#but then once I read those I’ll just be back here again so I guess I have to wait

[cowboykakashi]

I haven’t read ennead since like 2021 or so and then I just caught up over 48 hours and I have to Wait For More I feel like I’m gonna fucking explode

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Small Touches and Simple Gestures

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> For years you've pretended to be married to avoid unwanted attention. But what happens when the lie you've been living, suddenly becomes true. Well, at least a part of it.

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, one of the agents making a move on Reader though nothing happens (Javi stops it). Fake dating, falling in love, embarrassing mothers, office romance. Heavy smut towards the end, so 18+. Happy ending. A lot of smaller intimate moments between Javi and Reader away from the smut, too. Kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you that three years into working with Agent Javier Peña you’d be wearing a wedding band, marrying you to him for at the very least, the foreseeable future…you wouldn’t have believed them. 

And you would be right not to. Because that, technically, wasn’t what it was for. 

And it had all started with a question that Peña asked you one day as you sat at your desk. 

“Was he real?”

You slowly tore your attention away from the case file in front of you. “What?”

“Your husband.”

For a moment you forgot all about how you’d first come to interact with Peña. He had asked you out. Well, flirted heavily then asked you out. 

“What husband?”

Javi stood as he talked, walking towards your desk and sitting down on the edge of it closest to you. “One day you’re wearing a wedding ring telling me you’re married, the next it’s gone.”

You looked at your hand. “Oh. Yeah.” You decided to admit the truth. “I made him up.”

Despite his constant theories, he was still shocked. “What?”

“I made him up.”

You said it as if you were asking him how his day was. Like it was nothing new. 

“You made him up?”

“You try and be a single woman in this office who doesn’t like getting hit on by every guy who thinks with his dick,” you told him. “See how quickly you make up a fake family.”

He had to laugh. “But I hit on you.”

You looked at him, suppressing an already knowing smirk on your face. “My point exactly.”

“Think I got something.” From the door, Steve came sweeping inside and threw a couple of files down on Javi’s desk. The previous topic was dropped for now but you took a moment to revel in the shock graced on Peña’s face. 

However, a few hours later, it was brought back up again. 

You’d been standing in the evidence locker, looking for yet another misplaced case file. Could people not read in this office? Had they lost all sense of the alphabet? You sighed heavily. 

“How long have you been doing it?”

You jumped and found Peña standing behind you. “Jesus, Peña. Make a noise or something. Fuck.” You turned back to the messy shelf in front of you. 

“So?”

You sighed. “Doing what? This? Feels like hours.”

He shook his head and rounded you before leaning against the side of the shelves. “Not the files. You being married.”

“Oh, uh…” You pulled a few hefty files and handed them over to him before reaching down onto the lower shelf and pulling those files up. “Couple years, I guess. Since before the Academy.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, or do I need to repeat myself, Peña?”

He shook his head again and put the files down. “No, I heard you. But that’s here. Why did it start?”

You sighed and stopped what you were doing to look at him. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

He let out a small chuckle. “What? Come on, you’re one of the first Agents here to reject me not once, but three different times.”

You raised a subtle eyebrow. “I was married when you did that.”

“The first time, yes.” Javi corrected. “But that was an honest mistake. The second and third time, there was no ring on your finger. And, after this morning, you technically weren’t married at all. Look, just answer my questions and then I’ll drop it forever.”

“You promise?”

He held up his hand. “Scouts honour.”

You gave a questioned hum. “It’s difficult to imagine you as a Scout.”

“Y/l/n.”

You groaned. “Fine. It started because I got asked out a couple of times by this guy. He seemed nice and all but I wasn’t interested. So, when he asked why I kept saying no, I told him I was married. Swapped my rings over under the bar top before showing it to him. He took it well, apologised and said my husband was a lucky fella.”

Peña continued to listen. 

“Then I moved away. The second time I was with someone but this guy just kept hitting on my friend. She went to the bathroom and then he started on me. Told him I was with someone. He didn’t believe me. So, I showed him my wedding band. Said my friend was married, too. He,” you sighed. “Eventually backed-off. After that it just kinda became my go-to. People I interviewed preferred to see a married woman than a single woman being a cop. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t start out my job as married. But the minute the compliments, and the touching and the dates being pre-arranged because they expected me to say yes…once they all started, I started wearing my wedding ring.”

“So why take it off?”

You shrugged. “Guess I must have forgotten. Besides, nobody has tried anything in the last couple of years. We’ve all been too busy.”

For a moment, Peña’s demeanour seemed to shift. “But I’ve flirted with you.”

You smiled a tired smile and stepped back from the files for a moment. “I work with you, Peña. I like you but I think I’m immune.”

“That hurts.” He deadpanned before placing a hand over his heart. “That…wow.”

You laughed. “I think you’ll bounce back.”

And he did. That night he walked out telling Murphy he had a date with the stall girl he’d met a few days ago. 

The following weeks were hectic as different cases made their way across your desk, all with connections to Peña and Murphy’s biggest case; Pablo Escobar. 

From interviewing victim’s families, to interrogations, to the crappy coffee in the break room. Your days and nights were spent looking over files and dealing with your case loads. Until one afternoon in the breakroom led to something you never had expected. 

There was another Agent working at the Embassy. You’d seen him around a few times, shared a conversation or two. But most importantly, he had seen your wedding ring. You hadn’t missed his behaviour over the last couple of days. It started with smiles in the hallway – innocent enough. Then you found him in your breakroom more. Apparently the coffee was better. Then he was sitting at your table during lunch – apparently his partner was out for the day and he felt like some company. You didn’t miss his eyes clocking your hand. 

“Your wedding band. It’s gone.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but the lie fell from your lips. “Oh, yeah, It’s in for a cleaning. It had a couple dark patches and scuffs on it.”

More things started creeping up. Like how he always stood just that little bit closer and not in a comforting way, when you were both talking. Or how his eyes looked you up and down before you got to speaking distance from each other. 

Then in the breakroom, the ‘compliments’ started. How your hair looked – how it always looked. How you always made ‘women’s clothes look so much better’. How he enjoyed spending time with you because you actually talked to him. 

“You know,” he trailed a finger up your arm and you were three seconds away from breaking it and running to take a scalding hot shower. “I was thinking we could get away for a while. After all, we both deserve a break. Maybe take these lunches outside of the office.”

You stepped back. “I’m married.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that’s a sham.” He told you, taking a step closer as you took another one back. “You never bring him to office parties, there’s no pictures on your desk-”

“I don’t need to prove to you or to anyone else that I’m married.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re not about to tell me he lives in Canada are you?”

“No. He-”

“He’s right here.”

It was safe to say you were shocked, but the agent didn’t seem to notice as he turned round and found Javi standing in the hallway. 

“Peña. I was just-”

“Scaring my wife?”

