#and then the girls find a way to get them to dance with each other

[no-144444]

prince charming- l.norris

summary: lando brings his niece to the ballet, who knew he'd find love?

pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader

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Another show finished, another day done. All you had to do was meet some children and show them around the stage. It was a thing the company had decided to do after every single show, and you were one of the only ballerinas who enjoyed it. Everyone else ran out of there as fast as they could, but you stayed around, in full costume, showing them everything. 

“Y/n! Y/n! Look!” Mila, the little girl that had been assigned to you pulled on your hand and you followed her over. “It’s your Prince Charming!” She pointed at your co-star, Richard, who was playing Prince Charming while you played Cinderella. He was lovely and one of your best friends, but Mila’s face fell when she saw him kiss another girl, aka his actual girlfriend Mia. “He’s kissing someone else!” she gasped, looking at you hurt. 

You smiled. “We’re only together in the show, remember? My name isn’t Cinderella, is it?” You chuckled and she nodded, laughing. “So, that’s Richard, and he’s Mia’s real-life Prince Charming, not mine.”

She nodded understandingly. “Do you have a Prince Charming?”

You internally cringed, why did kids always want to know about your love-life? “No,” you smiled. 

Her face lit up. “OH! Perfect! Uncle Lala!” she called for her uncle to come over as your face fell. “Uncle Lala will you be Y/n’s Prince Charming so she can be my Auntie and we can have fun forever?!” 

Mila’s excited face and the ridiculousness of her statement, reminding him she truly didn’t know how the world worked, made him giggle. And with Lando, when he starts, he doesn’t stop. It took a whole minute for him to stop laughing, while you sat there awkwardly. You knew who he was, you knew why he was laughing, but it was still rude. Just say no, dude. 

“Mila, it doesn’t work like that,” he explained. “She’s way too pretty for me,” he whispered, sitting down beside her, and in front of you. 

Your eyes widened and you looked down, confused at the entire situation. 

“I know she is,” Mila answered (subtle dig at her uncle, but alright). “But you could ask her to dance or something. Princesses like dancing.”

Lando shook his head. “I’m an awful dancer.”

“Why do you just try talking to her!” Mila scoffed, then ran off to go look at some of the set of the show. 

You looked up and met his eyes and you both started laughing. “I’m so sorry about her, she gets like this sometimes,” he admitted, a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“It’s alright, it happens sometimes,” you waved him off, an easy smile on your face. 

“You get hit on through people’s nieces a lot?” he questioned. 

You chuckled. “It’s more common than you think, people love the ballerina shtick.”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23,” you answered. “And I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Lando,” he held his hand out to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”

“NIce to meet you too,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Congratulations on the year you’ve had.”

“You watch F1?”

You nodded. “My mom has been into it since she was a kid, she gave that to me, so… yeah.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” he smirked and you chuckled. 

“Nico Hulkenberg,” you smirked. 

He chuckled. “Understandable,” he smiled, nodding. “Mila is probably off somewhere trying to destroy your set, I should probably go grab her.”

You both got up and smiled at each other. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Prince Charming,” you joked, he giggled. 

And that was that. 

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For the next few days, Lando could not get you out of his head. You were funny, kind, beautiful, good with Mila, everything he wanted in a person, yet he’d let you slip away. You weren’t even on social media, but he followed the company’s instagram and some of your friends to see pictures of you. He decided, once the season ended, he’d go back and find you. Maybe he really could become your Prince Charming. 

He joined the rest of the crowd in their standing ovation as you bowed, smiling brightly. He waited around and followed a few more people backstage to finally see you again. 

“Lando?” you questioned as you looked at him from behind. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he shrugged. “Happy holidays.”

You smiled. “So it is true,” your eyes shone with a hint of mischief. “You did follow the company account.”

He screwed his face up in a half-smile-half-grimace, he’d been caught. “You don’t have a public account, thought it would be weird to follow you on your private one.”

You chuckled. “I would’ve let you follow me,” you told him. “You are my Prince Charming, right?”

He beamed. “Right,” he nodded. “Dinner?”

“Let me get out of costume,” you agreed. You started to walk off and he didn’t follow, unsure what to do. You turned back and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

He was very happy he had brought Mila to the ballet.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[mayhasopinions]

Guys hear me out... Tangled dance... Ineffable Husbands... The Ball episode.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon Riley was a man who was quiet in bed. Occasionally, you’d hear a soft groan, or a curse escape his lips as he buried himself further inside of you. But other than that he was relatively mute in the bedroom.

Tonight, you decided, would be different. You would do anything in your power to hear those sweet noises you just knew your husband could make.

He was above you, languidly and silently thrusting into you, save for a small grunt here or there. He was very much a man that liked to be in charge, liked to control the pace.

So to say he was surprised when you flipped both of you over, was an understatement. You hovered yourself over him, your soaked core practically dripping onto his cock.

Simon looked up at you with a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. “Well, this is a treat. You wanting to take charge, baby?”

You bit your lip softly as you got yourself comfortable, your fingers finding purchase on Simon’s chest. “Wanna make you feel good, Si.”

When you rammed yourself back down onto his thick length, Simon let out euphoric moan causing your walls to clench down around him. He sounded fucking heavenly, and you needed more of it.

“Need to hear you, Si, please.” You begged, your eyes fluttering shut as you continued your steady pace. You always loved this position, you loved when Simon let you be in control. You loved to be the one fucking him.

Simon gave you a wicked smile, his hands giving your hips a firm squeeze as he helped guide your hips. “That right, sweet girl? Does me making some noise make that pretty little pussy clench around me?”

You bit back a moan at his filthy words as your walls clenched around him once more, your nails digging crescents into Simon’s muscular chest. “P-please.”

“Go on then, love. Be a good girl and make me.” Simon was an absolute tease in the bedroom, but you fucking loved it.

Your hands found Simon’s, moving them up slowly so that they now rested on your breasts, his large hands completely encompassing each of them. The way he squeezed at the supple flesh had your wet walls closing down around his length, practically holding it in a vice grip.

Simon truly wanted to tease you further, he loved riling you up to the point where you’d get that cute pout he’d loved so damn much- but the way you looked fucking yourself stupid on his cock, mixed with the way your pussy felt just so fucking good clenched around him, he lost all his willpower.

“Fuck, that’s my girl. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Simon groaned, his pretty scarred lips falling open, his brow furrowing slightly. A string of moans left his mouth as you dug your nails further into his chest, the movement of your hips growing frenzied as you chased your high. “So good for me.”

Simon no longer bit back his moans, no longer held in his soft cries of pleasure, he became a grunting, groaning mess beneath you. The pleasure for him was overwhelming, between the way you took charge, the way you clenched around him and the way you yourself sounded? He was fucking ruined.

And you fucking loved it.

[sunniepoo]

plsplspls more mean and icky stepbro!rafe x innocent/pure!reader 🙏 i lovee the way u write him 💕💕

maybe something like stebro!rafe teaching r how to kiss n get herself off n all that orr maybe sleepy sex <3

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

“ngh-uh” you pant, body restless as your fingers sloppily slip in and out of your dripping cunt. you’ve never felt like this, never felt so desperate; so unexplainably horny

you hadn’t expected the whine that left your mouth to come at the high volume that it did, but you were just so frustrated; your fingers weren’t hitting that one spot you craved them to. when all your friends said they did this , you expected it would be easy, not like this

all your thoughts were interrupted as a harsh knock on the door followed by the booming voice of rafe caused you to scramble, finding a spare top and shorts to chuck on before answering

“jesuuus christ open the door already” the older blonde shouts, pounding the door aggressively

you rush and open the door slightly to reveal the frame of a shirtless, messy haired rafe - you could see the slight pop of the veins in his arms and most importantly the bulge in his pants. “what’s taking you so long” you couldn’t miss the slight smirk and teasing tone coating his voice “hm?” he questions again

“uh-j-just” the natural panic was evident in your eyes as they widened and your eyebrow raised like a deer caught in headlights “ just tired”

you couldn’t help the groan that comes out as he enters your room. “raaafe” your whine to stop him falls on deaf ears as he sits on your bed. “please leave” you huff out, just desperate to get back to working your pussy away and get the release you’ve been dying for; he was ruining everything

“c’mon sit” the older cameron pats of his lap, calling you over as if you were his little puppy “raafe please go” you would’ve typically never gave this much attitude to the brooding male, him acknowledging your presence was a once in a lifetime thing

“don’t make me repeat myself” despite his menacing tone his gaze was enchanting, you’ve never understood how someone so beautiful could be so cruel at times.

with a couple of huffs and puffs you find yourself making your way over to the tall blond, making yourself home at one of his legs as the large surface of his palm guided you onto him.you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as your clit rubbed against the front of his leg

it was confusing to say the least - why was he being so nice? but you were just a girl and it was so so so tempting to just lean back into the chest of the older cameron , letting his warmth fill you

you could feel his warm breath fall up on your shoulders, tingling the bottom of your ears “w-what are you doing here” you finally breathe out, finding it impossibly hard to not just rub against his leg

“just wanted to let you know that our rooms are right next to each other” he whispers, it was so oddly sensual and it couldn’t help but make your poor little pussy clench and pulse around nothing. it made your head tumble you shouldn’t feel this way about him; not your new big brother

“i already know tha-” you start but are interrupted by the boy beneath you, eyes looking at you intently while his fingers dance along your waist

“and the walls aren’t as thick as you think, so you know i hear everything”

oh!

you were speechless - quite literally, you opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a small squeak came out and before you know it tears were welling up and your eyes as you were starting to breakdown

“hey hey hey” he rushes to speak, rubbing a what was meant to be soothing arm across the sides of you but only causes you to hide in shame “don’t stress… i came here to tell you that i can y’know help” his fingers making their way down to your thighs, sliding up to cup your pussy “just some lessons”

“what” you didn’t expect your words to come out so harshly, as you look at him with wide curious eyes - could he really?

and that’s how you found yourself legs spread open, with rafe cameron fingers rubbing on your sensitive little clit, one finger slipping into your cunt reaching oh so deep. they had turned less into lesson but more into your older stepbrother straight up fingering you in your bed

“oooooh” you moan out, his finger knuckle deep in your needy little pussy hitting places you couldn’t even imagine “feels so ngh- good” he couldn’t help but stick another finger into your wet cunt watching your head go to complete bliss as it clenches desperately around the length of his fingers while he gently pistons them in and out

“could make you feel like this all the time” he breathes out, his own hard on grinding against the plump of your ass “little sluts like you love it”

the coarse whine that left your mouth signalled your upset as you looked at him wide eyed with your lips pouting. the breathy laugh that leaves him is followed by a soft kiss to the tops of your head “s’kay you’re my little slut”

“i-i ngh- don’t think” you could barely make out words as his fingers speed up to an impossibly fast pace, the coil in your stomach was starting to loosen and oh it felt so good! “w-we should do this agai-” the moan that left your mouth was almost pornographic, heaving loudly as his thumb goes to harshly rub on your clit

“hm and why is that” he teases increasing his pace and pressure, hitting all the right spots - this was so so wrong

“you’re family; you’re my stepbrother” you felt yourself finally get closer, like that ache was finally going to be cured- he must’ve had magic in his fingers with the way he was making you feel

and just as that coil in your stomach was about to unfold, he stops and even with your grinding against him and the endless whimpers he doesn’t continue

“why did you stop?” the question comes out a lot more pathetic than you expected, “well you said it, we shouldn’t be doing this, so i guess i’ll just g-” despite his words he makes no efforts to leave but that doesn’t stop your from whining and holding him tightly

“no no no…. i didn’t mean it” you admit, voice all weak and needy - all you want-no needed was him to fuck you with his fingers all messy and mean, there was no point in trying to hide it

“that’s my girl” the soft kiss is a stark contrast to the rough and nasty pistoning of his fingers, messing up your poor cunt but bringing you closer to your high

“yes yes yes” you thanked god that no one was home tonight as the loud moan left your mouth as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, your high washing over you - leaving you putty in his arms

maybe rafe wasn’t so mean after all

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

[5sospenguinqueen]

Forgetful Flirtation - Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader

Summary: A heavy celebration leads to a husband forgetting his wife. And a team who won't let him forget it.

Warnings: Fluff. Swearing. Slight age gap.

Requested: Yes by anon.

F1 Masterlist

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mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by kimi.antonelli, valterribottas and others

mercedesamgf1 LEWIS HAMILTON WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX 🇬🇧

13,331 comments

totowolff you did us proud. you deserved this, lewis. enjoy 

landonorris congrats mate

yn_wolff oh, lewis, what an amazing drive. well deserved. i’m so happy for you 

→ mercedesamgf1 we can confirm that she cried 

→ lewishamilton 🫶🏾

pierregasly congrats champ! 

roscoelovescoco well’s done’s dad’s 

→ yn_wolff it was the luck of roscoe in the garage. maybe we should have him every weekend

→ mercedesamgf1 we agree

georgerussell63 you deserve it, mate 🍾 i’ll buy you a round later

→ user1 are they going out together later?

→ user2 wouldn’t surprise me if the whole team celebrated this win

yn_wolff just posted

liked by iamrebeccad, carmenmmundt and others

yn_wolff team dinner to celebrate hubby’s, and especially lewis’, success 

3,644 comments 

totowolff meine schöne frau

→ yn_wolff i love you

francisca.cgomes oh okay so we’re dressing hot tonight?

→ yn_wolff i know you’re complimenting me but don’t make it sound like we didn’t compare outfits for tonight. you even know what kind of underwear i’m wearing! 

→ francisca.cgomes i enjoyed those pictures 

→ pierregasly pardon?

→ user3 yn is such a girl’s girl 

user4 that hand placement though 🤤

→ user5 she’s really not good for toto’s reputation

→ user6 she’s making it look like he’s groping her

→ user7 can you blame him? look at her. she’s hot liked by yn_wolff

user8 um, anyone else find it really unprofessional that she’s publicly admitting to sending images of her underwear to people?

→ francisca.cgomes one person, and i’m her friend?

→ user8 it just reflects badly on her husband who has an image to maintain 

→ totowolff no, it doesn’t. she is her own person

user9 unlike you crying bitches, i love that toto is married to someone slightly younger so that we get this content 

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Weaving through the throng of bodies, you scowled as you dodged another couple gyrating against each other near the entrance to the VIP section. Your glass was empty and your shoes kept sticking to the floor, tacky from a cocktail of spilled drinks. Scanning the crowd, you scowled as you made your way over to the bar. How was it possible to lose a 6’5 billionaire in a crowd of shorter drivers?

Gesturing wildly to a crowd of people, the man of the day caught your eye and you hurried over to him. 

“Lewis, have you seen Toto anywhere? I can’t find him.” You nibbled anxiously at your bottom lip. 

“Last I saw, he was with Bono asking the DJ to play 80s music,” laughed Lewis, recalling the image of his team principal and engineer swaying together, a feather boa draped across the pair of them. 

You thanked him before turning and continuing on your crusade. All around you, familiar faces were wrapped around their partner’s (or women they had just met), dancing to the music or whispering in their ears. Alcohol had been flowing freely for the past three hours and the majority of the people in the club were more than inebriated. The hours had passed and you were ready for a warm shower and for your husband to tuck you into bed. Yet, he had decided to elude you.

Toto’s dress shirt hung loosely off your frame, having been draped around you earlier whilst you stood outside for some fresh air. You had simply rubbed a hand down your arm, trying to dispel the goosebumps that appeared, and there he was, bundling you up. That had been an hour ago and you hadn’t seen him since. Inhaling deeply, his scent surrounded you. The only comfort you had as you began to wonder whether he’d left you here in his drunken state.

Lando was up on the platform flapping his arms in a dramatic manner and messing around with the decks, directing you to where you thought you’d spotted a tall figure shrouded in the shadows. 

“Yn!” Bono greeted, beaming at you through the pink feathers enveloping his face. 

