have work today and can’t see out my eyes but worth it.
I’ll try to keep it short.
Luffys character was immaculate. The way Inaki portrayed him and brought this man to life was so amazing to see. Oda really saw Luffy in him and he did not disappoint. The moves looked great, CGI was on point for a live action, and they really did break the curse.
Zoro’s character was beautiful. I love that he was more serious, and him throwing up the finger in his first scene?! I’m star struck. You can say what you want about the live action, but theres no denying this cast was perfect for these characters and the fight scenes were choreographed to the point where it looked so clean.
Nami 🥳 The emotion! The conflict! I absolutely love the way she had more action scenes and was more open with her care for the crew early on. Nami has always been my favourite character, and Emily did her justice.
I will be listening to her song on repeat.
Ussop! Ussop! Are you serious! Why do I love you in every reality! And Ussop and Kaya! The kiss! The scream I let out! I died😵💫 I wish he had more shooting scenes, but his true potential wasn’t seen until later in the anime so I can’t complain, cause season two Ussop is gonna pop off.
Sanji😳 First off, live action Sanji has a hold on me😮💨 Like what happened to the guy who couldn’t get any girls. Ngl, was keeping an eye out for the blonde at table 8, looking out for my competition👀 His kicks were so smooth and all, and I mean ALL, his fight scenes were perfect. Like how did they do this. You can see the care and effort he put into his character.
Buggy? I love our unhinged clown. His making a circus with trapped towns people. His CGI? Amazing. The little goof we were left with when they trapped his parts in the chest made me cackle!
The pacing of the show was done so well. I was worried that 8 episodes wouldn’t be enough (and I was right where’s season two I want Vivi), but the retelling was more then I hoped for. I will always love the anime more, as most of us know there’s not enough episodes in the series, but the live action did great in that respect. I did miss some of the characters they had to cut to make it flow better though. The ussop pirates live on in our hearts
Don’t get me wrong, there was some scenes I missed from the original show, like Zoro lifting Luffy’s cage, Nami burning her hands on Buggys cannon fuse, Nami stabbing Ussop. BUT, they wouldn’t have fit in this version of the show.
They did give us Zoro lifting the safe like he did Luffys cage which was cool. And Nami holding Ussops hand when Zoro was fighting, Nami showing up for the fight rather then leaving. I love her. Even though Nami didn’t get to show her care through the actions of saving Zoro or stabbing her own hand, she was still able to show those emtions through different actions. The hand holding with Ussop rather then the stabbing of her hand was so good to see. This version of Nami seemed more fragile in a way, so this suited her version well.
It was like watching One Piece for the first time all over again. I didn’t know what would happen. Getting more marines, and Garps relationship to Luffy being revealed so early in the series to cause tension within the crew *chef’s kiss* And Koby? ‘Be a good pirate.’? Like I love you? Not doing what Garp asked? Standing up for his beliefs? You are going to be a good Marine. You’ll be the greatest 💕
The relationships they explored?
First off Ussop and Kaya 😵 I love them so much. Them talking to the straw hats about their relationship was so cute, and Zoro saying it wasn’t his area of expertise 💅🏻✨ Jokes 👀
Nami being besties with Kaya😍 Her telling Kaya not to let someone tell her how to run her life, drawing connections to her own situation, telling Kaya not to be trapped. Her returning the treasure! I loved it so much. Ussop’s and Nami’s friendship has always been the one I cherished in the crew, and for Nami to support Kaya, and Ussop to see how Nami was good to his girl I feel will only strengthen their relationship.
Nami and Zoro besties? Didn’t know I could love them more.
Nami caring so much for Zoro after his fight with Mihawk showed her love for her new friends, and mirrored her care she had in the original series where she saved him from drowning at Arlong park. Even though we didn’t get the original scenes, they were supplemented with new scenes that held the same feelings.
Zosan- I mean Zoro and Sanji. The wings of the pirate king? I love their bickering in any universe it seems. The fish men fight was so good, them being unbothered with the guys trying to kill them as they fought with each other was so them. And Zoro licking his plate clean and saying Sanji’s food was okay? Not bad for a waiter huh?