The guy was turning paler by the second and yet somehow his ego carried him through. “You mean work-wife, because I have to say Javi, that doesn’t really count.”

“How about a marriage certificate? Does that count for you?” Peña finally found you by his side before he whispered to you.

“You okay, cariño?” All you could do was nod, the shock of him pretending to be your husband still settling over you. 

He looked back to the agent who had been hitting on you. “I’m gonna tell you this once and only once. Hit on my wife or scare her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Javi-”

“I don’t think Messina would be happy to learn one of her best Agents was being sexually harassed.”

He nodded, backing away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Javi shook his head. “Not to me. To her.”

Awkwardly, the guy looked from Javi, around the room, back to Javi and then to you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. Peña’s your husband?

“You can go.” 

Taking Javi’s instructions, he left. Peña then waited a minute before turning towards you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He asked, holding the coffee pot in one hand and your mug in the other. 

“Javi…” You looked around the room before looking back at him. “This is gonna spread around the office. You and I -- married.”

He shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Now you’ve got a physical person to pretend to be your husband.”

“Javi.” He handed you your cup of coffee before pouring his own. “Please tell me you are aware of your own reputation? And the fact that we are colleagues? And the fact that I have been making a husband up for god knows how long? People are going to know this is fake and then I’ll be judged – heavily – for it.”

“Why would you be judged?”

You rested a hand on your hip. “This is gonna look like I’ve used you to be my pretend husband and everyone will just feel sorry for me and make a big joke about it with you.”

“Except I’m the one that told him.” Peña pointed out. “If anything, that’s what’s going to spread around the office.”

“Ah yes, I can see the headlines now; ‘Agent Javier ‘slut’ Peña finally ties himself down with a female colleague.’.”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to be tied down if you don’t want to.”

You hit him on the arm. “Be serious.”

“Look,” he set his coffee cup down and took you by the shoulders. “If it becomes anything then we just fake it. We already spend most of our time together anyway, and who hasn’t had an office romance once in their life?”

“I haven’t.”

Peña paused for a second before nodding. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost your office romance virginity.”

“Peña.”

He shook it off. “All I’m saying is, if it becomes a thing, we just…roll with it.”

“Roll with it?”

He nodded. “Roll with it.”

“There’s a chance our careers hang in the balance because I’m pretty sure this breaks at least three rules in HR. And your grand solution is to…’roll…with it.’.”

Javi nodded once more. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was not fine. Neither of you were fine. Especially considering two days later you were both forced into Messina’s office where, before you could spit out the truth, Messina interrupted and said she didn’t want to know. Just that you both had to remain completely professional and that if someone ever caught either of you, you’d both be suspended. 

So, things remained somewhat neutral. You both received a couple of looks from other co-workers. Murphy teased both of you relentlessly, despite being the only one to know the truth since you stopped the elevator when all three of you were inside to tell him as much. 

But then the loud rumours started and people didn’t even try to hide them. 

Whilst pouring you and Peña a cup of coffee each – something you had done almost everyday for three years, you could hear people gossiping. 

“Maybe he knocked her up. Shotgun wedding, you know?”

“I don’t think they’re even a couple. I mean, they never show any kind of affection to each other.”

One disagreed with that statement. “No, I’ve seen him with her a few times. Little touches here and there. Must be their love language. Small touches and simple gestures.”

“That’s cute, I guess. But I kinda expected more from Javi. He was always so…you know.”

The woman beside her sighed, “Yeah.”

You walked away more confused about life than you had been since before you started highschool. 

It was clear the rest of the office ‘knew’ about ‘you and Javi’. And that they each had a different opinion on the matter. And some of them you didn’t even know about, but Javi did. 

He’d heard everything from your marriage to him being a sham because he got you pregnant, to both male and female staff asking him “why y/n?”. Except, it was never in a friendly manner. To the men, it was either because they thought “Javi could have any choice he wanted, and he went for her?”, or because he’d gone for one of the women they had wanted “a shot at” themselves. And to the women it was…much of the same thing, with an added jealous streak wondering why he went for “the one woman who didn’t want” him, when most of the other women who’d worked with him “actually wanted” him. 

Javi’s eyes trailed your every move from the coffee station, back to your desk and then towards him. “You okay?”

You zoned back into reality and handed him his coffee. “Yeah. Fine. What have you got?”

Turning the case file around, he told you. 

Around a month or so later, not much had changed. People were still gossiping about your marriage to Peña, the case was gathering little evidence so the constant reviewing of previous case loads was underway. Between keeping up the lie of your marriage to Javi – despite neither of you having to do much out of your normal routine – and the case work and the constant heart attack you got when Messina would stop walking when stood directly between your desk and Peña’s before humming and moving along, you were running out of energy. 

“Come to mine after work.”

You looked around. People were looking but they were too far out of earshot to hear. 

You took the paper from Javi. 

“Why?”

“You’re tired, and I’m tired watching you eat that shitty stuff from the cafeteria. I’m cooking dinner.”

You looked up at him, shocked. “You can cook?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. After work. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

Javi tapped your desk twice before walking away and looking around the office. Everyone who had been looking quickly looked away before looking back at you. Once they found you looking, they turned back to their work. 

For a moment, you looked at the half stale coffee on your desk. It would be nice to have a decent meal considering you’d been eating left-overs for about a week and half. 

And he kept his promise. 

Javi had left work an hour before you were supposed to. He’d grabbed his jacked off the hook behind your desk, bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your body too tired to fight off leaning into him when he did so. You had meant to clock out of work an hour later but staring at words, losing concentration and trying to focus back in meant when you finally looked at the clock, you were getting close to being forty minutes late. 

“Shit.”

Not bothering to drop your stuff off in your apartment two floors up, you found Javi’s door unlocked like he’d said and you walked inside. 

It smelt like heaven. Good, hot food. And Javi. 

It was quiet as you walked down his hallway and eventually found him relaxing on the sofa, his legs thrown across the rest of it. He was watching reruns. 

“Relax,” you could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see his face. “Figured you’d be late. Food’ll be ready soon.”

With a relieved sigh, you dropped your bag by the steps and walked around. He moved his legs for you to sit down and he watched you for a moment as you pushed the heels of your hands into your eyes and leaned back. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” you admitted. 

“Come ‘ere.” His voice was soft and quiet as he reached out for you by the shoulder. Looking at him for a moment before silently agreeing, you let him pull you down until eventually you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his legs tangled with yours. 

It took him a moment, but Javi removed your hair-tie letting your hair loose before running his fingers through it. You relaxed almost immediately, feeling the once growing headache slowly melt away with each touch of his hand. 

You could have fallen asleep but he didn’t let you. “You’ve gotta eat. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing.”

You groaned a little and buried yourself deeper into his side. “How are you this calming?”