“Having a good night, Bono?” You asked, smiling at the sight of him. “Toto, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” 

“Well, hello there,” your husband drawled, peering down at you with a heated gaze. “Come here often?” 

“What?” You laughed, leaning closer to hear him over the music. Surely you had misheard. 

“I would’ve remembered seeing a woman as beautiful as you before.” 

Beside you, Bono was shaking with silent laughter, gesturing wildly at someone in the distance. Probably summoning more people to bear witness to the peculiarity happening before you. Sidling up to him, you wrapped a hand around his bicep under the guise of stabilising yourself. You felt the muscle under your hand flex.

“Careful, Mr Wolff. If you keep being nice to me, I might have to take you home.”

His arms wrapped around your lower back, pulling you close against him. A heart stopping smile filled his face. “I don’t think I’d object to that. I would, however, like your name first.” 

“Is he being serious?” Somebody whispered behind you, earning a wave of raucous laughter from the Mercedes team that had gathered. 

“You smell nice.” Toto continued, nose nuzzling into the ticklish spot under your ear. You arched against his touch. He may not remember your marriage certificate but he clearly knew where best to tease you. 

Running your fingers down his arm, you grabbed his left hand, tracing circles across the back of it. His wedding ring - part of a matching set - glistened in the strobe lighting. Fiddling with his fingers, you raised your hand up to your face, pulling it into his periphery. You twisted the band around his finger, letting it catch the light and his eye. 

“I’m sorry but I don’t date married men.”

You dropped your husband’s hand, sliding out from his hold. Turning away from him, you snaked through the crowd and away from him. Dazed, Toto looked at his left hand in bewilderment. He slid the band off his finger, looking at the date engraved inside. Opposite him, his team continued to cackle at his misfortune. He was in so much trouble tomorrow. 

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yn_wolff added to her story

liked by mercedesamgf1, francisca.cgomes and others

georgerussell63 replied to slide 2 at least he remembers you there → yn_wolff you keep teasing him about that and you might seriously find yourself without a seat next season → georgerussell63 don’t say that. i know you’d protect me  → yn_wolff don’t push your luck → i’ll see you for dinner on thursday though? → georgerussell63 wouldn’t miss it

francisca.cgomes replied to slide 3 how are you awake enough to do all that? → i feel like i’ve died. pierre keeps bringing me cups of tea but i can’t even lift my head to drink them  → yn_wolff tbf, kiks, you drank far more than i did 😂 → plus toto has been doing everything for me despite looking like death himself → i think he feels bad for forgetting i was his wife → francisca.cgomes at least you know even drunk you’re the only woman he wants? 

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mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and others

mercedesamgf1 the silver arrows know how to party

4,463 comments

georgerussell63 yeah and our team principal knows how to forget his wife 

→ totowolff george, would you like to stay with mercedes next season?

→ yn_wolff don’t threaten your drivers online, dear

→ georgerussell63 i’m only speaking the truth

→ user10 george, you don’t look like you were in any state to remember things either

yn_wolff can somebody blow that photo up and print it off for me. i think i need it in my bedroom

→ user11 you get to go home with the real thing, leave the photo for us 

→ yn_wolff i almost didn’t

→ totowolff not you as well, liebling

→ user12 what does this mean? 

lewishamilton hell of a party 

pierregasly maybe don’t let your team principal join next time

alex_albon happy wife happy life probably isn’t working for toto right now 

maxverstappen1 i think we should get toto drunk before race weekends, maybe he’ll forget his strategies 

→ user13 what does this mean? let us innnnn

totowolff i’ll be speaking to all your team principals tomorrow about your behaviour 

→ charles_leclerc yes, dad 

→ landonorris oh, no. now we’ve done it 

→ georgerussell63 who do you talk to about mine?

yn_wolff you forgot your wife, mein herz, i don’t think your scary boss act is going to work today 

→ user14 he did what?!

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Requests open for smau's

Tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[nervoussagittarius]

y/n and matt being the hottest couple for 4 minutes straight

matt sturniolo x influencer!reader

summary: hot moments caught on camera between matt and his girlfriend

warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, i think that’s it

★ “hey baby will you film a tiktok with me?” you asked, lifting your head off of matt’s chest. it was a simple lip sync video to ‘spin bout u’ by drake. matt replied with a small nod before ushering the two of you over to his desk chair, placing you on his lap. you sent him a smile of gratitude.

matt wrapped his arms around you pulling you deeper into his chest. his head rested on your shoulder from behind. your phone was propped up on a random drink bottle, and you could feel matt’s eyes on you as you set up a good angle. his gaze was set on your face through the screen in front of him. a slight smirk could be found on his lips.

when the sound was heard you both easily remembered the words and began to sing along.

put hands on you in the past

insecure because your body is precious

matt’s hands began to roam from your abdomen to trail down the sides of your thighs. you glanced back at him slightly to see a devious look on his face.

four words when i think about them is crusty, musty, dusty, rusty

both of your focuses were back on your phone screen for only a second before you found each others eyes.

eight words then i think about us is fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me

you looked up at matt through your lashes before your hand reached around to play with his hair. the playful look in his eyes was replaced with a seductive one, not going unnoticed by your fans.

★ today you decided to get ready and do your makeup while on a live stream. this wasn’t uncommon. you often went live when you were by yourself or bored. it felt like a facetime call with your friends. you spent a majority of the time answering questions or talking about your day thus far.

matt walked into your house and upon hearing your talking he assumed you were on a phone call. he made his way to your room to find you sitting in front of your mirror. he quickly walked to you and placed his hands on your shoulders to greet you.

his mouth found your neck soon after and began placing short pecks on it. “hi baby. i missed you.” he said in between kisses. a blush took over your face in no time. you hoped the live stream viewers didn’t catch on to the needy tone in matt’s voice.

your comments came flying in. all talking about matt’s actions. “matt. i’m live.” you got out as fast as you could.

his head quickly popped up to notice the placement of you phone only to put his head hidden back into your shoulder with a groan of faked annoyance. you laughed at his actions. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know.” he drug out, causing you to laugh even harder.

you spent the next 5 minutes covering up the red mark forming on your neck.

★ you had finally convinced matt to go to one of tara’s parties. he missed out on her one million party and you were destined to make sure he had a fun at this one.

with the help of nick and chris you were able to hype him up enough. you went as far as giving him little incentives if he reached certain time stamps throughout the night. matt wasn’t complaining about this in the slightest. what you both were unaware of though, was that tara had multiple people filming her party that night.

“will you come dance with me?” you asked matt as you slid your hands up his chest. he wasn’t going to deny his girl a dance. any chance to be close to you was enough for him.

matt kept a comforting hand on your lower back as he directed you both through seas of drunk partygoers. his hands found your waist as you both moved to the rhythm of the song playing.

“you look beautiful. i’m so in love with you.” matt had said while leaning into your ear. it was hard to hear what he was saying over the loud music.

“thank you for coming. i’m glad you’re having a good time.” you responded in the same manner. the song changed and you began to slowly grind into matt at the new tempo. matt’s grip tighten on you and you ran your hands through his hair and down his neck.

tara posted her video a week after the party and at this point most occurrences were put to the back of your head. almost instantly you and matt were being tagged in endless videos of you two throughout the night. a fan favorite was you guys dancing together.

comments:

GODDAMN

i don’t know which one i want to be atp

i think they do these things on purpose now

they have to know they’re the hottest couple out there

i must be doing something wrong.

an: a bit shorter but i think they’re cute and i love matt x influencer

taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt @luvr4miya @hpyjw @unbruisable @watercolorskyy @elliewrites1 @rheaasturn @slxt4matt @mmay4ever @aurizp

[okaylikeschaewon]

Jamboree

~6k words, smut kinda

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“Wonyoung, I’m not sure about this-”

“Stop thinking,” Wonyoung’s palm ripped across your cheek, leaving a mark that you would most definitely feel the next morning. “And stop wasting my fucking time.”

Tonight was going to be one for the history books, you thought to yourself silently, taking a moment to appreciate how you ended up in this position.

Your work had required you to show up at this formal event full of young adults who had more money than sense and obnoxiously rich old people. Admittedly, not that you weren’t well off by any means, you did feel incredibly out of place. Your job was to just show up and shake a few hands to make sure it was known that your company was present, other than that you were free to ‘enjoy’ the event. While most of the ambitious young people here were trying to make connections to further their careers, you found it difficult to pretend to care.

The venue was quite the spectacle, a blend of classic architecture and modern elegance, but it lacked any sort of soul. Lush velvet drapes framed the tall windows, each showcasing a view of the meticulously landscaped gardens outside. The gardens, though beautiful, appeared untouched, as if meant only for admiration rather than exploration. Overall, the venue exuded an air of extravagance, yet it felt almost too perfect - as if it were a stage made of artificial props.

Just like the atmosphere of the lavish mansion was void of allure, the people inside lacked any form of charm. Despite being impeccably dressed, they seemed to embody the very definition of tedium. Their expressions a mix of forced politeness and mild disinterest. Conversations unfolded in monotones, punctuated by the occasional polite chuckle that felt rehearsed rather than genuine.

That was, at least, until your eyes found Wonyoung. She was a princess amongst peasants - a diamond amongst coal. From the moment you saw her roaming from waiter to waiter, collecting every hors d'oeuvre she could get her hands on while impressively avoiding the dreary conversations plaguing the event, you just knew you had to talk to her.

The greatest surprise of them all? Once you finally managed to find an opening, you discovered she was actually amazing. Not just amazing, but perfect in a way. The two of you clicked instantly, it was marvelous. Never have you in your entire life felt your energy match so instantaneously with someone before. It almost - no, it definitely - made this lifeless event worth your time.

That being said, this tiny little girl had no business being this intimidating. It had to be her thanks to her confidence, something she was far from lacking, wearing a dress that barely made it to her thighs, flashing her lacy black panties to the entire world. She just had this aura, it was difficult to explain. Yet, it was even more difficult to say no to whatever she wanted, which was exactly how you found yourself in this position. Well, truthfully, her convincing nature was in part aided by the countless glasses of pretentiously priced champagne coursing through your veins.

Regardless, even if it was by pure chance, you were grateful to have been selected from the sea of Dior Sauvage that was currently downstairs, still flailing their bodies around in the name of ‘dancing’. In the seven or so minutes between your eyes finding Wonyoung and the start of your conversation with her, you had seen her reject at least four advances. But you knew. The second you made eye contact with her, you knew.

“Are you going to close the door or do you plan on standing there like an idiot all night?” she scowled as she bent down and slipped off her stilettos.

By the time you shut the door behind you - making sure to lock it - Wonyoung had walked across the room towards the dresser by the window and had begun using the mirror to adjust her hair. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room anymore, and you, evidently, weren’t nearly as important as her hair.

The long brown strands cascading delicately down her back, flowing like a river of rich chocolate. Each individual hair shimmering as the moonlight hit from countless angles. The elegance, the grace, every movement further accentuating all the reasons this girl had to be the most supercilious woman in the building. Again, this girl had every right to be as confident as she was.

After who knows how long she spent admiring herself in the mirror, she turned on her heels to face you. A subtle frown formed on her lips as she crossed her arms, giving you a concerned look. Maybe it wasn’t concern, but it was something.

“You’re bleeding.”

Not what you expected her to say, but the scarlet smear left on your finger when you wiped your cheek confirmed it was indeed true. Only now did the sound of your heart thumping calm down enough for you to notice the sharp stinging coming from the cut.

“Huh, would you look at that,” you noted, staring at your finger.

Wonyoung stared down at her hand, where the metal band of one of her rings was blatantly stained with a patch of your blood. She looked away, spinning the ring off her finger and placing it on the dresser behind her. It seemed as though she was considering an apology, but she also didn't seem to comprehend the concept. It made you think - has this princess of a girl ever offered an apology to anyone before?

After grabbing a tissue, she crossed the room and approached you. She dabbed at your cheek, cleaning the wound. She didn't even look up at you; rather, her determined expression was fixated on the cut. Once she finished, she took your hand and wiped the blood off your finger as well before she crossed the room once more, tossing the tissue in the garbage and turning back to stare at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, trying your best to hold back your smile.

“That was an accident,” she continued, stepping slowly until she was directly in front of you.

“It’s fine.”

“I wasn’t apologizing.”

“Oh.”

Words hung suspended between the two of you as the palpable silence enveloped you. Ignoring the minor inconvenience of her assault, Wonyoung brought you into this room for a reason. Unspoken desire filled the air as your eyes locked together. The speaking part was taken care of, that happened downstairs, now was time for action. Yet, for some reason, both of you stood there waiting for the other, a ridiculous game of chicken since you both knew what the other wanted.

“What are you waiting for?” Wonyoung clicked her tongue, finally conceding.

Good question. The answer, the one you just knew Wonyoung was looking for, came when you picked her up in your arms and tossed her onto the king-sized mattress. Before any more noise could follow up the high-pitched squeak of shock that escaped her lips, you took off your coat and fell on top of her body and sealed your lips against hers.

A surge of heat ignited between you and Wonyoung. The connection was overwhelming, causing the world around you to fade in and out of existence. Each subtle movement of your mouths was full of urgency, as if time itself had paused. The fact that you met this girl barely an hour ago had not an ounce of relevance in your mind.

While the pain in your cheek was a long forgotten souvenir, a new piercing sensation shot up your spine as Wonyoung’s nails dug deep into your back. You gasped into her mouth before biting down on her lip, only for her to bite yours back even harder. The raw, visceral intensity of the coppery essence hitting your taste buds made you lust for her even more - something that, a minute ago, you would not have imagined was conceivable.

Each subtle movement of your tongue was with purpose, exploring the delicate contours of hers, your tongues dancing together with intoxicating urgency. She met each of your movements with her own, even now matching your energy to a tee. The silent conversation consisting of flicks and swirls engulfed the world around you, overpowering even the thumping music downstairs where Mozart had been replaced by some generic club noise of the youth.

While Wonyoung’s hands explored every inch of your back, your own hand began roaming over her curves, tracing her body to give you a perfect image of her frame despite your eyes being closed. As your hands slid past her hips, giving them a rough but quick press with your fingers, your lips parted for the first time.

“Yes,” Wonyoung gasped, her chest heaving up and down against your body.

That was it, all she was going to give you before she reached up with her hands to cup your face, pulling you back into a kiss.

With newfound inspiration, you swiftly slipped your hands up Wonyoung’s dress. As your fingers snaked their way up her thigh towards the waistband of her underwear, they paused for just a second, leaving the smallest hint of timidness. A hint that evaporated into thin air as soon as Wonyoung gasped softly into your mouth, a signal of provocation that filled your hands with boldness.

As difficult as it was, you lifted yourself up away from Wonyoung’s mouth until you were holding yourself right above her. The two of you locked eyes for just a brief second before, in one swift motion, you yanked down the lacy black panties you had been getting peeks of all night.

Wonyoung gasped again, shutting her eyes tight and arching her back towards the roof. You took the opportunity, leaving her panties at her knees, and lunged forward into her neck like a moth to a flame.

Your lips pressed deeply into her skin, absolutely intoxicated by her taste. A mix of sweetness and warmth, a temptation that left you craving more. Each consecutive kiss was met with a hitch of her breath that just made you want her even more.

Inch by inch you moved lower down her body, pressing your mouth against her clavicle a few times before slipping lower into the neckline of her dress. Wonyoung’s slender fingers pressed into the back of your head, shoving your mouth deep into her chest, pressing your face against the thin fabric covering her soft breasts. Urgency began taking over, an insatiable hunger from within, and you began lowering yourself even more. You slid all the way backwards, dropping to your knees at the edge of the bed, and you finally placed your gaze on your true prize.

Just a few irrelevant inches in front of you, Wonyoung’s pussy was there for your taking. Those delicate folds radiating tantalizing allure, glistening with the essence of desires. Each curve of her skin seemed to call to you, urging you to forget everything and to just shove your face as deep up her dress as physically possible.