And the most important pair. Captain and his first mate. I just loved how many times they reiterated that Zoro is Luffys right hand man 🥰 Luffy not stepping in the way of Zoros dream was beautiful, and his care afterwards reminded me of how he cared for Nami when she got sick in the original series. Asking Sanji to cook his favourite? So cute. He couldn’t decide if it was best for Zoro to eat or sleep or drink and him stressing for Zoro. All amazing. I’ve used amazing so many times but its just the word I need to explain it. Zoro waking up, Luffy engulfing him. I could go on and on.
Nami and Luffy? The amount of love I have for them. They were everything I wanted from them. The scene. THE scene. Beautiful.
I could go on and on about this show, but sadly I have work. Please show this version love, and don’t go into expecting the same series. It is different. It’s its own version and deserves its own category.
I love the cast! Thank you for making history with this adaptation! Xx
#one piece#one piece live action#monkey d. luffy#zoro#nami#ussopp#sanji#zolu#zorosan#zosan#kaya x ussop#ussop x kaya#one piece mihawk#shanks#spoilers#one piece spoilers#ussop pirates#opla spoilers#opla#opla cast
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Swear to me.
THE LAST OF US EPISODE 9 - LOOK FOR THE LIGHT
#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou spoilers#tlouedit#tlouhboedit#tlounetwork#tloudaily#pedro pascal#bella ramsey#i love these#the colors are gorgeous#the quotes are perfect#the scene choices are immaculate#skyshipper#wanna smooch his cheek#wanna kiss his nose#he’s just 😫😫😫#Joel Miller#ellie Williams
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My hcs on the exact (exact-ish) moment each of the remaining Nublar Six realized Yaz and Sammy were head over heels for each other
In order of earliest to latest
Brooklyn
You know she had it clocked from the BEGINNING. Her gaydar is immaculate. Started getting suspicious when Yaz was defending Sammy so hard over the phone in s1. That was her "wait a minute..." moment. I think the moment she was 100% DEAD set on it was s2 ep3 "The Watering Hole" when Sammy and Yaz were giggling and shit behind her and she was thinking that entire time "they're so obviously gay for each other to the point where its nuts".
Kenji
My personal belief is that for him, it wasn't a gradual realization but more of a "hit me like a truck" one. Exact moment is in s3 episode seven "A shock to the system" when Yaz is coddling Sammy. He sees Yaz with her strange behavior and is like "Wow, why is Yaz being so soft around Sammy? Come to think about it, she's always a little soft when it comes to Sammy. It's almost like- OHHHHHHHHH"
Ben:
Second most oblivious. Probably would've been number one if not for Yaz being the one to confide in him. In s5 episode 7 "The Leap", yk that scene where Yaz drops the hint and Ben BARELY manages to scoop it up? ("Oh, you're talking about...Sammy!") Yeah thats the moment he figures it out. This is the guy who eats bugs straight from the bushes and wonders why people r a little freaked out by it.
Darius:
Finally, Darius. Don't know the exact line, but when he and Brooklyn walk in on the yassamy kiss in s5 episode 9 he goes "I had no idea!" or something like that. There was probably some conversation between him and Brooklyn after "The Long Run" that went like this:
Brooklyn: Wow, I can't believe Yaz ran across the entire island while being chased by a hybrid, killer dinasour in order to save Sammy.
Darius: I know. They're such good best friends! ☺
Brooklyn:
#camp cretaceous#jwcc#yasammy#yasmina fadoula#sammy gutierrez#jwct#jurassic world camp cretaceous#jurassic world chaos theory
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The passion in my head is too much at times. My senses become aroused as I get turned on by some of the simplest things. It can be the morning sunrise, or a happy dog walking past my front door, or the perfect dress as it falls flat and hugs the curves of the most beautiful female body. It can be a lovely couple, lost in the noise and alive in each other’s presence. It can be the smile of a harmless elderly man or woman who just wants to be seen. It can be the way a horse gallops across the farmland with the sun shining on its immaculate coat. It can be a child smiling at the color of a crayon. I swear it is too much at times.