“It’s my natural touch.” Javi told you before kissing the top of your head and sitting up. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Then I promise, you can fall asleep.”

“Hallelujah.” 

It took you a moment but your head eventually stopped spinning long enough for you to sit up and walk over to the table where Javi had set down both of your meals. And it was one of the best you’d ever had; either because he was a great cook, or you were starving enough that any food that wasn’t cafeteria left-overs would taste like heaven at that moment. Though, you had a feeling it was the first one. 

In silence, you both washed and dried. Until you spoke out the pressing question on your mind. 

“What happens if we meet ‘the one’?”

“What ‘one’?” Javi handed you another freshly washed plate. 

“I mean,” you spun it through the dish towel. “To everyone else, we’re married. But what if we end up meeting the person we actually want to date and marry? What do we do then?”

Javi shrugged. “Guess we get divorced.”

“But we’re not actually married.”

“Then we play it by ear. They say when you know you know…maybe when we know, we just…tell them the truth. But I doubt that’s gonna happen.” Javi nearly crapped himself. “For me, not you. I doubt that’ll happen for me.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

For a moment, he was quiet. Thinking. Deliberating. “Back in Texas, I was gonna get married. Lorraine. She was a wonderful woman but…I don't know. I was driving to the church and I just stopped.”

“You left her at the altar?”

“I never made it to the church,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I suppose at some point I’d settle down but…” Javi shrugged. “I can see it happening for you though, so, whenever you do meet him, I can be there to help explain this whole…situation we’ve got going on.”

You laughed a little at that. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you were half asleep before Javi pulled you over to him once more. The last thing you could remember was you taking a deep breath in, the scent of him, his home and his cooking fill your senses. 

When you woke up, you found yourself still on the sofa, the news playing on the TV and Javi cooking in the kitchen. It took you a while before your brain registered you weren’t still dreaming and you’d fallen asleep not only at Peña’s, but also on him. 

“Hey,” Peña shook you back awake. “Breakfast is ready.”

You placed your hand over his and nodded. “Okay.”

Neither of you said anything when you ate, just listened to the news that passed over the speakers of the TV. 

“Who taught you to cook?” You asked, turning to look at him as he drove you both to work. 

“My dad. My mom helped, but dad was the one who burnt less stuff.”

After eating, you’d run to your apartment to get a fresh change of clothes and run a brush through your hair, only to be greeted by your husband at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive us to work.”

So, now you were driving to work with Javi before hopping out of his car and being led with a warm hand at the bottom of your back through the hallways of work before you both finally reached your desks. 

And for the first time in weeks, you finally had the energy to get through your work day. And so did Javi. 

Although things started to change when you got a surprise visit from your mother.

You’d been working for weeks on the same case and in between all of the case work, the fake marriage and the few months that followed, you’d forgotten to write to your mother. 

It was her one agreement with you moving to Columbia. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop you – it was your job and you were good at it, plus, despite all of the gear grinding you had to do every now and again, you loved it. But knowing she didn’t accept your decision to work as DEA in Columbia would have slowly killed you – and her, too. 

Any time she called, you’d either been dead asleep – either at yours or Javi’s – or at work. So, she took the notion to come and see you. 

So when you walked down the hall towards your office and heard your mother’s voice ask you a question, you felt your entire body crash to a screaming halt before realising what and why she was asking. 

“You’re married?” 

“Mom.”

Your mom called your full name and walked towards you. “What this lovely woman just told me better not be true, or else that means I’ve missed my daughter’s wedding.”

You tried your best to remain calm and relaxed. Two emotions you were desperately clinging onto for dear life. “She tells me his name is Javier Pen…”

For a moment, she looked back to the secretary who nodded and whispered his name again for your mother to repeat with full confidence to you. “Javier Peña.”

“Mom, maybe it’s best we-”

Then the secretary spoke up in excitement. “Oh, there he is. Javi!”

Looking up from his own case file, about to turn down the hallway, he found who was calling him before seeing who was standing in front of them. You and, from what he could guess, your mother. 

Shit. Your mother? No. She was back in the States. Maybe he’d remembered her face wrong from the picture behind your desk. 

Walking over, Javi’s hand came to your lower back before he quickly brushed a kiss against your cheek. “Cariño, you okay?”

You tried to remain calm as you said the next sentence. “Javi, this is my mother. Mom, this is my..husband..Javi.”

Then something you hadn’t expected to happen, happened. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” But she still shook his hand and allowed him to press a light kiss to the back of it. 

Carefully, Javi stepped back and pulled you closer towards him, your mother’s eyes never once stopping to not examine the couple that stood in front of her. 

Javi nodded. “We are sorry about that. But, maybe we can make it up to you.”

You looked at Javi a little panicked. But your mother was already interested. “Oh?”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here for a few days? Come and stay with us. I can make us dinner and we can all get to know each other.”

Then your mom smiled. Apparently Javi already had her approval. “Well…I think that would be lovely. But don’t think either of you are getting off lightly. I missed my daughter’s wedding that I didn’t even know about.”

“Honey, give your mother our address, I’ll ask-”

She shook her head. “No, no. You all seem busy. I can take myself there. And I’d like to see what’s around the market stalls. Is there anything I can bring for dinner?”

Javi shook his head. “No, not at all.”

You smiled. “He’s got it covered, mom. Just bring yourself.”

“Alright then. Well, I look forward to seeing you both for dinner.”

In the space of five minutes you’d all said your goodbye’s and you had ever so sweetly pulled your husband towards your office before closing the door and blinds and turning back to your partner. 

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Javi shrugged. “She’s come down here to see you. We might as well make the effort.”

“We? Javi. We don’t live together. She’s gonna take one look around my apartment and realise I still live there. She’s gonna take one more look at my face and realise everything that’s happened is a complete sham and then she’s gonna parade it around town that I’m still single. She won’t mean it harshly, but she will.”

“So, we don’t tell her and just say we haven’t had a chance to move things since getting married. We’ll be okay.”

You let out a panicked laugh before you started pacing. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s bad enough we’re lying to people here.”

“You’re the one that started it before I got roped in.”

“Hey! You roped yourself into this. You were the one that said you were my husband.”

“Would you have preferred for Agent Dickbag to keep pushing?!”

You took a breath. “Javi…I don’t know if I can lie to her. What…what do I tell my family when they find out? This was just meant to keep people like Agent Dickbag away…”

Reading the panic all over your body, Javi stood and walked towards you until you were wrapped in his arms. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll keep the secret up long enough to make sure nobody else finds out the truth, and then you can just say we rushed into things. We got a quick divorce and moved on, civilly.”

“I think you missed your calling in Acting.” You told him. “I think my mom already has your seal of approval.”

“Really?” He pulled back a little and smiled. “That’s a first.”