Then, abruptly, your view was blocked by Wonyoung’s gentle fingers.

“You okay?” you asked, looking up at her as she sat up at the edge of the bed.

All that confidence, that lust, that demand, it all turned to a facade in the span of seconds. In front of you wasn’t that same intimidating princess that you met earlier in the night. It was a vulnerable and beautiful girl. Even after the sudden change, you were still just as attracted to the girl; If anything, you were more attracted to her vulnerable side.

“Wonyoung?”

“Yeah, sorry,” she shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’m good, let’s do this.”

Something just felt a little bit off. Earlier, she was so adamant about fucking you, almost to the point where you were starting to question if she was secretly part of the party’s entertainment. If you hadn’t seen her reject those other guys, you maybe would have believed she was being paid to be here, but still something felt not right.

“If you’re having doubts-”

“No, come on,” Wonyoung interrupted you. “I want this.”

“Then lean back,” you instructed her, deciding to take it slow until you were able to shake this feeling you had.

Wonyoung listened to you and leaned back on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge. You gently spread them apart from the knees, resulting in her tiny dress riding up her body slightly. You softly grabbed her hand and moved it away, unblocking your view of her glistening pussy. As you stared at her pussy again, you helped her untangle her panties from her feet before tossing them across the room without any thought.

Your mouth began salivating uncontrollably, you just needed a taste of Wonyoung’s pussy. Showing just the slightest bit of restraint, you first grabbed both of her hands and interlocked your fingers with hers before pushing forward.

Her whole body shivered as your warm breath teased her skin, igniting the tension in the room into an inferno of heat. As soon as your lips made contact with Wonyoung’s pussy, your world flipped upside down. The subtle - yet intoxicating - taste of tangy sweetness lingered on your tongue, sending waves of warmth through your entire body.

With each exploration of Wonyoung’s pussy, your connection with her deepened. New sensations were discovered, each one hitting like a truck, overwhelming you time after time. You’ve never tasted a pussy that has had you this addicted. You wanted it all - greed began taking over.

Your lips pressed down hard against her skin, creating a seal between you and her. Electricity shot through you as Wonyoung’s breath quickened. Warmth and desire attacked both your taste and hearing now as the next lick of Wonyoung’s tantalizing mix left her moaning into the thickening air of the luxurious bedroom.

“Oh fuck,” Wonyoung moaned softly, squeezing hard against your fingers.

Her addictive sweetness was overwhelming. You were losing track of time, all you could focus on was your attempt to quench this undeniable craving for her body. Nothing could stop you, not as long as she kept responding to each touch, each lick, soft gasps escaping her lips - It was a dangerous loop.

Only a few more - or maybe it was a lot more - moments of pleasure were left for you to enjoy. Before you knew it, Wonyoung’s body seized up, quivering against your lips. A rush of exhilaration surged through you as Wonyoung’s melodic gasps of pleasure began caressing your ears.

It was as if the world had exploded in a cascade of warmth. Her fingers had this newfound strength that made you feel like she was about to snap your hand in half, and her body began to arch even more as every muscle in her body tensed up. The lovely trembling of her body kept your mouth glued to her pussy, sharing in the ecstasy of her climax.

The fulfillment you had coursing through your body as you finally lifted your mouth off her pussy was impossible to compare. You stood up, admiring the absolute mess of a girl laying on the edge of the bed before you. There was no denying it, your cock was begging to be freed, to get a chance with Wonyoung’s body. Just as you unbuckled your pants and began lowering them, the most soul-crushing sound in the universe hit your ears.

“What the hell, who locked this?”

“It shouldn’t be, guests aren’t supposed to be up here,” a second voice answered, giving the door another shake. “Maybe someone locked it earlier. Here, I have a key somewhere.”

“Shit,” you whispered to Wonyoung before quickly buckling your pants back up. “We gotta go.”

She nodded rapidly, suddenly recovering from the intensity of her orgasm just a minute ago, fear filling her pupils as she stood up and froze. You quickly grabbed your jacket and her heels before pointing to the bathroom. Wonyoung ran across the room towards the bathroom as you followed, pausing briefly to shove her ring from the dresser into your pocket - you didn’t want to leave any evidence.

If your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest, you would have loved to admire the beauty of the bathroom. It was like entering a luxurious spa retreat. The air was infused with a subtle blend of essential oils that were supposed to calm you down - unfortunately they weren’t working. The walls, creamy marble decorated with gold highlights, created a feeling of warmth and tranquility - unfortunately this also wasn’t working.

“There,” you pointed towards a massive window above the tub. “Hold these,” you handed Wonyoung her heels.

As you put on your coat quickly, you noticed again just how terrified Wonyoung was. You took a second to pause, ignoring the dire situation you had found yourself in, and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. Her cheeks burned bright crimson as you turned back to the window, climbing onto the edge of the tub to open it.

“It’s a bit of a jump,” you admitted, looking back over your shoulder as you leaned out the window. “You trust me?”

Wonyoung nodded, still unable to speak. She stepped forward, taking your outstretched hand, and leaned over to look out the window with you.

“I changed my mind,” she gasped, dropping her heels into the tub below you in panic.

“Hey,” you wrapped your arms around her. “I don’t know that much, but I do know the host of this place isn’t one to be messed with.”

“But I’m scared,” she whispered quietly into your chest.

“I know,” you let go of her and held both of her shoulders, staring her directly in the face. “I won’t make you jump, but if you trust me, I’m telling you it’ll be fine.”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting to the window before returning to you, but then she took a deep breath and nodded.

“Perfect,” you took her heels and dropped them out the window. You could see the pain in her eyes at the delay before the sound of them hitting the grass, but all you could do was smile meekly at her. “Alright, I’m going to go first and then catch you, but then you need to promise me that you’ll be able to jump alone.”

“I promise,” Wonyoung answered with conviction.

“Good girl,” you gave her another kiss before climbing up into the window. The edge was sharper than you expected, and you ended up cutting your hand. “Fuck, be careful, it’s sharp.”

“Got it,” Wonyoung replied, helping support your body as you climbed up.

As carefully and quickly as you could, you grabbed the ledge and lowered your body out the window. After taking a deep breath, looking up at Wonyoung’s face of concern above you, you let go.

All things considered, the fall went as well as it could have. It honestly wasn’t that bad as the soft grass made for a perfect landing spot. Without wasting time inspecting for any injuries, you turned your head upwards to where Wonyoung looked frozen again.

“Come on,” you whispered, knowing that you couldn’t yell. “I got you, just do it.”

Sweat began dripping from your forehead as you began losing hope. She wasn’t going to jump. She was too scared. Your heart began thumping out of your chest. Maybe you should have lowered her down first. Maybe you should have just opened the door and tried to make an excuse.

None of that mattered, though, as suddenly you saw Wonyoung’s feet come out of the window. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched her lower herself as low as she could. She looked down at you, making eye contact for a moment, a moment where time froze, before suddenly letting go.

It all happened so fast. One second you were looking up at her, the next second you heard her scream, and now you were on the grass with Wonyoung’s body on top of yours.

“Are you okay?” you quickly asked as adrenaline shot through your body.

“I think so,” she answered as she hyperventilated in your arms. “Sorry about the scream.”

She took a moment to compose herself before getting off you and standing up. Only once she held her hand to help you up did you notice how intense the pain in your side was.

It was excruciating, the worst pain you have ever felt. You almost wanted to fall back to the ground in a crying fit, but you somehow - with the power of more adrenaline most likely - ignored it and kept your head straight.

“Grab your shoes, let’s go,” your voice far more stable than even you expected.

Without hesitation, Wonyoung followed your instructions and put her heels back on.

“Shit,” she gasped, looking down at her dress.

There was a large tear on the side, exposing a patch of skin on her hip towards her back.

“It’s fine, just stay close to me,” you held your arm out for her to nestle herself next to you. It hurt like hell when her body pressed against your side, but you kept ignoring it. “We’ll have to walk around the building, if anyone asks anything just say you’re my wife and we stepped out for some fresh air and time alone.”

“Oh, sure,” Wonyoung began flushing profusely at the plan.

WIthout giving it a second thought, you lowered your arm around her body and pressed your palm against the part of her dress that had the tear to cover up the skin before guiding her along the path. The two of you swiftly walked around the house, silently admiring once again how beautiful it was. You kept your heads down, making sure not to draw any attention from the windows.

Luckily, everyone inside was seemingly preoccupied in their own little worlds, not surprising considering the pretentious nature of the event. You made it to the front without any issue, all that was left was a cartoonishly long driveway. By the front door stood a couple who seemed to be having a very heated argument.

“Just keep going,” you muttered quietly to Wonyoung, walking past the couple as they began raising their voices.

It was only a couple of steps before Wonyoung began giggling at the slurs being launched into the night sky by the couple before taking off as fast as her heels allowed down the driveway. You chased after her, laughing as the pain in your side disappeared for a moment.

“I think we’re good,” you began panting with your hands on your knees as you caught your breath.

“That was insane,” Wonyoung laughed, falling to the ground in front of you.

“I know right? That was…” your voice trailed off as you looked up and caught a glimpse up Wonyoung’s dress. “Oh fuck.”

“What?”

“First of all, sorry, I didn’t mean to look,” you turned your head away from her. “But we definitely left something in the room.”

“What are you… Oh!” Wonyoung squealed, pulling her legs together tight. “You pervert!”

“Seriously?”

“I’m kidding,” Wonyoung giggled, standing up to her feet, making what seemed to be an obviously intentional ‘mistake’ of flashing her pussy at you again before fixing her dress. “It’s fine, no way they’ll be able to trace them back to me.”

“Good,” you held your hand out for her to take. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

As the night wore on, the two of you strolled across the waterfront town, which was fortunately in a very upscale and safe area. The velvety darkness, punctuated by the tranquil glow of the moon, brought you an otherworldly level of peace - especially after the intensity of your evening.

The streets were serene, only disturbed by the sound of Wonyoung’s heels hitting the pavement in a gentle rhythm and the occasional rustle of leaves as the nightly breeze flew past you. From time to time you’d hear the sounds of laughter coming from people on their own nightly adventures being carried by the crisp and cool air.

“Oh, I’m an idiot,” you stopped abruptly and took off your coat. “Sorry, mind was on other things.”

“I considered asking,” Wonyoung giggled as she accepted your coat and draped it around her shoulders. “But I figured you weren’t really the gentlemen type after I caught you looking up my dress.”

“Oh come on,” you protested. “First of all, accident. Secondly, you didn’t catch me, I confessed.”

“I know, I’m just giving you a hard time,” Wonyoung giggled softly. “We still need to finish what we started by the way,” she added, giving you a little nudge in the ribs.

“Ah,” you gasped, inhaling sharply through your teeth.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No no, I’m good,” you lied, hiding the fact that it felt like there was a knife in your ribs right now. “You wanna sit down for a bit? It’s gorgeous out there.”

“Sure,” Wonyoung agreed, looking over at the water.

The two of you sat on the stone wall that bordered the path with your feet dangling over the edge. Now that you weren’t walking, the frigid night started to hit you. Thankfully, Wonyoung understood what you wanted when you inched closer to her, and she lay her head peacefully onto your shoulder. You followed her lead, gently resting your cheek against the top of her head.

The world seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but the soft sounds of water lapping against the shore. The moonlight shimmered across the water, leading a never-ending path deep into the night. The salty sea breeze and the floral tones coming from Wonyoung’s hair pleasantly combined into a mixture of satisfaction.

It felt nice, everything that happened tonight was irrelevant now. All that mattered was this view, and the warmth of Wonyoung leaning against you. Time stood still, yet again, as the two of you silently soaked in the beauty of the world around you. The connection you felt with her felt infinite, forever to be etched into your brain.

“I need to confess something,” Wonyoung broke the silence as she stared down at her hands as if she had never seen them before. “I’ve never actually been with a guy before.”

Carefully, you lifted your head off hers and turned to look down at her. She followed suit, lifting her head off your shoulder, turning to look up at you.

“Wonyoung,” you paused to give her hand a little squeeze. “This doesn’t change what I think about you, but I’m a little surprised.”

“Tonight was supposed to be the night,” she continued, her eyes glowing in the moonlight. “That was the whole reason I went to this party.”

“Well, it wasn’t the reason I enjoyed my time with you tonight.”

“Isn’t that why you went upstairs with me?”

“Truthfully, yes,” you admitted. “Can I ask what you meant by that being the whole reason you were there tonight?”

“Exactly what I said,” she replied. “I… felt like it’s a bit embarrassing that I haven’t done it yet.”

“I don’t think it’s something you should be embarrassed about,” you said gently. “But why at such a pretentious party filled with douchebags?”

“Um, you were also at that party,” she cocked a brow at you.

“Not by choice,” you retaliated. “You’re the only reason I even stayed as long as I did.”

“Sounds like you’re still saying you want to be my first.”

“Look, I just met you, I don’t know much about you,” you replied gently after a pause to think. “But I do know I’ve loved every second we’ve spent together. I also know that I would do it all again in a heartbeat without changing a thing, even if I knew this right here was the end and we both went our separate ways.”

“Really? You wouldn’t maybe change the height of the house?” Wonyoung giggled.

“Nope, but maybe I’d change the way you fell on me.”

“I’m really sorry, does it still hurt?” Wonyoung’s face suddenly turned to concern.

So, she did know how to apologize.

“It’s fine,” you smiled at her.

“You said you’d be fine if the night ended right here and we never spoke again,” she whispered softly. “Is there any way this didn’t have to be the end?”

“Is that what you want?” you asked while letting go of her hand.

She nodded slowly.

“Then no, it doesn’t need to end here, I’d love to see you again."

“Thank you,” she smiled warmly. “But you never answered my question.”

There was another pause for you to think about your answer.

“Whether or not I’m your first, tonight is not the night for us to make that decision,” you answered carefully.

Wonyoung lunged forward and hugged you tightly. It was so sudden, you weren’t prepared. Unfortunate, really, as her very pure-intentioned action ended up being the most painful event of the night; A very loud and visceral cry left your mouth as intense pain shot into your ribs.

“What happened?” Wonyoung gasped, immediately letting go of you in fear.

“Nothing,” you winced in pain as a second wave shot up your body.

Wonyoung, as gently as she could, grabbed your shirt and slowly lifted it up.

“Oh my God!” she screamed, covering her mouth with her hands as the moonlight illuminated a massive purple patch on the side of your body. “Why the fuck have you been hiding this from me?”

“It’s fine,” you winced as you lowered your shirt back down gingerly. “Just a bruise.”

“Just a bruise?” she repeated as tears began spilling from her eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Stop, it’s fine,” you brought your hands up to her face and carefully wiped her eyes with your thumbs. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is! I’m the one who-”

Her panic was silenced as you pressed your lips against hers again. You held your mouth to hers for a few seconds before slowly pulling back, leaving her staring at you with her mouth still slightly agape.

“Please relax,” you smiled warmly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Should I take you to the hospital?”

“No.”

“Can I at least bring you back to my place?”

“It’s no big deal, don’t worry.”

“Please.”

“Alright,” you sighed, admittedly feeling quite touched by her concern. “My place is just up the street, how about you walk me home before I call you a cab?”

“Okay,” Wonyoung leapt to her feet and held her hands out for you. “I can live with that.”

“Thank you,” you graciously accepted her hands and stood up with her, wincing again in pain.

“Here, does that feel fine?” she asked as she placed your arm on her shoulder.

“I can still walk, my legs are fine,” you chuckled. “But yes, it’s perfect.”

The walk only took a couple of minutes, during which not a single word was uttered between the two of you. Yet, somehow, it didn’t feel awkward or strange. It actually felt incredibly comforting walking through the night with Wonyoung. Things were so different now compared to when you met her earlier in the night, it felt like you’ve known this girl all your life.