The passion in my head would suffocate many of the people in my life. It is too much for the average person who chooses to harmlessly “go with the flow” without a fucking care in this world. Where they see nothing, I see beauty, honor, grace, humility, intelligence, confidence - I see a palate of emotions that have the ability to overwhelm me at any given moment. I cry at a meaningless scene in some Netflix-produced garbage that might make others laugh, at most. I become philosophical to meaningless questions that don’t even graze the surface of another’s ethos. I question the questions because I know that roots run deep and most are afraid to dig because they are afraid of what they might discover, and I yearn to get my hands dirty. I swear it is too much at times.
The passion in my head makes me believe that my talents are going to waste. I was meant to be a husband, a lover, a father, a good man, and I am sadly none of these things with the exception of the latter. I wish to be a protector to a beautiful woman who is as mad for me as I am for her. I wish to romance her in ways that she thought men were no longer capable of. I wish to give her the family that she never thought that she could have or that she deserves. I wish to teach her things about herself that she never knew or believed. Some women think that they need to be broken, but I only wish to set her free. There is nothing to break except for my heart. I swear it is too much at times.
The passion in my head is incredibly difficult for me to put into words. How does one explain what a simple glance from an attractive woman can do to me? A smile can inspire me to burn cities to the ground if it means to keep her safe and to call her mine. A touch… a touch can make my life flash before my eyes and leave me asking myself if this is who I have been waiting for all this time. Just her attention alone that makes me think that I am the only man in the world that she adores could inspire me to do anything required to earn her love. I want to read to her and make up voices for each character. I want to cook for her and feed her from my fork and spoon. I want to smack her and bite her ass every time she is making a cup of tea in her underwear because the sight of her flesh makes me as hungry as a starving fat kid. I want to wash, brush, and untangle her hair as I hug her waist from behind and randomly pepper her neck with soft kisses because I can’t fucking get enough of her. It is too fucking much at times.
The passion in my head might kill me some day, but is there any better way to live? It sounds like a glorious death if you ask me. It can be exhausting to go through life this way, but I am blessed to feel something rather than to feel nothing at all. I want life to matter and I want to give a damn, no matter how many times I may say otherwise. I want to give her the life that she has convinced herself that she doesn’t deserve. Passion is the fuel of life, and I wouldn’t have any it any other way. I can handle it. 🖤🖤
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Seducing Price
Okay so this is like a excerpt from my very first ff Nigtmares become true solider, I think this fanfic is to big to post on Tumblr, but I still wanted to post at least one of my favorite scenes from it.
Pairing: John Price x Reader ( I perspective tho, Readers callsign is Sunshine)
TW: Oralsex, seduction, Cum play , body worship , John Price on his knees for you
I went to the training center; my training uniform was in the washer, and I just hoped I didn't have some rookies who barely finished their puberty in the hall since I put on just a green sports bra and yoga leggings that hugged every curve of my body—leaving absolutely no place for imagination.
To my surprise, John was in the gym lifting weights, only wearing a tight compression shirt and grey sweatpants—oh no. I smiled and greeted him.
"No one's here, lovely. You can greet me properly." He pressed me against his sweaty body, kissing me with pure passion.
"Training your arms today?"
"Full body," he smirked, flexing his arm muscles. I giggled at this act—behind all this Captain exterior, he was just a man.
"How much do you lift?"
"250 lbs. What are you training today, lovely?" I swallowed hard; that explains a lot.
"Just some flexibility and stretching."
"Like yoga?" his voice sounded hoarse.
"Yes."
"Explains the outfit."
"You don't like it?" I asked him teasingly.
"A bit distracting." I gave him another kiss and went to a corner where I started to go into the downward-facing dog, wiggling my ass in John's direction.
"Sun," he said, scolding me while pushing the weight to the side.
"What?"
"Stop being a tease."
"I'm not a tease."
"You are."
I rolled my eyes and went to another position, John's eyes still lingering on me. He pulled the heavy weights, groaning deep, his hoarse voice only sounding more extreme. Now he is being a tease. But two can play that game.
"Can you spot me, love? I want to try a bit more on the bench press."
"Of course." We danced around each other for hours in the gym, teasing each other, sharing hidden touches when someone was near. When a rookie came in and tried to flirt with me; the jealousy in John's eyes was immaculate.
"You behaved nice, John," I chuckled.
"Wanted to rip that muppet apart." I went over to John, pressing my hand against his chest while he sat down, my legs fiddling between his spread legs.
"A bit close, love."