“We’ll be okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

And you believed him. 

Because it was true. 

In the space of about fifteen minutes, you and Javi managed to move some things from your apartment, into his to make it seem more…homely. Like two people actually lived there. Especially since your mom would be living in your apartment for the next couple of days until she flew back home to the rest of your family. 

“Will she really check the bedroom?” Javi called from the kitchen. 

You’d moved some things to the second bedside table. One or two books, a couple of hair-ties, plasters, “stray” pens. You tried your best to make it look believable as possible. 

“You don’t know her like I do. This woman is Jessica Fletcher. Unsuspecting to the world, but in fact sees everything. Trust me, you do not want to end up in interrogation with my mother. Happened to a perp once. She came in to visit my dad but he was wrangling a couple of the officers so she walked around, found the perp sitting in holding and she actually got a confession out of him. Cops had been trying all day and nothing. A five minute conversation with my mother and they got a full written confession out of him.”

Javi gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So, trust me, what I’m doing? It’s gonna, hopefully, save us some grief.”

Javi was still cooking by the time your mom knocked on his door and you brought her inside. Immediately her eyes scanned the place picking up on the pictures, books and music. 

“It smells delicious.”

“He’s a good cook.”

And for the first couple of minutes everything ran smoothly. Your mother did everything you’d expected her to do. She even passed Javi in the kitchen to look into your bedroom. 

“She really did it.” Javi mouthed. 

“Told you so,” you mouthed back. 

“Mom, do you wanna come and sit down? I can get you a drink.”

“I’ll have a soda if you have it, please.”

You got your mom a soda and poured it into a glass with ice, handing it to her as she stood still examining your home. 

“So, how is he in bed?” She whispered a little too loud to you. 

You felt yourself go bright red. Redder still when you heard Javi chuckle from the kitchen. “Mom!”

“What? I’m allowed to ask my daughter these questions. I need to know you’re being satisfied in every aspect of your marriage.”

You groaned and covered your eyes. “Mom.”

“You’re being careful? Using condoms? You know pulling out doesn’t work as birth control.”

You could have died. “Mom, please. Stop.”

Javi let out a small laugh as he walked from the kitchen and handed you a drink. “Mrs Y/l/n, if you really want to know-”

“Oh no. No, Javi, please. Please don’t encourage her.”

“We’re being safe. Having a family right now probably wouldn’t be the best move for either of us.”

Your mother just graced him with a soft smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not,” you groaned a little. “Can we please change the conversation?”

“You know, she’s always been like this.” Your mom told Javi who only seemed to revel in your terror. 

“Really? This isn’t a new thing?”

“No,” you mom told him. “She went just as red when I gave her the birds and the bees talk.”

“That’s because you decided to tell me in the middle of my middle school hallway during a Parent’s Evening.”

“And when I took her to the doctors to get her on the pill.”

You covered your face. “I’m in hell.”

Javi’s hand reached for your shoulder and shook you lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside you. You leaned into him. 

“I’d finally got it out of her that she’d had sex and next-”

“And next thing I’m being wrangled into an office chair with the doctor having my mother shout from the rooftops her daughter was no longer a virgin.”

Your mom gasped. “It wasn’t like that,”

You leaned into your husband who’d just let out a small laugh. “Please make it stop.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m glad to know you’re being satisfied. Your face tells me more than you think.”

“Okay!” You stood up quickly and tried to run away, only to feel Javi’s hand reach out and pull you back, spinning you to stand by him. From the light red in his cheeks, he felt a little embarrassed, too, but he seemed to handle it a lot better than you. 

He was chuckling. “Don’t think you’re able to run from this. I wanna know more about you from your mom.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be here for it.” You tried to make a break for it again, but Javi caught you and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to slowly disappear from sight as you found yourself trapped in his hands and arms, and his gaze on you, just as yours was on his. And for a moment, you wondered what it would be like if you kissed him. 

Little did you know, he’d been thinking the exact same thing. 

Then a timer went off. 

“That’ll be the food.” Javi kissed a quick peck to your temple before standing and walking towards the kitchen, leaving your gaze to trail after him. 

“You really do love each other,” your mom pointed out from her spot on the sofa. “I can see why you got married. You both need to tell me what your wedding was like!”

And so you did over dinner. With the added linger of whatever had happened when he’d pulled you closer to him. 

You caught Javi looking at you a few times, and subsequently, he’d caught you, too. And, without rehearsal, you’d both managed to bullshit your way through explaining why you’d both decided to get married so quickly. 

From you and Javi, your mother had learned you’d both met when you started in Columbia and you were both ‘friends’ for a while. Not much had to be lied about in that department. Javi’s reputation. Your “ability” to make every man that asked you out believe you were taken. How you’d worked together for a long time before becoming actual friends. Then the lies started…right?

About how you and Javi made a true friendship of sorts over the late nights working, swapping smaller stories until something changed. 

“It was like…my heart had stopped and rebooted itself. Suddenly, everything felt like it had shifted and changed somehow.” Peña explained to your mom. “Nothing had ever been more…clearer and more daunting than ever.”

Then Javi looked at you, and you found a mirrored expression. Sadness? Confusion? Desperation? Fear? Realisation? You didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, you felt it. For some unknown reason, everything he’d just said rang true in your ears, your head and even your heart. 

Nothing had ever been more clearer and more daunting than ever.

By the time your mom decided she was ready for bed, you were already fast asleep against Javi. At some point in the evening when he’d sat beside you, he’d slung his arm behind you and between the warmth and familiarity of him, you’d let yourself truly relax. 

“I’ll walk you up.”

Your mom shook her head as Javi led her towards the door. “I know my way and you’re both tired. I’ll be okay. Get her to bed.”

Javi looked back at you for a moment and smiled.

“You really do love her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Your mom smiled at her supposed son-in-law. “I understand why she fell for you, but I hope you know, just because you’re the first one of her boyfriends, well, husband now. But just because you’re the first I approve of, doesn’t mean I won’t be judging you. You look after her, and you look after her well. Love her everyday. It’s not every day someone gets to spend the rest of their lives with my daughter. I hope you see that as a privilege.”

Javi nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Javi was telling the truth and your mom nodded. “Good. And thank you for dinner. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Mrs Y/l/n.”

Javi waited until he heard your apartment door lock before he shut his own, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

His socks padding his footsteps as he walked back to you, he was careful to pick you up before carrying you to bed and covering you up. You were still fast asleep by the time he climbed into bed beside you, but either way, you naturally rolled towards the slight dip in the bed before reaching out for him like you did almost every time he’d carried you to his bed because you’d fallen asleep in his apartment. 

The only times he didn’t was when he fell asleep with you and woke up as the sun peeked through his blinds in his living room. 