“One second,” you unwrapped your arm from Wonyoung’s shoulder to reach for your phone.

“I got it,” she quickly reached into your pocket, pulling it out for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled at her thoughtfulness before unlocking the front door to your apartment with the app.

“So fancy,” Wonyoung teased before stepping into the lobby with you, her heels tapping loudly against the marble floors. “I guess it makes sense considering where I found you.”

“It’s not that special,” you replied humbly. “Thank you again, for everything.”

“No, thank you,” Wonyoung responded. “Also, does your physical condition have any bearing on your answer earlier?”

“No,” you smiled at her. “I stand by what I said.”

“Okay, just making sure, let’s go,” she pressed the button for the elevator.

“Let me call that cab for you first.”

“Not yet,” Wonyoung held her hand over your phone. “Let me at least help you clean up the cut.”

“It’s late, I really don’t want to keep you up. I’ll manage.”

“Do you have a girl upstairs waiting for you?” she asked abruptly.

“What? No, of course not. I live alone.”

“Are you uncomfortable with me being in your apartment?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go,” she stepped into the elevator, arms crossed while staring at you.

“I appreciate this,” you said as you stepped in and pressed the button for your floor.

After walking down the hall towards your apartment, Wonyoung forced you to sit on your couch.

“Where’s your medicine cabinet?” she called out to you as she walked into your kitchen.

“Wonyoung I’m fine, I promise, I just need to rest,” you called back. “Just come sit with me for a bit.”

“Where is it?” Wonyoung walked back over, completely ignoring you, with an ice pack in her hands. “Take your shirt off.”

Realizing that she wasn’t going to give up, you sighed before carefully unbuttoning your shirt and opening it up. The bruise had gotten worse, and it already looked terrible compared to earlier. In front of you, Wonyoung had stopped moving and her gaze was locked on your body.

“Wonyoung?” you held your hand out for the ice pack.

“Huh? Oh, right,” she began blushing as she handed you the pack. “Hold that to the bruise. Medicine cabinet?”

“Bathroom mirror,” you replied, gasping as the cool ice pressed against your skin.

It was definitely soothing, and you immediately felt a bit of relief. You watched Wonyoung walk towards the bathroom, your eyes slowly closing as you began drifting out of consciousness. The next thing you remember is the softest of soft touches against your cheek.

“Sorry, did I press too hard?” Wonyoung apologized gently as she continued rubbing vaseline on your cheek. “I’m leaving this one uncovered so that it heals faster and doesn’t scar.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your heart rate spiking as you opened your eyes to see Wonyoung’s face right in front of yours. Once again, she was entirely focused on the wound, her gaze never faltering.

“You’re welcome, I wrapped your hand up as well. Are there any other injuries that you know of?”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head.

“You didn’t have any…”

Those were the last few words you heard before you faded out of consciousness again. The next time your eyes opened up was when you heard the click of your front door opening.

“Still alive?” Wonyoung called out softly when she noticed your eyes were open.

“What, how long…” you paused to look at the ice pack, which had melted entirely by now, before continuing, “...have I been asleep?”

“Like thirty minutes or so,” Wonyoung answered casually as she sat down next to you and removed the pack. “Just rest, you can sleep again if you want.”

She pulled a little bottle out of a small bag and took the lid off before sticking two fingers into it and scooping out some of the cream.

“What’s that?” you mumbled.

“It’s just an anti-inflammatory,” she answered warmly before very gently rubbing her fingers against the bruise. “Does it hurt?” she asked as you let out a little gasp.

“No, it feels good.”

“Good, it’s supposed to,” she smiled as she continued to rub the ointment into your skin. “I’m convinced there’s no girl living here, by the way. After seeing the state of your medicine cabinet, it’s definitely just a man here.”

“Why would I lie…” you mumbled back, slowly fading out of consciousness again. “I really like you…”

Wonyoung paused, her cheeks turning rosy again, before closing the lid of the bottle.

“That should be enough, try not to wipe it off,” Wonyoung said casually before standing up. “Does it hurt when you breathe in?”

“No,” you groaned, sitting up slightly.

“That’s good, you don’t have a fever either,” she noted while pressing the back of her hand against your forehead. “I think you’re right and that it’s just bruising, but I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow to get x-rays.”

“It’s fine,” you smiled before wincing in pain again.

“I should really be taking you right now to be honest,” she said while staring at your bare chest. “It could be a fractured rib.”

“Tomorrow then, I’ll go.”

“You’re saying it like you have a choice.”

“Also, wait a minute, are those my clothes?” you just now noticed what she was wearing. “When did you put those on?”

“I wasn’t going to walk into a store with a ripped dress and no panties, you idiot,” Wonyoung shook her head in disbelief. “Get some sleep, as soon as you wake up we’re going to see a physician.”

“Thank you…” you mumbled quietly, slouching back down into the couch and closing your eyes. “Goodnight.”

After a small pause where you heard a couple of footsteps, you felt Wonyoung place a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Goodnight.”

---

A/N:

I don't think I have too much to say about this one. I wrote it because @writerpeach made me horny for Wonyoung. I know it's not the smuttiest of my works, but frankly I was more focused on other aspects of my writing for this one. I've left it open for future parts, no idea when I'll be writing them but I do already have the plot.

Wrote and edited this whole thing in essentially one weekend, so forgive any mistakes. This one really was more of a test for my own writing capability. A small side project if you will. Feel free to let me know what you guys think, and if you have any sort of interesting requests I'm not opposed to taking them for more practice.

[maxtermind]

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy

Max Verstappen

Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.

From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.

But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.

The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.

It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.

As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.

”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.

”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.

You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.

”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”

How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?

Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”

Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.” 

The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?

Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”

”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.

”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”

And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?

Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”

You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.

However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.

Lewis Hamilton

It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.

Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.

The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?

But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.

”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”

You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...

After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.

You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.

So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.

It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?

You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.

”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”

You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.

You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.

As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.

”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.

”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”

Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.

”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”

You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.

All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.

Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.

Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”

But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.

”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”

You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.

And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.

Carlos Sainz

You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.

He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.

It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.

So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…

Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.

You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.

There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.

‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’

The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.

You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.

”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.

And you still weren’t enough.

You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”

Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?

But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”

He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”

Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.

Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”

As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.

You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”

Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.

Charles Leclerc

You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.

He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.

Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.

You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.

”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.

”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?

Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.

”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”

But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”

Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.

”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.

”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.

Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?

”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”

Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.

Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”

You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”

Lando Norris

Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.

Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.

For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.

Who could've thought?

Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.

The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.

Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?

But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.

”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.

You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.

This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.

Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.

Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.

They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.

Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.

Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.

But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”

There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.

As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.

”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”

Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”

Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.

Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your trust had shattered along with your heart. 

His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.

”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.

Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.

”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”

Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.

”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.

You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.

”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.

They have insulted you in front of your whole family.

”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.

As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[simpjaes]

HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)

Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later. 

Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT― 5.4k

PAIRING― jay x afab reader

CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.

NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!! 

nsfw tags under cut:

nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show?  What’s not to love about it? 

There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 

It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?

Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work. 

To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 

Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers? 

 You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard. 

He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.

Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance. 

Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.

He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status. 

It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage. 

In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday. 

Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.

You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money. 

This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.

You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.

Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see. 

Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it. 

It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. 

Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center. 

You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits. 

Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time. 

Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.

Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves. 

And, well, would you look at that.

You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 

“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 

“Jake, again?” 

The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 

“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 

“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”

“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”

“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 

Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out. 

“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”

“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 

“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. 

This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 

Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.

“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 

The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 

The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.

Oh.

Jackpot.

“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 

He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 

“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 

“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”

Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.

“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 

With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 

You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 

The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 

Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body. 

Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 

“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?” 

Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. 

“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 

He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 

Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 

You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 

Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.

“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly,  turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 

He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.

“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 

“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.

When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.

“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him. 

He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to  just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.

“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.

Rules, rules, fucking rules.

Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.

You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 

“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”

You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 

“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”

You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 

The game is on now though, it seems,  as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 

You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”

Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 

“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile. 

You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 

“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?” 

Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it. 

“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.

“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him. 

When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 

“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him. 

“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 

You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 

“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.

“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 

You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 

“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”

Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.

“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.

Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.

You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.

Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks. 

After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked. 

Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it. 

The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.

Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 

You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 

Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined. 

“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him. 

You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 

“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 

“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”

You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick. 

“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.

When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 

In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. 

His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in. 

“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric. 

You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice. 

“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags. 

You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face. 

Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now. 

 You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.

And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.

He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.

 His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.

“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.

“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 

“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him. 

Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker. 

“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.” 

You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back. 

“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing. 

And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls. 

Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak. 

“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”

He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you. 

You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway. 

If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked. 

Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it. 

The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 

And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping. 

And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)

By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.

“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 

He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this. 

You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do. 

Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you. 

“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”

“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”

Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 

“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.

“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”

He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? 

“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.

“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 

“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch. 

Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.

“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”

“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 

“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”

You watch him reach for the doorknob. 

“Saturday?” You ask.

“Saturday.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.

[xneens]

wasted summer - one

series masterlist

watching jj like someone else hurts, thankfully, you finds comfort in rafe’s arms … and his bed.

Music boomed in your ears, the party in full swing as you made your way upstairs, away from the guys smoking weed and girls dancing to Kanye West. Using a guest room on the third floor, you opened the window and crawled out onto the roof. With a drink in hand, you watched partygoers jump into the Cameron's pool, observing the party from afar.

Taking a sip of the cheap vodka JJ had gotten, you glanced at the blond, a frown on your lips as you saw him sweep Kiara off her feet, jumping into the pool with her. Kiara likes JJ, that much you know is true after she had drunkenly confessed during a girl's night out. Bitterness grew inside you as you watched him respond to her subtle flirting, praying desperately he didn't return her feelings but your own.

You look away, downing the rest of the cup before throwing it off the roof in hopes of it hitting someone. Hopefully either one of them, but they were still playing in the pool. Together.

"Littering on my property? Harsh." a voice behind you murmurs as he crawls out the window, sitting beside you on the roof. Rafe grins at you, bringing the blunt to his lips.

You roll your eyes, keeping them on him instead of the heartwrenching scene below you. "Like you haven't littered at my house before. Payback."

"So vengeful ever since you started hanging out with those Pogues." Rafe chuckles, offering you a hit off his blunt. You decline it with a wave of your hand and he shrugs, taking another hit off of it.

Glancing back at JJ and Kiara, you can't help the pang in your heart as you watch them play in the pool, splashing each other with large smiles on their faces. Sighing, you look back at Rafe, suddenly wishing you'd brought a bottle of Titos with you.

Rafe arches a brow, a smirk dancing on his lips. "What're you doing up here, anyways? Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Scooby gang?"

Not wanting to be in his eyesight, you lay down on the roof, staring at the night sky, the lights from the party polluting the starry sky. "I needed a break."

"From those dirty Pogues?"

You smack his arm, causing the blond to burst out laughing. "Stop bullying my friends."

"Bullying works," replied Rafe, shifting to mirror your position. He groans softly as he lays back on the roof. "Remember Agatha Haynes? She no longer smokes fifty cigarettes a day after you called her Hagatha."

A snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. You shake your head. "God, I was a bitch."

"You still are." Rafe dodges another smack, a teasing grin slapped across his face. "Still the spoiled, snobby, selfish girl you were. You're just better at hiding it now."

"Oh, and the hits just keep coming." You groan out dramatically, smiling back at him. "I'll have you know that I am very empathetic and care about other people's feelings.”

The blond shakes his head, taking a hit from his blunt. "Is that why you're hiding out from your gang of mutts? Because you care about them so much you don't want them to know you're suffering in silence?"

"I wish you'd suffer in silence."

"Woah, don't violate the thirteenth-year truce," Rafe replies, drawing out a reluctant smile from you.

Rafe was ... Rafe. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth, acted like every rich kid from Figure 8, only worse, and knew how to get his way. The only fight the blond had lost was to a coked-out tourist to who Rafe ironically sold the coke.

Most people didn't see that he could be nice when he wanted to. You always held it above everyone that Rafe Cameron had a soft spot for you, even if it only came from being his little sister's best friend. Still, it was nice to be one of the few people not to be on the receiving side of his hostility, a side Sarah was constantly on.

It was a weird friendship built on a truce made by four and six-year-olds. During your fourth birthday party, Rafe had gifted you with a promise to never be the cause of your tears and you promised to never cut holes in his tighty whities again.

After a few minutes of silence, Rafe turns his head to look at you, exhaling out smoke. "Seriously, though, why are you hiding?"

"Not hiding, taking a break." You correct him, refusing to meet his eyes. He wasn't completely wrong, you were hiding from your friends, specifically two of them.

"That's such bullshit." scoffs the man next to you, rolling his eyes at your words. "Tell me."

You groan, covering your face with your hands in hopes of hiding your embarrassment from him. "No. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Stop being nosy."

Rafe snickers, putting his blunt out before grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your face gently. Eyes filled with serenity, a sight only you and Wheezie ever got to see. "Tell me, you know I won't tell anyone."

Your playful pout makes his grin widen. "You'll make fun of me."

"Me? After our truce?" asks Rafe, throwing his head back in laughter. "Never."

After contemplating whether to lie to his face, you sigh, rubbing your temples. It couldn't hurt to tell him, it's not as if he ever told anyone stuff you've told him before. "Kiara likes JJ. And ... I think he likes her back."

An awkward moment of silence hangs in the air before Rafe inhales sharply. "Oh. I didn't realize you wanted to fuck the help."

"Rafe." your tone made him throw his hands up in surrender. Staring back up at the sky, you scrunched your nose. "I kind of like him. It just sucks a little seeing them so touchy with each other and flirting in my face. If they become official, then I'll literally be the only person in the friend group without anyone. I'll be a seventh wheel and that's so fucking pathetic."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," says Rafe, scoffing. "My sister found someone who puts up with her shit, you'll have an easier chance finding a boyfriend. If you don't like anyone, I'll volunteer."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his not-so-comforting words. "Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

The blond chortled, sitting up. "I'm serious. Anyone who isn't blind can see you're clearly much better than those idiots you hang around. The girls you hung out with were annoying as hell but at least they were better than those group of Pogues."

"How very Kook of you to say," you mutter back, not taking Rafe's words earnestly. Shifting, you sit up, eyes flickering back to the pool, immediately spotting Sarah and John B., Pope and Cleo, and JJ and Kiara still playing with each other. "I don't know, they probably don't care I'm not with them right now."

You could feel Rafe's eyes burning a hole in your face, his lack of insults to throw at your friends making you uncomfortable. Anything was better than silence when it came to Rafe. Silence meant he was thinking and you almost always never liked what he was thinking of.

He stands up before holding his hand out, gesturing for you to take it. "Come on, let's get you something to drink. It'll cheer you up."

You immediately take his hand, standing up. "Don't need to convince me."

"None of that cheap shit you've been drinking. My dad has some expensive whiskey he keeps in his study." Rafe adds, climbing back through the window with you right behind him. He doesn't let go of your hand, even after you climb back inside.

Rafe leads you through the swarm of people in the hall, heading towards the second floor for his dad's office. He pushes a guy away from the door, unlocking it and holding it open for you to enter. You step across the threshold, glancing around Ward's office as Rafe shuts the door behind him.

You'd been in Ward's office a handful of times, most times with Sarah and one time with Ward himself when you had skinned your knee riding a bike and he bandaged it up. Being inside the warm-lit room with Rafe felt strange and slightly tense.

Plopping down on the big leather couch, you watch Rafe walk towards the desk, raiding his father's desk drawer until he finds the big bottle of GlenDronach. He grabs two glasses, sitting down beside you as he pours the amber liquid.

You scrunch your nose at the smell. "God, I can smell the hangover."

Rafe smirks, pouring too much into both of the glasses, capping the bottle back up. "Nah, if anything this will help you sleep. It goes down smooth."