"Do you mind?"
"A bit."
"John, can you help me with sparring?" I asked him nicely.
"Oh lovely, you don't know what you're asking."
We began to spar, and to my surprise, he didn't take it easy on me. He didn't underestimate me like Soap and Kyle do; he didn't make dumb mistakes, and so I landed on my ass every time.
"If you wanted to bruise my ass, you could have just asked."
"Fucking minx."
He pinned me down, his knee pressing into my thighs a bit too close to my sweet spot, earning a little moan. He let go of me, looking at me like I'm crazy, so I pinned him down and sat down on his lap, pressing my hips against his erection, while leaning down to kiss him. He grabbed my ass and deepened that kiss before pinning me down and standing up. He helped me up, and I thought he would initiate something, but he didn't.
After the spare, he went away quickly, leaving me alone and flustered in the training center. I was weighing my options. I could go into my room and take care of the problem for myself, or I could just take a cold relaxing shower.
I grabbed a bikini from my room, towels, and my favorite shower products and went to the community shower stalls, hoping I would still catch him there.
I went down and removed my clothes, the sound of water falling against the stall, made me hope John was there. I went with my bikini for the sake of catching anyone else than John there.
But there he stood completely naked under the shower; his brown hair was black and damp because of the water; he was muscular like I thought, but not lean like Kyle or Keegan; he had these thick, delicious muscles. His dog tags clung around his chest, and his chest was covered with hair, making him look more masculine than I could take.
My eyes wandered down. He had a prominent V line and a fucking happy trail that made me rethink my complete life choices. It was followed by soft black curls between his thighs. and the most beautiful dick I ever saw.
I always laughed at people who said they were beautiful, but wow, I just wanted to kneel in front of him and suck him dry. He was big, maybe not the longest I had, but definitely the thickest I ever had, with prominent veins and a red inviting tip. He wasn't circumstanced, which only added to his appeal. I planned to seduce him, not the other way around.
"Sun, what are you doing here? This is the man's shower room."
"Community shower, "I corrected him, sneaky.
"No, you have a room with a shower because you are the only woman on base."
"But it's bonding to share a shower with your comrades."
"If you take a shower with Soap-"
"I won't do it; I don't want them to be hurt."
"Sun-"
"Yes, Captain?"
"Fuck"
"Something wrong?"
"Anyone could walk in here."
"Is that a problem for you when someone else sees me like this? I'm pretty covered up."
"For how long?"
I slowly started to remove my bikini top, freeing my breasts from the tiny fabric, my nipples already hardening under the friction of the water. Then I removed my bikini thong, throwing it in John's direction, who caught it with ease and couldn't stop staring down at my naked body like a predator who saw his prey.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "To be caught like this, your cunt wrapped around my cock?"
"No, sir, I only want to take a shower in peace," I said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
"Then stop teasing me," he growled, pulling me against him. His cock pressed against my stomach. "You've been teasing me the whole day, and now you're even walking in my shower."
"I'm not teasing you, sir."
"You fucking are," he snapped, losing his patience. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back roughly, forcing me to look into his blue eyes. "I've been hard for you all day," he whispered fiercely.
"You say it like it's a bad thing; it's natural, you know."
"It's not," he groaned. "It's fucking heaven." He pushed me against the shower wall, pinning me there with his body. His cock rubbed against me, leaving a wet trail of pre-cum on my skin. "You're making me lose my control, love."
"Why don't you give me what I want, John?"
His eyes flared hotter than a blowtorch at the thought of giving in to me. He knew exactly what I wanted. "Because for once I want to make it right, I do not want you to think I only want to fuck you."
"John please" He couldn't resist my pleas any longer. He lifted my leg and wrapped them around his waist, positioning himself at my entrance. He looked into my eyes, seeing the need and desire burning there. "You want this?" he asked, his voice rough with lust.
"Yes, John, I want you."
"Fuck, lovely, you make me lose any self-control."
"John, I know you want more than just sex; you do not need to prove anything to me."
"You're wrong," he growled, his eyes burning with passion. "I don't need to prove anything to you. But goddammit, I want to show you how much I fucking adore you." He lets me go and get back on the ground, trying his hardest not to just take me right now. He started to shower normally again as if nothing had happened between us.