With a contented sigh, you slipped into a dreamless sleep beside him and for a few minutes, he laid awake, listening to your breathing. Then he let his mind slip back through the evening. If the funny feeling in his stomach and chest wasn’t what he hoped it was, but rather was what he suspected it to be, then he would have to soak up your actions as a married couple over the next couple of days before everything went back to semi-normal. 

Because if he was right, and he was growing feelings for you, then these days would have to be enough. Your marriage with him and his marriage to you was meant to be for appearances, only. Nothing real was meant to come out of it, was it? 

Because the feeling in his chest as he looked down at you, asleep by his side and in his arms…that feeling sure felt real. 

Waking up in the morning, you felt more comfortable than usual. No creaky mattress spring giving you a sneak attack from beneath your sofa and into your back, no blinding light coming through curtains you’d forgotten to shut, no cold side to your bed as you turned over. 

Instead, you felt warm. You found warmth. 

Asleep on his front but his arm still across you, you found Javi. Fast asleep, seeming as though not even a gunshot would wake him. 

And rather than jump out of bed or rollaway like you usually would when you found yourself in this position with any man, or even him going off the last couple of months. 

You’d found yourself falling asleep countless times at Javi’s and the majority of the time, you woke up in his bed. 

But waking that morning, especially after the night before, had something feeling different. So you took your time. 

For the first time you…studied him. 

You’d found yourself doing it more and more in recent months. How he sat in a chair, the look on his face when he was annoyed, amused, sometimes even scared. 

And for the first time, maybe ever. He looked…

Peaceful. 

As if it was a Sunday morning and neither of you had to get up for work. Like when he’d wake, you’d both spend the morning in bed before relaxing in your home. 

And for a moment, you let yourself dream about that life. A life where there was no fear of maybe never coming home. A life where you could both…be peaceful. Happy. 

Together, maybe?

After a few moments, you felt a gentle touch against your cheek, and slowly opening your eyes, you found Javi’s hand cupping your cheek, his fingers brushing soft patterns into your skin. 

“Cariño…”

You smiled, finding comfort in the common nickname. “Hey.”

“You been awake long?”

You shook your head, softly. “Not long.”

“Good.” Javi then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here.”

Granting yourself permission to do as he said, Javi rolled over onto his back and pulled you into his side before he decided to ultimately face you. 

Down your back, he traced a singular line back and forth as you both synced calming breaths and listened to the comfortable silence of the room. 

“We could call in sick.” Javi said after ten minutes. “We’ve built up enough time to take the day off. You could show your mom ‘round.”

“We can’t,” you pointed out. “What about the case?”

“The case will still be there tomorrow. And besides, if something changes, they’ll call us in-”

Then you both heard the front door lock open. 

“Javi-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he sat up and so did you. Quietly, he moved over towards his bedside table and pulled out his gun before checking the bullets. 

You both heard the door open and just as Javi was about to leap out of bed, you both heard your mother’s voice. 

“Y/n? Javier? You two sleepy heads awake yet?!”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and sat back against Javi’s headboard. “Jesus Christ.”

“Your mom has a key?” Javi put his gun back and closed the draw as he looked back at you. 

“I told you. Jessica Fletcher.” Then you called out to her. “Mom! We’re in here.”

Letting out a breath, Javi sat himself back beside you just as your mom walked into your bedroom. “Mom, you can’t just break in,” you told her, tiredly. 

“I didn’t break in. I had a key.”

“Both of us could have shot you.”

Your mom looked over both of you and gave a coy smile. “Then it’s a good thing I called out then. You both look…well rested.”

It was too early to even pretend what she thought had happened, had happened. So, tearing your eyes from Javi, you looked to your mom. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have made breakfast for both of you since Javi cooked us such a wonderful dinner last night.”

“Mrs Y/l/n, you really didn’t-”

“Hush now. I was happy to do it. Now, chop chop.” Your mom clapped her hands. “There’s plenty of time for this,” she gestured to you, Javi and the bed, “later. Come on. Before the day is gone.”

And as she walked out, you felt yourself collapse into Javi’s sheets, already feeling your face go hot. 

“She really doesn’t hold back, does she?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled through the sheets. 

Ultimately, Javi convinced you to take the day off with him and after a homemade breakfast, yet another awkward conversation surrounding love-making in the shower – to which Javi nearly choked on his toast. Both you and Javi had showered (separately) before getting changed and deciding to show your mom around the different places in town. 

And despite the stories shared by your mother; thankfully not all of them made you want a hole in the ground to open up the floor. 

You also found spending the day with Javi, outside of work talk, to be more than pleasurable. With his hand in yours, or his arm around you, holding your own across your stomach, you’d both walked side by side for most of the day. He told your mom some things about Columbia even you didn’t know before, easily sharing some stories of his own childhood when your mom asked. 

And you felt…glad, maybe? Like for the first time since moving to Columbia you were home. And it wasn’t just because your mom was there, but rather because of the person who stuck by your side all day, letting you see behind the personal walls he had up at work. The ones that, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t know were even there. 

Yet, despite the entire day feeling like one giant butterfly in your stomach at every touch, look  and graze you felt from Javi, nothing made it feel like the tornado it was when your mom asked if she could film your ‘first dance’. 

Dinner had been long over and the TV had shut down. In the background, a few different records played until one came on and your mother gasped. 

“Oh, please. Please let me see your first dance. I love this song, and I’ve always imagined seeing you dance to it the way me and your dad do.”

From your side, Javi lifted his hand. It was up to you. 

Looking at your mom’s face, you couldn’t say no. So, you nodded and both stood. Javi started the song from the beginning and turned back to face you. In a matter of moments, you were in his arms, your hand in his whilst your other lay on his arm. You could feel his firm hand at the bottom of your back, holding you up steadily. 

Finally, leaning into each other, you could feel his moustache at the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

That was when you found out Javi could dance. At the very least, much better than you could. He led you around the small section of the floor, your temple’s still touching and for a small moment, you closed your eyes. 

You’d also both forgotten anybody else was in the room other than you two. Breathing, heartbeats, pulse, chemistry. It all became one. 

And just as the song slowed, Javi lifted his head to look at you. It was like there was a new light to you in the fading sunlight. New features he’d never noticed before. The small freckles dotted across your face, probably having surfaced after a day in the sun. The soft streaks of baby hairs framing your face. The arch and bow of your cupid’s bow and lips. The light flush in your cheeks as for a moment, he caught your eyes doing the same thing he was. 

Looking. Gazing. Studying. All to commit it to memory. 

Javier Peña, for as best as he’d known, he’d never been so scared in all of his life. But there was one final thing he wanted to commit to memory, whether it be good or bad. And if he didn’t do it then, he was afraid he never would. So, for the first time with you, he did what he wanted to do because, and he hoped, by the look on your face, you wanted it, too. 