You take the glass from Rafe, wincing at the strong musk of the whiskey before downing half the bottle like a shot, immediately coughing after swallowing it down. Rafe's brows furrowed as he watched you slam the half-filled glass down on the coffee table, exasperated. "That did not go down smooth."

"It's sipping whiskey, you don't drink it like a shot of vodka." the blond clarifies, judgment and confusion in his tone. "Who the hell takes a shot of whiskey?"

Glaring at him, you cough out the burning in your throat. "Get me a Sprite, motherfucker."

An amused smirk dances on his lips as he stands up and opens Ward's mini fridge, pulling out a cold can of Sprite. He opens it before handing it to you, sitting back down. "I just witnessed a crime."

You gurgle half the can, soothing your burning throat before glaring at him. "I don't like the taste of alcohol, I just drink it to get drunk. Besides, people who actually enjoy the taste are psychopaths."

"You never miss the chance to tell me I am," Rafe replies, grinning as he takes a more moderate sip of his whiskey. He makes an approving expression, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"You can have mine. I hate it." You push the glass in front of Rafe, leaning back on the couch. Rafe sipped his glass of single malt whiskey while you drank a can of Sprite. "Worse thing I've swallowed. And there's competition."

Rafe makes a face at that, shaking his head. "Please, no details of how the help was in your mouth."

Smacking his arm caused a drop of his whiskey to spill over the side. "Stop calling my friends the help, you snarky asshole."

The blond gives you a look, setting his glass back down on the table. "Maybank helped me carry my golf clubs at the club last week. I can't think of a better title for him. It's in the name."

You roll your eyes, downing the rest of your drink. Rafe could carry his own golf clubs so you knew he sought out JJ's help specifically to taunt and mock him. "If I get the lifeguard job, are you gonna start calling me the help?"

His eyes softened slightly, head tilting towards yours. "No, of course not. You're far better than anyone else, even if you decide to get an unnecessary job.”

"Even better than you?" you arch a brow, watching his lips quirk up in a genuine smile.

"Always," replies Rafe.

Heat pools in your stomach, the whiskey's delayed effect. You glance away from Rafe's sharp eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift on the couch, making yourself more comfortable. "It's not unnecessary, by the way. The job. It looks good on my transcripts."

"Hm, still going to Charleston?"

You shrug, staring at the insurmountably large portrait of Denmark Tanney in Ward's office. "I don't know. My parents want me to, and I'll get into it but I don't wanna be so close to home, you know?"

Rafe's brows furrowed, a frown tugging on his lips. "Where are you thinking?"

"Either New Orleans or London," you answer, pulling a laugh out of Rafe. "Yeah, a wide range of possibilities for me."

"You don't wanna go to Charleston?" questioned Rafe, his eyes never leaving yours. A look of displeasure passes his face. "It's not that close, seven hours."

You make a face, shaking your head. "Seven hours is too close for me.”

The blond scoffed, leaning forward to sip his whiskey.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you observed him. Teasingly, you ask. "What, you gonna miss me when I leave?"

"I thought it was obvious," Rafe replied, downing the rest of his glass. He shifts on the couch, placing his arms on top of it, giving you a sardonic grin. "I think Charleston is far enough."

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time that night, you lay your head back, sighing. "You can come visit me anytime. Just don't bring anyone. Especially not Topper or Kelce."

"Ah, I wouldn't wanna walk in on you and your victims." jokes Rafe, patting your thigh softly. "Wouldn't be the first."

You laugh, winking at him. "Maybe you'll be my next victim."

Rafe raises a brow, leaning back slightly as he stares at you. "Don't tease me, I have no self-control when it comes to you."

"Yes, I think that was clear when you sent Tom Schnitzel to the ER for trying to drug me," you reply, inhaling sharply at the memory. You were positive you still had Tom's blood stained onto the white top from that night. "Thanks for that, by the way. I don't think I properly thanked you for that."

Rafe waves it away with a hand, standing. "Don't worry about it. I needed to get it out that night, anyway. Come on, I have something to show you."

Curious, you follow Rafe out of the office, walking down the hall to his room. He opens the door, motioning for you to enter. Immediately, you plop down on his bed, laying out on the soft mattress as he closes the door behind him. You watch him walk towards his dresser, turning around with a small jewelry box, a bow sitting on the top.

"What's that for?" you ask, taking the box from Rafe, and inspecting it.

He sits on the edge of the bed, eyes watching you fiddle with the box. "Your birthday present."

"It's not for another month."

Rafe shrugs, grinning. "Consider it your early birthday present, then. Come on, open it."

Tilting your head, you lift the top from it, the diamond tennis bracelet sparkling as soon as the light hits it. You gasped softly, taking the bracelet from its mold, watching in fascination as the diamonds danced in the light.

"Holy shit, Rafe," you mutter, inspecting the bracelet. "What the fuck? How much was it?"

The blond chuckled, taking the bracelet and unlocking the hook. He gestured for you to put your wrist out. "Real diamonds. None of that lab-grown bullshit. Don't worry, the cost didn't even dent my account."

You give him a look, allowing him to put the bracelet on your wrist and shake it as soon as it's on. "I told you before that I don't want expensive gifts from my friends. Just my parents."

"I'd like to think I'm more than one of your obnoxious friends," replies Rafe, causing you to give him a look. He snickered, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Last time, I swear."

"Highly doubt that." you turn your attention back to the bracelet, smirking at how it looked against your skin. "Thank you, though. It's really pretty."

Rafe stares at you, blue eyes watching you admire his present. "Yeah, beautiful."

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed from the whiskey and drinks prior. Heat pools in your stomach as your eyes meet his. Clearing your throat, you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Best present I got this year."

He smirks, laying his head down on a pillow, watching as you mirror his movement. "Yeah? Do I get to be your favorite until I piss you off?"

"Of course. I give it five minutes." you tease, grinning when Rafe smacks you with a pillow softly. You dodge his second hit, rolling closer to him, your arm pressed against his. "I was kidding! You'll be my favorite forever."

"That's more like it," Rafe says, a satisfied grin slapped across his face.

You groan softly, rolling onto your side to face the blond, eyes closing. The party was still going on downstairs, the loud thumping of the music heard two stories up. Your mind briefly flickered to what was happening with JJ and Kiara until Rafe's fingers ghosted over your side.

"I swear to god if you're gonna tickle me, Cameron," you grumble, eyes still closed, feeling his fingers roam around until they hit your stomach.

Rafe chuckles quietly, fingers stroking the ribcage tattoo you had gotten with Sarah. "When did you get this?"

"A week ago." you giggle as he runs his fingers up, touching your neck. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately slap his hand away, your brand new bracelet swinging slightly from the movement. "Rafe. You know how ticklish I am."

"Sorry," he smirks, tone unapologetic. His hand drifts to your hips, fingers playing with your cutoff shorts. "Wouldn't want a repeat of the Jenga incident."

Your nose scrunches at that, remembering the night you spent at the ER. "It was an accident."

"Still sticking to that story?"

"You moved your head."

"You threw a glass at my head." Rafe corrected, a smile tugging the corner of his lips up.

Scowling at him, you shake your head. "No, I threw it at the wall behind you. You moved your head at the last second and had to get five stitches."

"If you weren't so fucking competitive ..." Rafe teases, trailing off.

You bite your tongue, letting the subject go with great difficulty, but managing to not bite back. Closing your eyes again, you let your muscles alleviate. "Hm. Whatever."

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, the alcohol in your system and Rafe's soft bed allowing you to relax despite the loud music creeping through the walls. Despite feeling his eyes on you, you felt your body intense, the bed cradling you.

Rafe's hand drifts slowly up your hip, fingertips softly brushing against the sliver of bare stomach before slipping slightly under the hem of your top. Your eyes flutter up at the movement, watching as his thumb draws circles on your skin.

Goosebumps arise, and you suddenly realize how close he is, not even a foot away. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue peeking out to wetten his own. Your breath gets caught in your throat, his face somehow closer now.

Maybe it was the alcohol you've consumed trying to forget your own despair or an excuse to get your mind off JJ and Kiara, but you watched as Rafe brought his lips to yours, not pulling back when the taste of whiskey invades your mouth.

A hand caressing your cheek, Rafe rolled over on top of you, his elbows holding up his weight as he kissed you. His tongue sought entry to your mouth, biting your bottom lip. You gasped slightly at the feel, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, your lips parting slightly as Rafe's tongue sweeps in.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a string of soft kisses along your collarbone. Tilting your head back, you give him better access, running your hands through his hair, a soft content sigh escaping your lips.

He nips at your collarbones before sucking a mark into your skin, just right above your breast causing you to mewl at the touch, your hands drifting to his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging into his skin. You meet his eyes, his ocean blues now darkened like the water during a storm.

Something comes over your body, seeing Rafe in a new light. Suddenly needy and impatient, your hands tugged at the hem of Rafe's black polo, pleading silently for him to take it off. Taking your hint, he sits up, taking it off in one swift move, tossing it on the floor.

You'd never admit it, not even to Rafe–especially to Rafe, but you'd always loved his abs. The definition of the, so toned, tanned, and delectable. He may have been your friend, but you weren't blind to his looks, and definitely how his abs looked when he flexed them.

As your fingers traced the defined line down his stomach, Rafe's hands slid under your top until the tips of his fingers met the fabric of your bikini top. Needing more, a lot more, you sit up, ridding yourself of the offensive clothing. You heard Rafe groan, pushing you back onto the bed, eyes roaming the sight of the hot pink bikini top you still wore, the top so little it was hardly covering your nipples.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, reaching out and pulling off the top quickly, the thin string breaking at the force, your tits spilling out. You gasped, nipples hardening in the cold air. Rafe groaned at the sight, hands cupping your breasts, his breath hitting your nipples. "Fucking incredible."

You arched your back, moaning softly as his tongue wettens a nipple before taking it into his mouth. His teeth nibble it, sucking and teasing the hard bud while his fingers play with the other, rolling it between his fingers. Rafe pinches it gently, looking up at you with a smirk when you mewl.

Running your hands over Rafe's back, you feel the warmth and firmness of his muscles, wetness pooling at the thought of kissing every single inch of his torso. Before he could take the other nipple into his mouth, you pull his lips back to yours, wrapping an arm around his neck as a hand runs down his back, nails scratching his spine.

Rafe's hand moves down your sides, fingers playing with the button of your shorts. Pulling back from the kiss, he unbuttoned your shorts, slowly–and agonizingly–sliding them off. The cutoffs pile onto his shirt on the floor.

You know Rafe's experienced, so are you, but you swore he almost looked nervous as he stared down at you, his hands slightly shaky as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your matching pink thong. Those join the discarded clothing on his bedroom floor.

He looks like a man starved as his eyes focus on your bare cunt, hungry and almost animalistic as he leans closer to your glistening pussy, nose nearly touching the clit. "You're already so wet."

Instinctively, you spread your legs wider, hands grasping the sheets as his finger leisurely dips into your wet pussy, your lips parting slightly. His thumb touches your clit, rubbing it gently. You groan, hips bucking at the feel, needing more. "Fuck."

Rafe smirks, pushing a finger into your cunt, watching as your face contorted in pleasure. He adds a second before you could come down from the small high. "Look at you, so needy and desperate."

Before you could think of a retort, he leans down to replace his thumb with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust inside you, gaining speed. The sight of Rafe's head between your legs, his tongue flicking your clit was so erotic, the vision enough for you to get wetter. You throw your head back, your fingers tangling in Rafe's hair as you pull his head closer to your dripping pussy, a moan filling the room.

His fingers hit that spot inside you, causing a surprise whimper from your lips to escape. Rafe pauses, glancing up at you, pride in his eyes before he doubles his efforts, his fingers curling to reach that spot. He sucks your clit, nibbling it when you tug his hair.

"Rafe," you moan, arching your back. You push his head deeper between your thighs, pussy clenching around his fingers, so close to falling off. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"That's right, say my fucking name when you cum on my fingers," Rafe grunted, his fingers plunging in and out of your soaking wet cunt. He licks your clit, staring up as you come closer.

A dripping mess, you buck your hips up as Rafe continues his relentless actions on your pussy, moans of pleasure filling the room. His free hand moves up your torso, cupping your breast before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You lose it when he pinches it harshly, moaning loudly as you come undone, pussy clenching around his fingers, throbbing. You whimper out his name, your hand gripping his hair. "Fuck!"

Rafe laps it all up, replacing his fingers with his tongue, hands holding your legs open as you attempt to close them, your clit sensitive. He runs his tongue along your pussy, lapping up your juices, groaning at the taste, unable to pull himself away.

He licks his lips, staring possessively at your cunt before looking up at you with a proud smile. "You taste so fucking good."

He then proves it to you, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You taste yourself on him as you kiss him back, lips moving against each other. As you come down from the high, you roll him over, straddling his torso. You move your lips to his neck, marking it until you kiss down his chest. Meeting his eyes, you run your tongue down his abs, kissing every individual one.

You move to straddle his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants, much opposite of his agonizingly slow approach. Rafe lifts his hips, helping you take off his jeans, sitting up to pull you in for another kiss. Giggling, you push him back onto the bed, your fingers sliding underneath the band of his boxers.

You bite your lip as you take out his cock, your hand wrapping around it immediately. The size of it made your mouth water, licking your lips in anticipation as you stroked it slowly causing Rafe to groan. With an approving hum, you lick the tip, meeting Rafe's hungry gaze.

Smirking, you run your tongue along the length of it, pulling back when Rafe bucks his hips up, glaring at you for teasing him. Chuckling, you decide to end the shortlived torture, taking his cock into your mouth, your warm, wet lips wrapping around his cock.

He groans, fingers pulling at your hair, guiding your movements, and urging you to take more of him. The sight of your soft, pink lips wrapped around his cock was something he'd never forget. "That's it, baby. Suck my dick like a good slut."

You felt your pussy clench at his words, growing wetter as you suck him off, eagerly bobbing your head up and down his dick. Pre-cum drips onto your tongue and you savor the taste, moaning around his cock, Rafe grunting at the feel of the vibrations.

Not wanting him to cum down your throat, you stop, slapping his cock on your tongue, smiling innocently when he narrows his eyes at you. He looked so hot staring down at you, chest heaving as he panted lightly, his knuckles white as he tried to restrain himself. His cock bobbed up as if begging for attention.

Shifting, you move up his body until your pussy is inches from Rafe's cock. You tap your clit with his cock, whimpering quietly, your clit still sensitive. Rafe's hands drift to your hips and you smack them away, giving him a smile as you rub your cunt against his dick, wanting to tease him just a little bit more.

He grits out your name, hands by his sides as he clenches them into a fist. "Stop teasing.”

"Or what?" you arch a brow, smirking as you let the head of his cock slip into your wet cunt. Temporarily speechless, Rafe lets out a guttural groan as you sink down unhurriedly, watching as your pussy wraps around his cock until he bottoms out. The size of his cock stretches you out, your walls fluttering around him as you rock slowly. "Holy shit."

"Jesus Christ." Rafe growls, his hands cupping your tits as you begin to bounce on his dick. He squeezes them, watching as your pussy swallows his cock like a vice. "So tight. Made just for me."

You moan at his words, leaning back and placing your hands on his thigh, giving him a view men would kill for. You ride his cock, throwing your head back at the feel of his cock stretching you out. Rafe reaches down, slapping your ass as you ride him, and you mewl at the gentle pain. "Rafe."

Rafe's thumb touches your clit, rubbing it as he watches you ride his cock, his lips parted slightly like he is seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. His eyes dart between his cock sliding in and out of your cunt and your face contorts with pleasure, moaning every time you slide down his cock.

"Fucking gorgeous." Rafe whispers, thrusting up into you, his pupils dilated when you whimper loudly. He sits up, his hands gripping your waist, moving his face in front of your bouncing tits, taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. "So much better than I imagined, baby."

You place your hands on his shoulders, pussy clenching around his cock. You moan into his ear, kissing his neck as he thrusts up into you, your legs trembling as you draw closer to cumming. "Rafe, I'm gonna cum."