I slowly started to soap up my body, putting the soap over my hard nipples and releasing a soft moan as my shower gel fell to the ground by accident. Of course, I bent over. Picking it up revealing a perfect sight of my glistering cunt to him.
John couldn't help but stare at my ass as I bent over, his cock twitching with desire. He forced himself to turn around and grab a towel, drying off his body fast as he tried to regain some semblance of control.
"Why are you already leaving, John?"
John turned around slowly, his eyes burning with raw passion. "Because I'm trying to be the man you deserve," he growled, "and that means controlling this damn cock of mine." He pulled me into his embrace, his erection pressing against my stomach.
"You are the man I deserve, John; you've always been the one I want."
"Say that again, lovely," he groaned, kissing me deeply. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing my ass and pulling me even closer. He broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes, his own filled with desire and love.
I wrapped my arms around him and deepened the kiss.
"God, you taste so fucking good," he murmured against my lips before trailing kisses down my neck and collarbone. His hands slowly roamed over my boobs, caressing them and slowly planting kisses on them. He spent a bit too much time sucking on my nipples; this man surely had an oral fixation.
I moaned softly as he stimulated my breasts. Johns's fingers traced delicate patterns on my stomach, making their way lower toward my soaked mound. His breath hitched as he finally found what he was looking for: my wet, swollen clit. "You're so fucking beautiful, the most beautiful woman on earth, do you know that?"
"Mhm, John, please."
"Your beautiful eyes, your smooth skin, and those gorgeous tits that fill my hands so perfectly," he whispered before teasing my clit with his thumb. "I want to devour you whole."
"Stop it. You make me crazy, John," I whined.
"I never stop complimenting you, especially when you're getting so flustered easily." He slowly starts to press one of his thick fingers into my puffy hole. But I wanted him to feel good, so I removed John Fingers from my sweet spot and fell on my knees for him, wanting to suck him off.
"What are you doing, lovely?" He lifted me from my knees. "You never been with a real men before? You always come first." With that, he pinned me against the shower and started to spread my lips again. "Didn't Keegan take care of your sweet cunt properly, always leaving you unsatisfied?" He circled his thumb on my clit while slowly pressing his thick fingers into my pleading hole again.
"John," I moaned his name; it felt so fucking good. His calloused fingers only added to the friction.
"That's it, lovely; scream my name." His voice was deep and husky as he began to pump his fingers in and out of my tight, wet hole. His thumb continued to rub my clit in circles, driving me wild with pleasure. "so fucking tight."
"John, please, I'm close." I felt embarrassed at how fast he got me to my height.
"Cum for Daddy, my beautiful Sun," he growled, kissing my neck. "Show me how much you love it." His fingers moved faster, pressing deeper as he teased my clit harder. "That's it, sweetheart. Let go". John held me tight, his hands pressing firmly against my hips as I rode out my orgasm. When my body relaxed beneath him, he pulled his fingers out of my slick pussy and gently kissed my neck. "That's my good girl," He licked my juices from his finger, moaning in pleasure.
"Can you give me a second one, lovely?"
I nodded slowly, completely drunk from my high.
"Good girl." He pushed my legs apart again and knelt in front of me. I never had a man who fucking kneeled in front of me; it had something alluring, especially when he was my fucking superior. He planted kisses on my thighs, leaving love bites on them marking his territory. John started to lick my sensitive lips, his tongue darting in and out of my hole, teasing my entrance.
"God, you taste like scotch feels."
"What?"
"Addicting, burning, and fucking exquisite." He had his things with words, making me clench around him all the time when he said the sweetest praises as if I were a goddess to him.
His other hand went to my clit, rubbing it gently before starting to pinch it between his fingers.
I pulled on his wet hair, pressing his tongue only further into my throbbing hole, his beard giving me sensations I never felt in his life, always coming close to my clit making me flinch from passion and pain at the same time.
"You like that, huh?" He chuckled against my flesh, loving the way I moaned and bucked beneath him. "You want more, don't you?" He continued to lick and suck on my clit while pinching it gently with his fingers.
I whined and shook and was barely able to stand straight. He held me in place, supporting my body weight and making me feel safe as he ate me out like a starved man. He licked every drop of me, not letting one sip of my delicious nectar go to waste. His moans vibrated against my clit and I asked myself if he enjoyed it even more than I did.