With the final few notes of the song, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was firm, steady, strong and then softer. The kind of kiss that you feel long after it’s over. Silence washed over the room as the record came to an end and you and Javi found yourselves looking at each other, only realising you weren’t alone when your mom gasped. 

“Oh, that was just beautiful.” She stopped the recording. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

You and Javi seemed to step away from each other despite it being the last thing either of you wanted to do in that moment. It wasn’t long after that your mom decided to go upstairs to bed. And once Javi heard the door lock upstairs, he locked his own and took a moment before turning back around to find you. 

But you were already trying to avoid the conversation that came next. 

Javi took his time. You both needed a moment to find clarity. After the faucet had been running for a few minutes, only to be switched off by you as you washed the plates in the bowl of soapy water, Javi stood at the kitchen door. 

He watched you for a moment, wondering what to say. What just happened? I’m sorry? He didn’t mean for it to…be that way? Did you feel it, too? Did you want it, too? Did he cross a line?

Then he realised he didn’t have to say anything at all. 

You felt him before you heard him walk slowly across the kitchen floor and stand by your side. With a gentle hand guiding your arm, he spun you to face him and in the silence, your faces shared a thousand words between each other. 

Javi brushed your hair from your face before gently cupping your face. It took enough time between each of his movements to let you object if you wanted to. You stepped closer into him. 

Then he kissed you. 

Having dropped the sponge into the sink, you felt yourself tumble against him as your own hands came to pull him closer towards you. Things seemed to move slightly quicker than before. His hands moving down your body to eventually lift you up and move you onto the counter top, his fingers pushing their way through your hair as your own pulled him in by his collar to kiss you once more. 

With your legs wrapping around his waist, securing him against you, you let out a small sigh behind your kiss. Javi only chased those small noises more after you made your first one. 

“J-Javi.” You managed to find your voice in between his kisses. “Wait.”

He stopped, forcing himself to pull his lips from yours. And for a moment, all you could hear was his breathing and your heartbeat. Both rapid. Both unsteady. 

“We…we shouldn’t…”

His hands still tangled in your hair and his forehead against yours, he shook his head in agreement. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

All either of you could do was breathe. Slowly. Trying to catch some form of air that was at least a close equivalent to the others. 

Kissing you was like a lifeline, and without you he was dying. 

His eyes finally gazing into yours, he found your own tracing his face, already reminiscing on the kiss, wanting more. 

Kissing him was like life was finally being pushed back into your lungs, letting you breathe clearly for the first time and without him, nothing was in focus. 

“Fuck it.”

His lips on yours again, he began to devour you and your taste. He could feel your hands pulling him closer to you, like if you’d let go of him, you’d drown. 

He needed you more than he wanted to admit. 

But you didn’t want him to hold back. So leaning away from his kiss for a moment, you made sure he focused on you. 

“Bedroom.”

He was still drunk on your kiss. “Javi, I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter. Bedroom.”

His lips curved onto a smirk as he pulled you towards the edge and lifted you up. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you we’re married? Cariño, it’s called making love.”

You laughed and so did he before it was muffled out by another kiss. 

By the time morning rolled around, you found yourself wrapped in Javi’s arms, his scent swirling around your senses, locking it into a memory you’d never forget. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. From the arms wrapped around you, to the soreness in your legs, your body was too happily exhausted to move. 

For the next few moments, you watched as he slept peacefully. His mouth parted slightly, simply looking at his mustache made you blush at the memories from barely a few hours previous. Tracing the curves of his face, you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. 

His arms twitched around you. “Javi, I need to use the bathroom.”

Still half asleep, he returned the next kiss you pressed to his lips before mumbling; “Come back.”

“I will,” you kissed him once more before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Whilst in the bathroom, you picked up the long forgotten towels on the floor and picked up the tossed body washes and shampoo bottles from Javi and your haphazard entry into the bathroom after the first two orgasms before the third. 

However, you must have taken too long because as you stood at the bathroom skin, a newly familiar pair of arms made their way from holding your hips, to cradling around your waist. 

You could feel the hair from his moustache as he kissed your bare shoulder, making his way towards your neck where you leaned back against his chest and placed a hand behind his own neck to hold you steady. 

“Javi.”

One of his hands slowly made its way under your top before running his fingers from the top of your chest, across your breast and down below the waistband of your shorts. 

“I missed you.” His tongue dampened the graze of his teeth against your neck. 

“Javi.”

“Is this okay, baby?”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking against his fingers, chasing the pressure he was beginning to swirl around your clit. You hummed a response. 

“I need your words, baby. Is this okay? Do you want this? Because I can stop.”

You shook your head quickly and wrapped your hand around his wrist before he pulled away any further. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

With his fingers circling your clit and his mouth having free range of your neck, you felt your knees grow weak. “Want me to stop?”

Again, you shook your head. “I need…I need more, Javi.”

“How many, baby?”

“Two, ohh…” Your mouth opened and you threw your head back against his shoulder, reveling in his fingers slipping inside your cunt and his thumb applied pressure to your clit. Then you heard him chuckle. 

“Asshole.”

“You fucking love it, baby.”

You did. You really did. It wasn’t long before Javi could feel your walls pulsing against his fingers, growing tighter for him. And his dick hadn’t even left his pants yet. 

“You’re so fucking wet, cariño. This for me?”

You found the strength to nod. “Just for you, Javi baby.”

But whatever strength or control you had left disappeared as the wave began to crash over you and you chased Javi’s fingers as they pumped deeper and faster inside of you. “Ride ‘em, baby. Take what you want.”

You moaned his name, almost chanting it as you came over his fingers. “Fuck,” Javi growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you felt the ache in your legs, still leaning against Javi. 

“Then maybe you should do it again.”

Sharing a look with Javi, he smirked before biting down on your bottom lip, then kissing it better. Pulling his fingers from inside of you, he slowly spun you around by your hips until you faced him. Once he’d tasted everything he could from your mouth, he teasingly made his way across your jaw, down the length of your neck, under your clothing before pulling your soaked shorts down your legs, leaving your glistening and sensitive cunt for him to see. 

Then he tasted the rest of you. 

Pushing you onto the edge of the sink counter, you white-knuckled the edges in fear of gripping his hair too tight to pull him closer to where you needed him. 

You could feel the burn of his moustache against your inner thighs, panty-line before finally his tongue circled your already sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Want more?”

“Y…yes. Javi, please.” Your hips bucked as you chased the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy. “Fuck, Javi.” You let out a gasp as his tongue dipped inside of you for a moment. “Fuck, right…right there.” With one of your hands tangled in his hair, you pushed him closer in order to taste all of you. 

And just as you leaned back to grant him more access, he pulled back. You whimpered, wanting him back. “Touch yourself.” 

“Javi-”

“I want to see how long you can hold it before I fuck you. Touch yourself.”