The words cause him to double his efforts, gripping your waist so tight it would leave bruises, his cock filling you up as he fucks you fast. His lips drag across your neck, leaving a mark as his cock brushes against your cervix. "Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like a fucking slut."

You cry out as you come, your cunt tightening around his cock. You bite Rafe's shoulder, muffling your ungodly loud moan. "Fuck, fuck!”

He pulls you back in for a kiss, spilling his seed into your awaiting pussy. Rafe slows to a stop, groaning against your lips, his cock nuzzled deep inside you. Rolling you on your back, he doesn't separate from you, keeping his dick warm as he kisses you languidly. Taking a breath, he breaks the kiss, staring down at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "You alright, sweetheart?"

Tired and content, you return his smile, pussy throbbing around his softening cock. You nod, eyes heavy. "Yeah, you?"

Rafe chuckles quietly. "Yeah, me too."

As your eyes drift close, you feel Rafe press a kiss to your forehead.

[teaboot]

TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS

I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching

Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order

John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.

The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas

Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it

The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.

Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.

Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room

The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah

Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!

Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch

Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored

[wandaslittlelove]

Hi, can you write something where Nicky gets lost in the forest and Rio and Agatha are desperately looking for him, or they find him with a witch in the forest and she's playing and showing her magic to him and it's cute? Please?

Witch in the Woods

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader Warnings: Reader has Antlers like a deer

Agatha and Rio laid on their makeshift bed. Both of their eyes closed as they let themselves enjoy each other's embrace. The sun was setting in the distance as the small fire crackled and burned. The woods were quiet and still. Wait quiet?

Agatha shot up with frantic eyes as she looked at her surroundings causing Rio to let out a grunt as she was pushed over.

“Nicky? Nicky!” Agatha yelled as she couldn’t find or hear him. She stood quickly, Rio quickly following as she realized why Agatha had gotten up so suddenly.

“Nicky!” they both called as they ran a bit further into the forest. They both paused when they heard him laugh and quickly followed. They froze before they could get too close though.

There in a small clearing was Nicky laughing and smiling at a girl they had never met. He was surrounded by white butterflies that seemed to almost dance around him. Both of their eyes drifted to you. Your hands were raised and fingers moving slightly as white danced around your finger tips. You wore a carefree smile as you watched the boy dance with your creations.

The two watched silently for a while. Watched as you continued to show him the magic that was coursing through you and the smile that seemed to grow every time you showed him something new.

Rio stepped forward slightly causing a twig to snap. Your’s and Nicky’s heads both snapped towards the sound. Your instinct was immediate. You stood up quickly and positioned yourself in front of the boy. You glared at the two women as you stood protectively. With you facing them they could clearly see your features now. You have a pair of small antlers on your head and small speckles on your cheeks.

“Mom! Mama!” Your body relaxed slightly as Nicholas ran over to his mothers. Agatha immediately pulled him into a tight hug as Rio glanced over his body making sure he wasn’t hurt. You watched the moment silently. The butterflies that once danced around Nicky came to rest on your shoulders.

“Who are you?” Rio demanded. In all of her life she had never seen you before. Or someone that had your powers.

“I- I am a Animal witch.” Agatha furrows her eye’s at your words. She had never heard of an animal witch before.

“What’s your name?” She spoke as she took a small step towards you. Silence involved the small clearing as you didn’t answer. 

“She asked you a question” Rio Spoke as she also stepped forwards.

“I do not have a name.” There was a pause once more. “I’m sorry if I startled you. Your boy had wandered into the clearing and was lost. I figured someone would come looking for him and it’s always best to stay in one spot. So I tried to distract him”

“Mom look what she can do!” Nicky had run back over to you and grabbed your hand slightly pulling. “Show them, show them!” You smiled at the boy. With a soft wave of your hand white light covered your fingers and suddenly a doe popped out of the bushes. It walked up to Nicky slowly before sniffing him. Letting him pet it for a minute then gave you a glance and walked back into the forest. “Isn’t it cool!”

Both of the other witches looked on with awe in their eyes.

“Where is your coven?” The question seems to make you uncomfortable and with eyes downcast you answer.

“I do not have one.” Rio glances over you once more before a memory comes rushing back to her.

It was early morning when she had been called to collect a large number of bodies. The town had been burned to the ground and there were little to no survivors. It took her almost an hour to collect everyone and when she thought she was done she heard a cry. Turning she looked around the room until her eyes spot something moving in the corner. Making her way over there she finds an infant. The baby's skin was spotted and there were lumps on her head with something growing from them. Rio picked the baby up careful and noted how much it resembled a deer. She knew you wouldn’t survive her so she took you to were a mother deer had just had her babies. She placed you down gently and waited. It took a moment but the mother deer took to you quickly.

“You should come with us.” Rio spoke. Agatha looked at her in shock. “She has no coven and Nicky clearly likes her”

[hopesworlld]

౨ৎ hold me and explore me ( i’m so fuckin’ horny ! )

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦

౨ৎ stream juno by sabrina carpenter !

warnings — 18+, smut, p in v, riding, missionary, public sex, breeding kink ?, degradation, harry going feral over gf

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

“so,” you say, lips curled into a glossy smile as you look down at the crowd of people. of your people. your fans all screaming and cheering as you giggled quietly. “i wanna do something tonight that i haven’t done before,”

the screams are overwhelming, for a moment you have to pause, blinking against the soft pink light that had fallen across the stage.

“you all know i’ve been writing songs for a while…” you trail off, winking at the camera before you, “and sometimes not all the songs i write make it into the albums,”

the screaming gets louder, you could see two girls clutching each other in the front row, tear dripping down the cheeks. a large sign in their grasp that read ‘release juno or we’ll kidnap harry’

“but… there are a couple songs that have been leaked that i know you all enjoy,” you laugh, “so, london tonight, please, enjoy tonight as i sing ‘juno’ live for the first time !”

the backing track began to play as a spotlight suddenly fell on you, you stuck your earpiece in. shielding the sound of the screams as you brought the microphone to your lips.

don’t have to tell your hot ass a thing oh, yea you just get it

your backup dancers all surround you as you prance around the stage, a mix of choreography and just letting loose as you sing your little song. eyes locking on the box where you know harry is currently watching you.

whole package, babe, i like the way you fit

you find yourself giggling as you sing, while this song had been leaked on the internet months ago harry had never heard the full song. he knew bits and pieces but for the most part you had kept it hidden. and with how chronically offline your boyfriend was it wasn’t hard to not have him know about this song.

you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

harry loved watching his girlfriend perform. adored the way she looked on stage, all flirty smiles and fluttering lashes. clad in little outfits of glitter and lace, looking like an absolute dream while he stood and stared. completely enthralled by her.

it had been a while since harry had got the pleasure of watching you on stage, but right now you were all he could think about. his lips twisted into a stupidly loving smile as he listened to you talk to the audience about singing an unreleased song.

the song started out gentle, a little flirty and fun, but the more you sang harry’s jaw began to drop.

his pretty little pop star girlfriend dancing around the stage singing about him… about what she wanted to do to him.

oh, late at night i’m thinkin’ bout you, ah wanna try out my fuzzy pink hand cuffs?

he grinned, remembering the day you had walked into the bedroom, face glowing, a pair of fluffy pink hand cuffs in your hold.

“look what i found,” you giggled, swinging them around your fingertips. harry laughed, sitting up and running a hand through his mess of curly brown locks.

“you wanna handcuff me, pretty girl?” he asked, raising a brow that had your cheeks flushing, bottom lip sticking out slightly in a pretty little pout.

“i was actually hoping you would use them on me,” you said, a grin suddenly appearing on your lips.

harry had you on the bed in a matter of seconds.

i know you want my touch for life if you love me right, then who knows? i might let you make me juno

you winked at the crowd, kicking your leg up in a little flick and harry felt himself harden beneath his jeans.

he had watched juno for the first time with you, it was one of your all time favourite films and after you started dating harry you had forced him to watch every movie you deemed unmissable. but in all the times he had watched it he had never imagined you up on stage like this.

telling the world that you might let him fill you up and round your stomach with his baby. he had to bite back a groan.

one of me is cute, but two though? give it to me, baby

you and harry had talked about having children before, it was something you saw in the long run. a future dream that you wouldn’t dare touch during such active careers and touring that had you two apart for months at a time sometimes.

but you were there, singing about it. a smirk painted on your lips and harry could swear you were looking right at him.

harry wanted to tear that little outfit from your body and fuck you full of his cum until he was sure it had taken.

wanna try out some freaky positions?

he watched as you did a little run before dropping to your knees along the platform that lead you into the crowd.

have you ever tried this one?

you were on your knees, as though you were straddling someone, and he watched as you fucking bounced, swinging your arm around like a cowgirl holding a lasso before you winked.

harry was so fucking gone.

his dick was rock hard beneath his jeans, straining uncomfortably against the fabric as he watched you brush a hand through your hair, flicking back a mess of curls and giggling as you continued to sing.

before harry you had never ridden anyone, it was something you confessed late one night after one too many glasses of wine for the both of you.

that night you had bounced on his cock so prettily. tears streaming down your face, as harry held a tight grip on your hips, guiding you as you gasped and winked at the fullness of his dick plunging straight against your cervix.

“fuck, pretty girl, look so gorgeous riding my cock,” harry groaned, leaning up and latching his lips around one of your pert nipples that had you clenching around him.

“feels so good,” you whimpered, rocking your hips, chasing that delicious release that crawled up your spine.

“made for this, baby, made to ride cock,” harry groaned against your tits, “come on, wanna see you come all over me, pretty, fuck,”

your head fell backwards, gasping with pleasure as you tried to keep a steady rhythm, but with barry so deep inside of you, you couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, all you knew was him.

“harry,” you cried as the man slowly began to lift his hips, meeting your thrusts, and in a few moments he had you creaming all over his cock. sobs escaping your lips as he spilled deep inside of you.

adore me hold me and explore me mark your territory

as you sang, you trailed a finger down the side of your neck and leading down your body to your thighs. exactly where harry loved to litter your body with his marks. adoring the way you looked with your thighs covered in crimson. 

tell me i’m the only, only, only, only one

you were a possessive little thing, you always had been. since you and harry had made it official you hated seeing him with anyone else, always clinging to his arm and making sure everyone knew that he was yours.

and he remembered the first time you had said this to him.

“tell me i’m the only one,” you hissed, head against the mirror as harry pounded into you, hips crashing against yours in the bathroom of a very nice restaurant. “tell me,” you begged, tugging at harry’s hair and making him look into your glossy eyes.

“you’re the only one, baby,” harry swore, thumb slipping down to your clit, swirling it in a way that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “only one i want here with me, only pussy i ever wanna fucking fill,”

“not her?” you asked, referring to one of harry’s exes who just so happened to be in the same restaurant as you during a celebratory meal between harry and his team after his album release.

“never, i only want you, baby,”

adore me hold me and explore me i’m so fucking horny

harry’s jaw dropped, and you were grinning, doing the impression of thrusting before laughing and jumping up and running off.

he was so fucking horny right now.

he couldn’t believe you hadn’t warned him about this. he couldn’t believe you had written this. and he never wanted it to fucking stop.

you make me wanna make you fall in love

he was so, so, so in love.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

“you are fucking insane,” harry hissed. his cock buried deep inside of you. your head was lolling against the pillows of your bed in the hotel room, plush lips parted and coated in droll. “singing that song, not telling me, getting on your fucking knees like that. fuck!”

“thought… thought you’d like it,” you whined, bringing your legs up around his waist. holding him close to you as he thrusted into your weeping cunt.

“liked it?” harry asked with a chuckle, bringing one of his hands up and grasping your cheeks in his big hands, “fucking loved it, baby, seeing you on that stage. singing about how you want me to fuck you full of my cum, get you pregnant,” he groaned.

“harry,” you sobbed, “please,” you begged.

“what is it, pretty girl?” he asked, “you want that, huh? want me to fill you up?” you nodded rapidly, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“you are releasing that song,” harry whispered in your ear, “and next time you perform it i want my cum to be dripping out of your desperate little cunt,” he told you, placing a kiss on the shell of your ear. “you want that, baby?”

“yes, yes ! harry please,” you wept, gasping for breath and harry continued to drill into you.

you were definitely releasing that song.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿

first harry fic since i was about 14 so hope you liked this. honestly guys after what happened to liam i have trauma bonded myself back to harry as a way of coping.

was listening to sabrina on the way to work and came up with this idea so,,, i hope you enjoyed ! thanks for reading ! mwah !

[slu7formen]

disarmed by desire. | luke castellan x f.r

₊˚⊹♡ luke can’t seem to get out of his head a certain someone, things become even harder when that certain someone, is an aphrodite’s daughter.

warnings: seduction, sexual tension, luke is obsessed over reader, reader’s an aphrodite’s daughter, reader has long hair (not really a warning but whatever).

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

pt2 here

Luke Castellan was obsessed with you.

No, not obsessed. He worshipped you.

He didn’t even know when it started. It was not one thing or situation that started it all, but little small things he witnessed that eventually lead to his confusing and strong feelings he wanted to desperately hide.

Being an Aphrodite’s daughter was no joke, nor was it falling for one of them. All of your brothers and sisters shared an unbeatable beauty. Each one of you is so different, but yet so similar. But the more you grew since your arrival to the camp when you were fifteen, the more you stood out to Luke’s eyes. The Aphrodite cabin girls were known for their charm, but you seemed different, less concerned with vanity and more with genuine connection.

The first flicker appeared during Capture the Flag. Luke wasn't actively participating, a rare occurrence for the camp's best swordsman. Instead, he leaned against a tree, nursing a minor but piercing shoulder wound himself, when she appeared. She wasn’t running across the battlefield like a fiery warrior, but holding a kid’s hand as he was a whimpering mess walking behind her, he sat down on a rock and she instantly attended his bloody knee.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry” her voice had said, and the little kid almost immediately stopped sobbing. “Other kids can be mean sometimes. What’s your name?”

Luke watched, spellbound, as your nimble fingers, surprisingly calloused for a daughter of Aphrodite, expertly cleaned and bandaged the wound. Sunlight kissed your hair, turning the braids into strands of melted gold. Laughter danced in your voice, calming the kid down and blending with the clash of swords.

It wasn't just your beauty, though that was undeniable. It was the tenderness in your touch, the quiet confidence radiating from you, a stark contrast to the usual flirtatiousness Luke associated with your cabin. He quickly realized you were also one of the few Aphrodite’s daughter who had the ability of influencing others with your voice; charmspeaking.

Even when your voice didn’t resonate for him, but for the little kid you were attending, he felt undeniably attracted to your sweet melody, maybe that’s why he stared so long at you too.

Then, your eyes met his. A smile bloomed on your lips. "Need some patching up yourself, brave knight?"

His breath hitched as your eyes pierced his, a blush creeping up his neck. He stammered, "No, I'm good." But the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He wasn't just injured physically; a new wound had opened in his chest, one caused by a flirty smile and a concern genuine enough to pierce through his thick built-up walls.

Luke's attraction to you wasn't solely physical, but he'd be lying if he didn't find himself momentarily stunned by the way you carried yourself.

He couldn't help but steal glances when you wore shorter skirts or crop tops that hinted at the toned physique earned through years of training, or when the older campers organized a secret night out at the lake in which you made sure to wear the best bikini you could find. He'd catch himself mesmerized by the way sunlight would dance on the curves of your body, sending a flicker of heat through him and his own veins. There was an undeniable beauty in your perfectly applied makeup, but it only served to highlight the mischief sparkling in your eyes and the warmth etched on your smile.

It wasn't just the jealousy your beauty ignited in other girls, or the admiration you garnered from younger campers. It was the way you moved, how confidence flowed through you like liquid gold, making even the simplest actions seem captivating. One afternoon, he saw you braiding wildflowers into your hair, your fingers moving with practiced ease, and he found himself staring with parted lips, hypnotized by the delicate beauty you created.