"That's it, my sweet girl," he murmured, his voice vibrating against my sensitive skin. "Cum for me again." His fingers slid deeper into my pussy, curling to find that perfect spot inside me.
"Oh my god, John." With a final flick of his tongue, I came hard, my juices running along his tongue, and he took them greedily, his tongue lapping up every last drop. He groaned as he felt my walls clenching around his fingers inside me. When I finally stopped shaking, he pulled away and grinned, "That was fucking fantastic; taste so divine almost made me cum from just your taste."
His beard was full of me, and his blue eyes still looked hungry at me. I wanted to return the favor so much; he just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I slowly moved my hand to his throbbing length. John let out a moan as he felt my hand on his length. "Oh, fuck, Sun," he still removed my Hand.
"Give me one more orgasm, and you can have my cock all you want, sweet girl," he said, looking at me with a serious expression.
"But John," I whined. I wasn't sure if I could take another one.
"No, but John, you asked for this, remember?" His fingers found their way again to my overstimulated clit.
"John"
He continued to tease me, circling my clit with his fingers as he leaned down to capture one of my nipples in his mouth.
"Mhm, please, too much, John."
"You can barely take it, can you?" He chuckled around, biting down on my nipple. "Just one more push and I'll give you what you want." He moved his fingers a little faster, his thumb pressing harder against my clit.
I shook under him, completely senseless and overstimulated. "That's it, my beautiful girl," he whispered. "Let go and cum for me." His thumb flicked over my clit as his fingers pumped into me.
"Almost there, I'm so proud of you," he moaned, my inner walls clenching around his fingers. "So tight, so fucking good." He thrust his fingers in and out of me faster, his thumb circling in tight circles.
"I'm going to cum John." From my face fell happy tears. God, am I crying?
His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Let go, love; I've got you." He pressed his thumb more firmly against my clit and started a firm rhythm with his fingers inside me pressing against my G-spot. "Cum for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you shake with pleasure."
I came screaming his name; the whole base probably heard this - my juices are spilling over his hand. His mouth left my nipple to capture the sweet sounds of my pleasure. "Fuck," he groaned, "you're so beautiful when you cum." He went down on his knees and started licking me clean.
"John, what are you doing?"
"I want to taste you," he murmured against my skin, his tongue swirling around my folds. He pushed two fingers back inside of me and started a slow rhythm as he licked and sucked on my abused clit. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"I thought you said only three." I whined; I couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't he be more selfish?
"I lied," he said with a wicked grin. "But only because I want you to cum again." He continued to finger me while his mouth worked on my clit, determined to make me come once more. "I can't help myself; you taste fucking divine."
I was so overstimulated that I came in Seconds. He was pleased with my response, his arousal growing as he tasted my sweet nectar. "Fuck, Sun," he groaned against my skin. "You're so fucking responsive." He slowly pulled away, his fingers leaving me feeling empty.
"Let me take care of you now, John, please."
He helped me down on my knees. "Tell me if it gets too uncomfortable, okay?"
"Please," I whispered as I wrapped my warm, soft lips around him, taking him deep into my mouth. I removed my lips from him and started to lick the precum away from his slit, tracing down his cockhead and kissing the veins on his cock. "The most beautiful dick I've ever seen."
John's breath caught in his throat at my words. He groaned lowly as I licked him clean and kissed his cock. "Fuck," he gasped, "you're going to drive me insane."
I just smiled and continued to worship his dick with small kisses. He reached down and gently guided my head, urging me to take more of him into my mouth. He couldn't believe the feelings coursing through him; the desire to feel my lips wrapped around his cock was almost overwhelming. "Goddamn," he whispered, "
I heard his plead and took him deeper almost completely, my nose tickling against his curls. John's hips began to thrust gently into my mouth, his hands tangling in my hair. "Fuck, love," he moaned, "you were made for this." He got closer and closer to the edge, his cock throbbing in my warm, wet mouth.
I bobbed my head up and down while playing with his full balls, squeezing them a bit. John groaned loudly, arching his back as he pushed deeper into my mouth. "Shit," he panted, "you're amazing." I fastened my pace, taking everything He gave me while gaging a bit because of His massive thickness.