So you did. All the while watching him take his sweet time watching you as he pulled down his own underwear and pulled a condom on, pumping himself a couple of times before finally settling closer to you. 

“I want to watch you cum again.” And so he did. 

Filling you with his dick, inch by inch, he felt you stretch around him, swearing as you took him in. And then he took his time with you. Reveling in every needy buck of your hips, chasing his dick before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed you just as much as you were begging for him. 

Moaning his name over and over as your orgasm hit you, Javi watched as you came over his dick, him finishing not long after you did. 

Sweaty and covered in sex, Javi pushed the fallen hair from your face and kissed your lips after the silence had settled away from heavy breathing and racing hearts. “We should get cleaned up.”

Pulling his cock from inside of you, he disposed of the condom before walking towards the shower and turning it on. And over the next forty minutes, Javi’s hands were all over your naked body before his fingers tugged at your hair as the tiles of the floor made indents in your knees. By the time you’d both finished, gotten washed and finally dressed, Javi was changing the sheets as you placed the ones from the night before inside his washer. 

For the rest of the day, Javi rarely left your side.

Going back out to the markets with your mom, his hands were constantly finding ways to touch you. His hand pinching onto the skirt of your summer dress, his fingers grazing against your hip and lower back as he changed from standing on one side of you to the other. Holding your hand around you, his arm across your shoulders, his lips in your hair, on the shell of your ear as he talked to you. And when you’d stopped inside a cafe, he sat next to you, his arm across the back of your chair which practically was sitting in between his legs as his body was constantly turned towards you. 

And when you’d both finally gotten home, your mom saying she was going for a nap, the moment Javi’s door shut, the bags were dropped and your back was against the wall of his hallway, his lips on yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“So have I.”

Then a question fell from your lips. “How are we going to keep this up? At work, I mean.”

“They already think we’re married.” He kissed your neck. 

“I’m being serious, Javi.”

“So am I.”

“Javi, Messina already warned us what would happen if she ever caught us. And that was before we were even…”  A couple? Fucking? Dating? Married?

Javi smiled. “So we keep it a secret.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands off me for more than two seconds. You’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Says the woman whose been eye-fucking me all day. Are you sure you can keep a secret?”

“I can keep a secret.” Then Javi noticed your coy smile. “In fact, I’ve been keeping one all day.”

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed his hand to the dip of your hips. He couldn’t feel anything but fabric. Then it hit him. With his chest flaring and his dick hardening, he stepped closer towards you. 

“Mrs Peña…have you been naked under that dress all day?”

You bit your lip. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

His eyes flicking to the hem of your dress, he looked back up at you before slowly dragging the fabric of its skirt up and bunching it in his hand until he could slip his hand under it. And when he was met with bare skin, he swore. 

“Fuck.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d fuck me all day,” you admitted. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Since you walked out of that fucking bedroom in this dress…I’ve wanted to fuck you in it.”

Pulling him closer to you, your voice turned into a low whisper. “Then you better get on with it, Agent Peña. Before I do it myself.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Capturing your lips on his, his finger coaxed at your pussy, already feeling your wetness build for him. As his fingers began to curl inside of you, you let out a moan before your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and jeans. Javi let out a small whimper as your fingers stroked down his cock, wiping the pre-cum away with your thumb before finally pumping him a few times. 

“Take it easy, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna- fuck.”

With one hand, Javi picked you up where you stood, his fingers digging into your ass before he guided his tip in. Letting out a moan by his ear, you told him to start moving. 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

And he did. 

Fucking you against the wall in his hallway, Javi pulled the top of your summer dress down and began leaving his mark across your collarbone and down the bow of your breast, all the while his cock pumped in and out of you before filling you up with him cum. 

“That’s it baby,” Javi told you as you screamed his name as you rode his dick. Then he watched you come. He’d never get sick of that sight. It seemed to get hotter each time. You begging him for more, your moans, his name falling from your lips as he makes you unravel completely. 

But he wasn’t done with you yet. Pulling out from you, he moved you both down the hallway and towards the sofa where he made you come again before moving into the kitchen where he finally fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter. 

Both of you wished it could have continued like that forever, but sadly after your shower, both you and Javi were interrupted by the jingle of keys in the door as your mom let herself in before you and Javi could continue your heavy make-out session on the sofa. 

But that was something you both had to get used to. 

Interruptions. 

From people banging on the copier room door thinking it was jammed, to people walking back into the office after their lunch breaks. But despite the ever growing need to constantly be touching him, or him touching you, you’d both found subtler ways to show how much you not only wanted each other, but also needed each other. 

From the smaller touches when he always found an excuse to stand beside you, to the ever longing looks you both gave to each other as the other one walked away from the desks. There were crappy cups of coffee always being poured, lunches being made and shared, blankets being used to cover up the one that fell asleep first, the knowing looks when a case load became too much, the soft moments spent after a long day of work just laying together on the sofa watching crappy TV and falling asleep, dancing to slower records on down-days, quick kisses goodbye during lunch or during a stakeout for cases, jealous and warning glares being given to those who tried to flirt with the other, and finally slow Sunday mornings that were spent inside the apartment, neither of you leaving unless for a dire emergency. 

And somewhere between all of that, you and Javi had taken a flight to your home where your family and his watched as you both swore actual wedding vows to each other; your wedding party not realising it was the first time for both of you. 

Maybe it had taken a while for you both to come together, and maybe it wasn’t the most conventional of get-togethers. But it was yours and Javi’s story. One that, the more you thought about it, started off with those softer moments. One that always had, and always would, contain those smaller touches and simple gestures. 

[astonmartinii]

popularity contest | alex albon social media au

pairing: alex albon x fem doohan!reader

jack is struggling with making friends in formula one, good thing he’s got an annoyingly popular sister and a reluctantly friendly brother in law.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,209,778 others

f1: for the first time ever, we have in-laws on the grid! jack doohan makes his full debut for alpine alongside his brother in law alex albon, who is married to y/n doohan, one of australia's biggest business women!

view all comments

user1: not for long

user2: for real admin is being a little bit optimistic here

user3: the way franco was last season, i think he’d also like to take y/n off of alex’s hands too

user4: omggggg can you people let us have anything

yourusername: proudest big sister ever

yourusername: and wife i guess

yourusername: alex has been doing this long enough he can wait for the praise

alexalbon: i’ll let him get away with it this once just because it’s his debut

jackdoohan: you’re soooooooo generous alex!