He started finding himself drawn to her laughter, its rich melody echoing through the camp. He'd catch glimpses of her practicing archery, her form uncannily elegant even as she sent arrow after arrow into the bullseye.

She was perfect.

His mind would try to rationalize, tell him it was the warrior in you that drew him in, the way you handled a sword with both grace and ferocity. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. It was the way your beauty existed in perfect harmony with your strength, a potent combination that left him both breathless and curious.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, not even to himself, but the truth was, Luke found himself daydreaming about brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth of your skin against his fingertips as he leaned it for a kiss of your sugar lips. Something as simple as that had him zoning out of every conversation and forgetting about activities in the camp. He imagined the playful glint in your eyes when you caught him staring, the teasing lilt in your voice as you challenged him to a duel.

Until, well… a true duel emerged. Summer was just starting after all, and practice needed to be done.

Steel sang beneath the afternoon sun as their practice began. The sky was painted with orange and bright yellow colors, as your darkened figures danced around the field. Luke, known throughout camp as the prodigy at sword fighting, moved with a controlled ferocity, his blade a blur of deadly grace. But his opponent today wasn't your average camper. You wielded your sword with the effortless elegance of a former ballerina, impressive to be someone who’s main skill is not fighting, he had to admit. Each parry was a pirouette, each attack a leap defying gravity.

Sparks flew as your blades clashed, but where Luke relied on brute force, you danced around him, using your agility and unexpected angles to deflect his blows. He felt a frustrated flush creep up his neck and loudly beat inside his chest, every missed strike fueling the unspoken tension swirling between you.

Sweat already glistened on your sun-kissed skin, adding a raw allure to your perfectly applied makeup. It dripped down your collarbone and hid underneath your shirt.

Luke fought with intensity, fuelled not just by the thrill of the duel, but by the desire to impress the captivating enigma before him. You, in turn, met his ferocity with playful taunts and flirtatious dodges, your laughter tinkling in his ears.

Some campers have forgotten about their own practices, drawn to the captivating spectacle between you two. Whispers swirled about Luke's unmatched skill, your surprising prowess, and the undeniable spark crackling between you.

“Look at that” Grover shook Annabeth’s arm, eyes pierced in two shadows swiftly moving around the grass, clashing their blades with resonating grunts and heavy breaths.

“Who’s that?” Percy suddenly asked, eyes wide and parted lips hypnotized by the slender figure whose hair flew around like it had its own life.

“yn, an Aphrodite’s daughter” his friend explained. “Not bad at swords at all, though. But she’s got Luke on his nerves”

Percy nodded. “Yeah, I can tell”

But Annabeth laughed. “Not that kind of nerves. Let’s just say she’s enjoying the attention Luke gives her”

The fight went on, each passing moment stretching the boundaries of skill and endurance. Your movements were a whirlwind of elegance and precision, forcing Luke to constantly adapt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Tired, hero?" you purred, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you walked around him and twirled your sword, the sunlight reflecting off its polished surface. "Perhaps a touch of Aphrodite's charm is what you need?"

Luke gritted his teeth, channeling his growing attraction into focused strikes. But despite the heat of the battle, your image kept blurring his vision - your smile, the way your hair fell around your face, how your cheeks flushed red and your glossy lips parted as you blocked his movement against you one more time. He felt his defenses crumbling, his usual stoicism replaced by a raw need to prove himself, not just as a swordsman, but as a man worthy of your attention.

“Careful, princess. Playing with fire might just burn you” he countered as he parried a particularly fierce blow, the impact sending a tremor up his arm. His voice was low enough for only you to hear.

"Oh, Luke" you laughed. “Thanks for worrying so much about me but, I know how to handle a little heat" You lunged, your blade aimed for his shoulder. He barely deflected it, the tip grazing his bicep, sending a jolt of adrenaline through him.

In a swift, mesmerizing blur, your blade danced around his, finding an opening. The clang of steel resonated as your sword disarmed him, sending his clattering to the ground. Silence descended, broken only by the ragged rasp of his breath.

He lets his knees fall to the ground, thinking you would have enough mercy for him to give him a break. But he found himself with the tip of your blade resting gently under his chin. You tapped it twice.

“Up, Castellan” you demanded. He looked up at you.

Your eyes, sparkling with both victory and amusement, held him captive. Sweat and dust smudged your face, adding a primal beauty to your already breathtaking features.

A slow smile tugged at his lips, not of defeat, but of something deeper. He lifted up his hands. "Seems I underestimated the true power of Aphrodite's daughters" he rasped, his voice husky with exertion and something else – an undeniable desire.

“Hell yes you did!” one of your sisters replied, earning a few laughs from the rest of the campers.

The small crowd erupted in cheers once the battle was determined as won by you. Luke eventually got up, sword still under his chin. He was much taller than you, to which you had to lift your own head up to fully see his face.

The roar of the crowd faded into a distant hum as Luke only focused on the heavy pounding on his chest, sword dangerously still close. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, tracing a path past the flush blooming on his cheeks.

"And it seems that our little hero falls not just to skill, but also to some… irresistible charm" you purred, amusement tugging at your lips.

Luke grinned, a touch cocky, a touch breathless. "Perhaps," he conceded, voice husky with exertion. "But I wouldn't call it defeat” he cooed as you slowly put your sword down, placing it next to you. His gaze dropped, tracing a slow path down the curve of your sweat-kissed neck, lingering on the way your shirt clung to your form. Your exposed legs shined underneath the weak sun. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the playful banter now infused with something hotter, more primal.

"Besides," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "victors deserve their spoils, don't they?"

His words hung heavy, loaded with hidden meaning, a meaning only the two of you seemed to understand now. You felt a blush creep up your neck, surprised by the sudden shift in his usual way of being towards you. You knew he knew you flirted, that you did it with ease. But this was different. This was Luke Castellan, the stoic, the untouchable, and suddenly, he was playing your game.

"And what kind of spoils are you thinking of, big boy?" you countered, your voice barely a whisper.

Luke looked around, campers long gone, already going back to their own activities as soon as your tense situation ended.

He stepped in closer, the space between you shrinking to a charged silence. "Maybe,-" he rasped head down and still heavy breathing, "a dance with the warrior who disarmed me not just with her blade, but with her breathtaking distraction."

His eyes flickered down to your lips, the unspoken desire sparking a flame within you.

“Or maybe something a little more private, as you wish” he continued.

The world seemed to shrink to the heat emanating from your body, the intoxicating scent of wildflower and victory mingled with sweat. Your pulse quickened, a blush blooming on your cheeks.

You laughed in disbelief, smoothly placing your long hair on one side of your head, bright mane elegantly falling like a cascade without you even trying. "Bold proposition, handsome" you replied, voice barely a breath, still trying to catch it. The nickname twisted Luke’s guts, in a good way, might as well have woken up something else. "But maybe you should focus on winning a proper duel before demanding rewards"

He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Challenge accepted, my lady” he whispered, stepping back and raising an eyebrow. "But know this; our next battle won't be fought with steel, but with wit, charm, and a touch of something… different"

You tilted your head to the side as he took his sword from the grass. "And this time, I won't underestimate an Aphrodite's daughter, or the power of warrior who knows how to play just as dirty as she fights"

This wasn't the playful banter you were used to, but you sure liked it. This was Luke Castellan, awakened, and the thrill of it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"We shall see, Luke" you countered, your voice husky with a newfound nervousness as you pronounced his name. "We shall see."

As you turned to address a new opponent on the field, the memory of his voice, hot and suggestive against your ear, lingered on your skin. This wasn’t what you started, this was a dance of unspoken desires fueled by sweat, steel, and the awakening of a forbidden hunger in the heart of Luke Castellan. And you, the daughter of Aphrodite, were ready to play.

He couldn't help but watch you go, his heart brimming with a newfound determination. He admired your skill, your wit, your beauty, and most of all, the way you made him feel – breathless, excited, and utterly captivated. Your golden figure disappeared into a new crowd of campers looking for someone else to fight.

This was about to be one of the best summers ever.

pt2 here <3

I’m so delulu over this man istg

Currently reading PJ 3rd book :) Had to retake my lecture after I watched the show

ALWAYS OPEN FOR REQUESTS! <3

[postracehair]

true north

max verstappen x reader | 3.8k

Four times you and Max find each other over the course of your relationship.

cw: softness, aftermath of a race crash (that i totally made up, btw), growing relationship, fem!reader

a/n: this came out of a dream i had about max. no joke. thanks for that one, brain. --

A BEGINNING

This whole thing is very new to you, but it's not as intimidating as you expected.

Partying with race car drivers and their friends and girlfriends at a club you'd normally have to wait for hours to get into isn't how you've been spending your weekends. In reality, it's much the same as going out with your friends. Drinks, dancing, laughter, flirting. It's fun. And you're just dipping your toe into this world, thanks to one guy -- Max Verstappen. 

Somehow you ended up in his orbit and he asked you to come out with everyone so here you are. It's a bit unbelievable, really. And now that you're here, you're not sure what to do about it. Do you talk to him? Do you ask him to dance? It all feels so big, even though you know it's not. You're just getting to know each other. 

The club is loud, crowded, sweaty. You need another drink and maybe the bathroom, just a moment to collect yourself. You slip away from the area where the others are dancing, spying Max talking to Charles as you head for the bathroom. He's laughing, drink in hand, blue shirt unbuttoned around his throat. You look away before he can catch you, but you swear you feel eyes on your back as you head across the dance floor. The hallway with the bathrooms is all the way on the other side of the club, and it takes a bit to get through the throng, but once you're there you take a few deep breaths in front of the mirror. 

This is fun, it really is. You just -- you don't know why, but you want to be near Max so badly you're avoiding him. It makes no sense but it's true. You're not even together, barely seeing each other, but already you know he's something special. The way he makes you feel is special. 

God, you wish there were some drunk girls in here with you to give you a pep talk. You try the next best thing. 

"Go out there," you say to yourself. "Go out there and dance with him."

You return to the hallway and get two steps towards the bar when the back of your neck tingles. It's the strangest thing, like all of your senses are dialed up to 11. And then --

Max is in front of you. 

"Oh," you say, smiling. "Hi." Something in your chest slots into place at his arrival. 

"Are you okay?" 

There are lots of people around, but he steps close enough that it feels like it's just the two of you. He's a little sweaty, hairline damp and cheeks flushed. The drink he was holding earlier is gone, his hands floating in the space between you like he doesn't know what to do with them.

"Yeah," you tell him. "I just needed to go to the bathroom. And get another drink."

You didn't realize how tense he was until he relaxes before your eyes, shoulders rolling down his back and his jaw unclenching. Did he think you were in trouble?

"Okay," Max says, boyish and easy. "Let me do that?"

It's a question more than anything, somewhere between confidence and shy flirting. Maybe he's just as nervous as you, even though he asked you to come.

You nod and he places himself at your side, palm firm on the small of your back to guide you to the bar. He orders what you were drinking before -- you didn't even know he noticed that -- and you wait. He leans on the bar, the cuffed sleeve of his shirt exposing his tanned forearm, golden hairs visable all the way up to his wrist as his eyes sweep across the room. 

"How did you find me?" you ask him. Though you're in the pocket of space he's carved out at the bar, Max doesn't hear you over the music. His brows furrow and waves his hand in annoyance and steps closer, so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. 

"What?"

You repeat it, lips close to his ear. 

"Oh," he says, leaning back so he can look at you as he talks. "I looked around for you but didn't see you. Then I just headed in the right direction, I guess." He shrugs and absentmindedly rubs his chest with his palm, right in the spot where you felt something shift when he found you.

"Impressive," you tell him. You mean it.

He grins crookedly. "That's me." The bartender hands him your drinks. "I'm glad you came," he says, so quick you wonder if he meant to say it at all. 

"I am too," you reply. You smile at each other like idiots until Max seems to realize you're taking up space at the bar and hands you your drink. His palm finds your back again as you make your way back to the section where your friends continue to dance. 

"You found her!" Charles shouts when you get there. "Nice job."

You duck your head and lean into Max before you realize you're doing it, but he doesn't take his hand from your back, just slides it around so his palm rests on your hip. Charles just laughs.

It's easy to stay close to Max for the rest of the night once you realize you don't really want to be anywhere else. He seems to feel the same, if the way he keeps looking at you is anything to go by. You dance, you laugh, you feel the world righting itself.

Later, much later, when you're waiting outside the club for the car he's called to take you back to your hotel, you lean into his side again, and wind an arm around his waist. He drapes his across your shoulders and you breathe together.  ___

A FRIGHTENING MIDDLE

It's not your first race, but the first one you're present for where it's ended like this for Max. 

Watching from the Red Bull garage has taken some getting used to. The noise, the people doing a thousand things at once, and Max at the center of it all. You do your best to stay out of the way and not worry too much but it's hard. Especially on days like today. 

He had a great getaway from the front row, capturing the racing line and heading into the turn just ahead of everyone else. It continued like that, as it so often does, until the first pit. Max came in, losing a few places you were sure he'd make up. But then -- someone, you're still not certain who, went in the wall at the worst possible part of the track. A curve that they all know in their sleep, but if you come around it and find a car stalled in the middle? 

Carnage. 

Max got there first, reflexes quick enough to avoid the car but there was nowhere to go. The rear went out from under him and you could only watch in horror as the Red Bull sailed into the wall. Red flag. Verstappen in the wall at lap 32! Verstappen out!

Later, you'll see stills of your face. Your hand over your mouth, your eyes wide. Sheer horror. Max will look at them with his mouth pressed into a grim line before he pulls you close.

But in the moment, you hear his radio and nothing else. Not the commotion in the garage, not the whispers around you. Just GP asking Max if he's okay and his voice, staticky down the line: I'm OK. I'm OK.

They cart him off to medical anyway. 

You get told to wait. 

"It's not that bad," the chatter says. "It's just a routine check." Not that bad? you think. He hit the wall at 200 mph. 

"Bruised ribs," someone says. "Probably. Maybe neck strain. Classic stuff."

You're going to lose your mind. It's no one's fault that they won't take you to see Max. You have no way of knowing if it's a top-down order, or if you're just being overlooked. You're newer in the paddock than most, so it wouldn't surprise you. But, God, you want to see him. Your chest is tight and all you can do is wait. 

A kind employee whose name you don't yet know says you can go to a hospitality suite but you say you'll sit in Max's driver room, thank you very much. You know he has to stop there before the debrief and you want to catch him. Waiting in there is nothing new, but the deep pit of anxiety in your stomach is. You don't care that you're missing the rest of the race. The reason you watch them went in the wall.

"It's fine," you say out loud. "He's fine." They would have told you otherwise, right?

After what feels like a thousand years, you hear voices come down the hallway. Max's voice. 

"She could have some with," he's saying. He sounds annoyed. "You made her wait here? The whole time?"

You stand up just as the door flies open and Max steps into the room. There are people behind him but he shuts the door before they can follow. 

That thing in your chest happens. The one you're used to, by now. He takes another step towards you and everything feels a little bit more okay.

He looks fine. Stressed, honestly. Jaw clenched, eyes wide, but otherwise fine. 

"Max," you breathe. Your hands flutter in the space between you, reaching for him but not sure where you can touch. 

"I'm fine," he says, immediately. "Come here."

He envelops you in his arms and you inhale. He smells like sweat but you don't care. 

"Are you okay?" you whisper. His hand presses up and down your spine.

"Yeah," he sighs. He's holding you so tight that you feel his ribcage against yours. "I'll be sore tomorrow. I'm sore already. But nothing major."

You pull away just enough to kiss him, a closed-mouth press of your lips to his. Proof that he really is okay.

"That was scary," you say. "They said you were fine, but I was scared."

The tension returns to his jaw and you cup his face to try to smooth it away. 