He could feel me gagging on him, and it visibly only turned him on more. "Take it, love," he growled, "take every fucking inch." He thrust harder into my mouth, his pubic hair tickling against my face. He gripped my hair eagerly, not trying to hurt me but guiding me as he fucked my face. "Can I cum inside your throat, lovely?"
I nodded enthusiastically.
"Good girl," Price whispered before grabbing my face roughly. "Look at me when I cum." He groaned as I felt his cock pulsing, thick streams of cum shooting out into my throat. I looked at him with pure admiration and tried to swallow every sip of his cum as if it was the most delicious thing I had in my whole life. His cum was, in comparison, good, not salty; it tasted rich and bitter.
His hips were bucking wildly. "Fuck, Sun," he moaned, "you're incredible."
After his orgasm, I removed my lips with a loud pop, and then I started to lick the remaining cum drops of his dick while moaning. John's eyes fluttered shut as he felt my tongue swipe over his cock, savoring every last drop of his cum. "God, Sun," he breathed out, "you did so good for me, beautiful girl." His eyes softened with pure admiration.
He helped my wobbly legs up, drying and cleaning me up under the shower. It felt magical as he massaged the shampoo into my hair and washed my hair; it had such a romantic feeling that I felt truly worshiped. I put the body wash on his chest, playing with his hair, and looking at his scars, kissing them down. "Oh, love," he smiled, and I giggled, putting my head against his chest, and he wrapped me in a big bear hug.
"John? I want more." He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around me.
"More?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to fuck you?" His voice was low and husky, filled with desire.
"yes "
John smiled slowly. "Oh, love, I want nothing more, but I want to make it right, okay? After our third date, okay? It will be perfect, I swear, and I will show you how a man makes love to the woman he truly desires" He kissed my forehead. He was one of the guys to say make love, and a giggle escaped my mouth. I kind of liked it.
"I didn't know you were such a romantic."
John chuckled softly. "You know me better than that. But when it comes to you, I want it to be right. Our third date, agreed?" He wrapped the towel around his waist, pulling me close.
"Can we at least cuddle?"
"Of course, your room or mine?"
"yours"
"Perfect love." He helped me put on my yoga pants on my wet skin.
"And how do we get out without someone noticing?"
"I think after you screamed like this, it's too late with the descrition."
"Shut up, John!" He kissed me, while caressing my face with his thumb. He was so different from his Captain exterior, almost vulnerable around me.
We left the shower, trying not to draw any attention, and we didn't. Well, until the tall frame of Simon appeared next to us, showing us a death glare through his mask, but not saying a word since John was his superior.
His room was a bit bigger than mine and a lot cleaner, almost sterile, between some pictures and books. It smelled like tobacco and vanilla, and I could get used to that scent. He lay down on the bed, and I removed his shirt.
"I thought only to cuddle."
"I just want to steal your shirt; it smells so good."
"But then I do not have a shirt," he chuckled.
"Well, who cares? It looks better on me anyway."
"I suppose it does." He handed me his shirt, watching as I put it on. The fabric clung to my curves; the shirt was a bit too big, fitting me like a dress.
"You are beautiful," he said.
"You spoil me rotten with your compliments."
John leaned in, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. "I can't help it," he whispered against my skin. "You deserve to be spoiled." He trailed more kisses down my neck and collarbone before nipping at my earlobe playfully and hugging me tightly, almost manhandling me with his sheer size.
"My legs are sore because of you. If you make me run tomorrow in training, I'll die." Maybe this was my free-of-running card."
He pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh really? Well, maybe I'll make sure to take it easy on you tomorrow." He grinned wickedly, knowing full well that he would likely push me to my limits.
"You never take it easy on anyone."
He laughed, leaning in to kiss my nose. "That's because I never want anyone slacking off. But I promise, I'll make sure you can keep up." He smirked.
"Mhm, maybe you give my thighs a massage; it would make me happy."
Price raised an eyebrow at my suggestion, amused. "You want me to massage your thighs? Consider it done." He sat up and reached for my legs, starting to knead the muscles gently. I rubbed his hair gently while he massaged my thighs, and after he placed his head on them, cuddling with the soft flesh, both of us fell asleep.
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