"The rear just got away from me when I swerved," he grinds out. "I can't believe they didn't let you come to the med tent."

You pull out of his arms to gather the clothes he'll change into before going to the press pen to recount the crash. 

"It's okay," you say, though it certainly was not. You feel much better with him in the room, so much so that you're willing to let this go. "Don't yell at anyone." 

Max gingerly balances his foot on the bench to unlace one race boot, then the other. 

"I think I should yell at some people, actually," he says. "It's fucking ridiculous. I can only imagine how awful it was to wait."

He unzips his race suit and you help him shimmy it off. 

"Fucking? That'll be 30,000 euro, please," you tell him. It earns you an eye roll. You tug off his fireproofs and he winces. "Careful."

His chest isn't bruised but you worry that it will be. Max shrugs on a clean Red Bull shirt and frowns. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," he says. You want to protest but honestly, you agree with him. He traces your bottom lip with his thumb. "I was looking for you the whole time."

"Yeah?"

Max nods. "Always am. You know that."

You smile at him. "You seem more angry about this than the crash," you tease.

He clicks his tongue. "Oh, I'm angry about that, too. But one thing at a time."

There will be plenty to say about it later. Why the red flag took so long, why the grip abandoned him, the points lost. A thousand things to analyze, per usual. 

You hand him his pants. "Do you need help with these?"

"I can put my jeans on by myself, thank you very much," he deadpans. "Feel free to take them off later, though."

"Flirt." He finishes dressing and you perch on the table to watch. "Come here," you say, once he's done. "Let me fix your hair."

He frowns and makes a disgruntled noise. "I'm sweaty."

"Max." Maybe you just need to touch him. Maybe he can tell, because he steps between your knees and allows you to fuss. 

"I'm just going to put a hat on," he reminds you, but doesn't pull away. For a second, you have a hard time pushing away all of the things that could have happened. He came back to you. That's what matters. 

Max, as he always seems to, senses the train of your thoughts. He pulls you close, pressing your ear to his chest so you can hear his heart. 

"Don't you have to go to the media pen?" you say into his shirt. He strokes your hair and sighs.

"They can wait." ___

REUNION

He's never explained why, but Max likes to pick you up at the airport. It's a bit of a drive from Monaco to Nice and he could easily send a car, but he refuses every time. 

If you won't ride on the jet at least let me drive you, he says. So you fly commercial to Monaco and he meets you. You try to arrive late at night so the airport is mostly empty, and, despite being a World Champion, Max knows how to blend in when he wants to. That, or maybe the people of Monaco don't mind all that much that he picks his girlfriend up at the airport. 

The terminal is dotted with people doing what you do late at night in airports. Sprawled in seats, feet up on their luggage, yawning or asleep. You shoulder your duffle and head for baggage claim, an old Red Bull cap of Max's tugged low over your brow. Immigration, Customs, and then, finally, the exit doors to the arrivals level. 

As soon as you're through them you see him. 

Max stands there alone in his hoodie and jeans, scrolling on his phone. He's got one hand tucked in his pocket and a decidedly not Red Bull hat on his head -- this one is just a solid black. His under the radar look.

You're looking at him for barely a moment before he looks up, right at you, and grins. The hook in your chest warms, pulls, sings. You pick up your pace, practically jogging over to him, duffle banging on your hip. 

He's ready for you, catching you with one arm and wrapping you in the other when you collide with his chest. Your bag drops at your feet and you laugh into his neck.

"Hi," he says. "That didn't take long."

You'd texted him when you landed but expected it to take longer to come out the other side. "Guess I'm lucky today."

He gently puts some space between you so he can whip off your hat, cup your jaw and kiss you lightly before replacing it.

"This looks familiar," he says. "Have you at least washed it?"

"Probably," you tell him. "What if I like your sweaty hats?"

"You're weird." Max leans down and shoulders your bag, laughing. "How was the flight?" You can't help it, you kiss his cheek quickly just to feel his stubble under your lips. He looks amused but allows it before draping his arm across your shoulders. 

"Fine," you tell him. "Long." 

He smells good. Freshly showered, probably, with a hint of cologne. You could tease him about it, about tidying himself up for you, but god, you've missed him. There are probably paps somewhere, people you don't know snapping pictures of moments that should be just the two of you, but you can't bring yourself to care much this time. 

"What have you been up to?" you ask. 

It's a little chilly once you step outside, but Max never parks far from the doors. 

"Eh, not much," he says. "Cleaned the litter box." Ah, that might explain why he showered. 

"You spoil me," you tease. "What more could a girl want? And how are your darling cats?"

Max pinches your hip and you gasp. "They missed you," he says. "Expect them to want to sleep on your face tonight. Did you eat?"

It's a little late for dinner so you shrug, but Max says your name in his no-nonsense tone. 

"A snack," you confess. "Back before takeoff."

"Hm. What do you want?" he asks. "We can stop somewhere, or I can make you something when we get home."

Home. "You can cook for me, if you want," you say, a bit shy. "But don't you have meeting tomorrow morning? We don't need to stay up late."

Max waves away the idea. "I pushed everything."

You want to argue with him about it but you don't. Max will do anything for you -- to make sure you're comfortable, you're fed, you're happy. It makes you feel very loved but it is also overwhelming, to be loved like that. All he asks is that you let him, so you try. 

He fishes the car keys from his jean pocket and unlocks it. His car -- a fancy thing with too many buttons for a street car, in your opinion -- flashes its lights. Max pulls away from you and puts your bag in the car as you head to the passenger door. 

It's a low car, so you flop into the seat and then he's there, one hand on the top of the car and the other on the door, looking down at you. Even in the vaguely lit parking lot he is so handsome. Blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles, dark blonde hair a bit windswept from the French breeze. Sometimes you don't know where to look. His jaw? His cheekbones? The freckle on his lip?

Max seems to be staring at you just as intently. "What?" you ask, squirming a little.

He smiles even wider. "Nothing," he says. Then he leans down and you lean up and out of the car, tugged forward by that damn string between you, to meet him in another kiss. Firmer than the first, but still quick. His teeth flash in a pleased grin when he pulls away and then he's closing the door. 

You press the back of your hand to your cheek and feel how hot it is. Truly absurd, how flustered he can make you. 

Max slides into his car and starts it up, reversing out of the parking lot and heading for Monaco. It shouldn't take too long to get there, maybe a half hour. He turns on the radio and you wince.

"You can pick the music," he mutters, eyeing your grimace. 

"Oh, thank god." You turn off his club hits playlist and put on something more to your taste. He shakes his head at you in mock disgust and you just laugh. 

The lights of the highway from Nice illuminate Max's face and you just watch. His brow, his jawline, his nose. He reaches over between shifting gears to squeeze your knee.

"Missed me?" he asks. 

"Missed your pretty face," you reply. He flushes.

"Enough," he says, but he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth so he can kiss your palm. ___

TRUE NORTH

It's not new, not anymore. You know the ins and outs of a race weekend. Where to be, what to expect. And by now you've seen it all -- crashes, losses, safety cars. Rain, botched strategies, podiums. 

And this. 

Wins.

It's clear that Max has it with more than 20 laps left, but anything can happen on track and everyone knows it. So you hold your breath. The McLarens disappeared from contention back at the start. 19. 15. He makes his way through lapped cars with no issue. The Ferraris can't catch up. The interval only increases. Verstappen ahead by 15 seconds! It's a remarkable showing after such a poor qualifying and what seems like everything against him. 10 laps to go. 5. Final lap.

The garage rushes out to the fence to wave him by. You can't tamper down your grin as you're ushered with everyone else to the barriers, the team knowing to have you right at the front. FIA officials put out the podium place markers and the other two cars  -- Charles and Carlos -- come in but you only have eyes for one. 

Max takes his time getting out, but when he does, he pumps his fists in the air and points at the number on his car. 1. That's right. 

He hops off his chassis and full-out runs to the barriers, jumping into the arms of his team. The mechanics who work tirelessly every weekend, who are behind him 100%. Cameras flash and everyone roars. They set him down and he turns to find you, doing so with ease. He winks, but Carlos's hand on his back pulls him away to congratulate the other two and get his weight ticket. 

You wait your turn. He always comes home to you. 

Max makes quick work of it -- taking off his helmet, his balaclava. A quick swallow of water, hat shoved on his head, and then he's jogging back to the barriers, straight for you. 

You're ready. He wraps his arms around you in a tight and sweaty hug. He's still calming down his heart rate based on how it pounds against you through his race suit and he steals your exhale with a kiss, quick and hard. 

"There you are," he says. "Found you." Thousands of people scream around you and cameras flash but, as it always is with Max, that all fades away. It's just the two of you, the thread between you pulled taught. 

"Always do."

He really should leave you to do his post-race interview, but he keeps his gaze on your face, smile wide and eyes bright. 

"How was that?" he asks. 

You purse your lips and tilt your head to one side. "Decent," you tell him. "Simply lovely."

He laughs. You reach for him, trace the helmet lines on his cheek with your thumb, and kiss him again. Someone whistles and your smiles only get wider pressed against each other.

Later, he stands on the top step of the podium as his national anthem plays. You hum along, chin tipped high to keep your eyes on him. And Max, as he grins ear to ear, finds you in the crowd instantly. You feel it in your entire body when he does -- a flame that's lit beneath your ribs, a skip of your heart in your chest like he's holding it. His eyes return to you again and again. When he waves at the fans, when he hoists his trophy high in the air, when he sprays his fellow drivers with bubbly. He'll do his post-race responsibilities and celebrate with the team, and then you'll leave together. It's a beautiful future.

Magnets, you think. A compass, always pointing you home. 

[aakeysmash]

you and college!sukuna see each other at a party

college!sukuna masterlist

Going to the same college as college!sukuna means you inevitably see each other at a couple of parties you both attend to. It doesn’t happen that much, because you and him are both heavily set on sitting on your living room couch doing absolutely nothing the majority of the nights, and you try to ignore each other when you know you’re going to be in the same place out of the house. But when Sukuna manages to leave Yuuji at one of his classmates’ houses for a sleepover, his friends get a whiff of the news and drag him out of the apartment.

He does put up a fight about it, because Sukuna being Sukuna, he hates parties; even more if he has to pay for a ticket before entering. The rancid smell of alcohol mixed with sweat makes him want to punch someone. Not to mention girls always try to get in his pants, and while in the past that would have stroked his ego, now he finds himself annoyed by it. The chicks seem to be copies of each other: really short dresses, really long batting lashes, really dragged out alcohol induced words and he really doesn’t care about any of their tits pressed on his arm.

You, on the other hand, hate men who touch you on the dance floor. Your girls convince you to hit the club every time (“every time” probably being less than 3 times in the whole year) because they say you will have “so much fun”, but your definition of fun isn’t being groped by a guy you don’t even think attends your college to begin with.

Today you find yourself searching for the bar after the last guy who tried to squeeze your ass almost got kicked in the balls by you. You plop down on a bar stool and absentmindedly order a drink (of course there’s fruit in it), and while you wait for the barman to serve you, you take out your phone from your purse. You scroll on your socials, getting bored in 5 minutes, and while you softly tap on the counter with your freshly done nails you decide you had enough.

Message to: Worst roommate ever: is Yuuji home?

The message gets through but doesn’t get read. You roll your eyes, thinking he’s probably busy doing absolutely nothing inside the apartment. You feel so jealous.

“Come on man, you’ve been here like… two hours,” comes a male voice behind you. You don’t bother turning around, resorting to sipping your drink before swirling the straw around. “Just take someone home and relax,” the boy continues. You scrunch your nose. That’s a disgusting thing to say.

“You mean I’ve already been here two hours. I’ve had fucking enough. I’m going home. Alone,” someone responds, biting rough voice getting closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see someone slamming one of their elbows on the counter right next to you, and you scoot over away from them. You don’t want to interact with anyone unless they taste like sweet fruit and they’re called “passion fruit mojitos”.

“But whyyy,” the first guy asks, trying to reason with his apparently leaving friend.

“Because I got 10 pairs of tits shoved in my fucking face in the last 20 minutes,” the second one barks out, ordering a gin tonic when he spots the barman. Basic ass.

Suddenly, you receive a text.

Worst roommate ever: no. sleepin over at some kid’s

You sigh. You’re sure you’d have more fun if Yuuji dragged you into one of his latest hobbies. That’s it, you’re still going home, even if you’ll be bored to death either way. You turn around for a split second to leave a tip to the barman when you recognise the pink head next to you. Sukuna has his back turned to you, so he hasn’t seen you yet. You try to sneakily go away, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he’s having with a man you think you’ve seen him with on campus, when you tell yourself that if he really wants to go home you could go home together. At least you’re going to save the money you would’ve given to the uber. You touch his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey-“

“God wants this to be the day I sock a bitch to the ER,” you hear him grit out. His friend, you think he’s called Geto, winces. Then, still turned away, the tattooed man continues with “I don’t fucking care about your pussy, get the fuck out.”

You slap him on the back of his head.

“Is this the same mouth you kiss your mother with?” You exclaim, feigning shock.

“What the fuck?” He whips his head around and you see how his expression turns from an annoyed one to a confused one. He rolls his eyes.

“You know damn well my mother is dead,” he says. You see his friend’s eyes pop out of his sockets. This is not something you say to a stranger. “I almost broke your nose. Don’t play with me,” your almost-roommate says, one side of his mouth lightly raised, as if he’s actually disgusted about seeing you here, completely facing you. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“You should have. I would’ve had a reason to kick you out,” you seethe.

“Oh really? Then who would’ve opened the door for your sorry ass the next time you forget your keys?” He tells you, his face getting closer to yours, menacingly. The friend he still has next to him watches the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault they’re never where I think I left them,” you mumble, frowning.

He smirks. “I should’ve known it was you when you’re the only one up here with a yellow fruity drink. Pussy,” he says, louder, to make you hear every word above the music.

“Fuck you and your basic gin tonic ass.”

He grins. “Baby, have some manners. We can’t have you dirtying your criminal record with sex in public, can we?” He says, lightly caressing your cheek with his index finger. You swat his hand away, glaring at him the meanest way you can. Meanwhile, another guy you recognise as Satoru reaches the barstool. He greets you and gives Geto a questioning look, to which the other responds mouthing “Who is this girl?”. Satoru just shakes his head, giving you a knowing look.

You get back to looking over at your roommate. “Wanna go home?” You ask him, features relaxing. You just want to go home, with or without him, and sleep until tomorrow.

He chuckles. “You’re not helping your case if you say it like that.”

You shrug. “I guess that’s a no,” you say, getting your purse and standing up, heels clicking toward the exit. When you don’t hear him follow you you turn around, and he levels you with a bored look. “Oh okay, so I guess you want the landlord to come knocking at your door tomorrow morning and say you’ll have to pay full rent since I was brutally killed by some random dude this uneventful night, all because you didn’t want to come home,” you almost scream, trying to get your words across the thumping of the bass, turning back around and resuming your walk. You already shot your friends a text saying you’ll be going back with Sukuna, anyway.

“No, wait- come on baby, don’t be like that,” he whines, rushing up his stool and following you. He waves his friends goodbye with a flick of his wrist, and you shoot them a small smile when you pass by them. You and Sukuna continue bickering while getting out of the club. He tries to grab your head and fakes bashing it against the wall, and you push him away jokingly, smiling up at his badly concealed grin. He puts one hand in his jacket’s pocket, the other one grazing your small back to keep you from bumping into random drunk guys. You don’t even seem to notice the gesture, and he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it either. Suguru and Satoru are still watching you two, albeit a little dumbfounded.

“So? Who’s the one that got big captain whining?” Asks Suguru, drinking the gin tonic Sukuna left behind. Sukuna leaving a paid drink behind? After not touching a single girl since he came this night but leaving with you three minutes into a conversation? You must be something, for sure.

“Someone he claims to be a pain in the ass,” answers Satoru, chuckling.