alexalbon: i know this is sarcasm but i’m choosing to ignore that

user5: i’m not reading all of that - don’t care - bring back franco

user6: true i need his cute face back on the grid

alexalbon: never disrespect those doohan genes again

jackdoohan: i knew you believed in me alex

alexalbon: you’ll kill it dude, but i was referring to the fact that i am hopelessly in love with your sister

yourusername: doohan face card never declines

jackdoohan: 💅

user7: i’m so glad jack will have his sister in the paddock and alex, his entry to f1 hasn’t been the kindest

user8: alex is such a beloved personality in the paddock as well so hopefully that’ll help jack make friends

user9: i know y/n has been bugging alex about taking jack to the padel dates

yourusername: ho are you in my walls

user10: flavio briatore if you tear my family apart you will be hearing from my lawyers

user11: i’ll be needing a lawyer after my actions

user12: we need him to ban him again

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, pierregasly and 892,046 others

tagged: jackdoohan

yourusername: baby brother is a formula one driver! words can’t express how proud i am watching him zip around albert park.

view all comments

user13: nothing you people (alpine) can do will ruin this moment for me

user14: her literally crying in the alpine garage with their dad watching him was so cute eventhough sky insisted on yammering on about franco the whole time

user15: i can’t wait for jack to prove them all wrong

liked by yourusername

jackdoohan: it felt 100x better knowing you guys were there too

yourusername: we wouldn’t miss it for the world

yourusername: that includes alex

jackdoohan: he’s contractually obligated to be here

alexalbon: doesn’t mean i’m any less proud!

yourusername: oh great, now i’m crying again

user16: yeah this is cute and all, but am i the only one getting annoyed at her shading franco constantly

user17: yes there’s literally no reason she needs to be liking those kind of comments

yourusername: chat is it illegal to be excited for and protect my brother?

user18: you can keep franco’s name out of your mouth to do so

yourusername: i’ve never said a bad word about franco, so watch your tone, especially when he hasn’t been the most respectful towards my relationship himself.

user19: omg why is she spilling the tea when it’s 3am in europe 😭

oscarpiastri: two aussies on track at albert park - we love to see it

oscarpiastri: but now i’m thinking about it, why aren’t i sponsored by doohan me?

yourusername: girly i think you have enough sponsors already

jackdoohan: this is the greed they wrote about in the bible…

user20: so jack is a nepo nepo baby?

yourusername: tell me you don’t love your brother without telling me you don’t love your brother

user21: also she literally sponsors alex as well… why wouldn’t she help out the people she loves when she owns the biggest apparel and makeup companies in australia…

alexalbon: i’m chopped liver this weekend…

yourusername: you can be second for one weekend

alexalbon: fine… i’ll hold you to that

yourusername: and i’ll hold you too

alexalbon: oh hehehehehe

georgerussell63: loser

alexalbon

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 672,099 others

tagged: yourusername & jackdoohan

alexalbon: p6? and Q2 for jack? i guess you could say we're doohan okay :P

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user22: doohan/albon family you are so precious to me

user23: this post got me crying in the club at 6am

user24: the way jack RAN to alex in parc ferme was so so so cute i can’t

yourusername: it’s sweat in my eyes i SWEAR

alexalbon: okay baby, we believe you

jackdoohan: i always knew i was your favourite brother

yourusername: you’re the only one?

jackdoohan: omg p1

alexalbon: a win is a win

user25: jack being second of all the rookies is just what he needed this weekend !!!

user26: babe is not playing around

georgerussell63: get in there alex!!!

georgerussell63: but please stay away from my car tomorrow

yourusername: i know this man ain’t talking

georgerussell63: i’m not engaging with this

yourusername: … pussy

alexalbon: when your wife and friend get along

georgerussell63: eh hem * best friend

alexalbon: slow your roll there buddy

georgerussell63: who could possibly be your best friend - and don’t say y/n because that doesn’t count

alexalbon: jack is right there

georgerussell63: i’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that

alexalbon: well the rest of you have hardly made him feel welcome have you?

user27: omg alex is out here gagging the girls

user28: and he ate!

user29: i mean alex was lucky having george and lando when he made his debut, jack has the other rookies but i’ve got the sense he’s been made a bit of an outsider

user30: this whole situation is so sad i’m not going to lie - i’m glad alex is clearly there for him and that y/n goes to like 90% of the races

danielricciardo: flying the aussie flags high boys, proud of you!

jackdoohan: thank you daniel :))))))))

alexalbon: the thai flag is right there… but i’ll take it dude! see you for dinner tomorrow xx

yourusername: we’ll see if we can kidnap oscar and make it a full on aussie affair

alexalbon: i am not aussie !!!

yourusernamel: yes you are

alexalbon: yes i am

user31: how all husbands should be ^^^

f1newsandgossip

liked by user42, user50 and 11,045 others

f1newsandgossip: it’s being reported that both alex albon and max verstappen called a grid meeting to call out the exclusion of jack doohan. insiders state it got extremely heated, with alex albon not holding back.

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user31: i mean…. i have to agree with alex like that dinner was unnecessarily cruel

user32: it’s SO strange that they managed to invite all of the other rookies but not him

user33: if it’s not cruel it’s extremely negligent from the grid

user34: hey wasn’t george on some anti-bully tirade at the end of last season? what happened to that…

user35: he’s the head of the GDPA and likely was the one to organise this meal - he should know better

user36: if george did organise it and alex was as incensed as they say, it was BAD bad

user37: max standing up for jack is so needed thank you

user38: i mean we all know how max was treated as a rookie…

user39: and he was super chatty with jack at the photoshoot so at least he’s tried

user40: more than what some could say

user41: i think it’s crazy that the grid haven’t made an effort with jack considering they are constantly licking y/n’s ass trying to ride her coat tails

user42: SO TRUE

user43: they like the doohans so much that they’ll constantly use and wear her products, making sure to tag her but they can’t invite her brother to dinner?

user44: anyone seen those pictures kym illman posted of y/n on the phone in the paddock?

user45: baby was PISSED

user46: rightly so tbf

user47: the fact that both her and her dad ignored sky this morning >>>

user48: i mean, as they should, all they do is talk about franco when jack is on screen

user49: alex and jack coming in together this morning, both wearing doohan me merch …. kings

user50: the only positive from this meeting/ idk fight is the fact that a load of drivers flocked to alpine

user52: charles bringing leo ???

user53: took too long, but i’m glad they pulled their heads out of their asses

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 2,945,300 others

tagged: jackdoohan

f1: aussies… are you doohan good? jack doohan scored points on his full debut at home, picking up a p9 finish. we don’t think anyone was happier than his sister, but brother in law alex albon was pretty pleased too…

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user54: flavio briatore… come outside… i just want to talk

user55: aussies we be smoking on that briatore pack tonight

user56: y/n’s smug smile at him in the garage was ALL of us

oscarpiastri: aussie aussie aussie

jackdoohan: oi oi oi

oscarpiastri: stoked for you dude honestly

jackdoohan: much appreciated - congrats on the podium!

user57: my aussie boys !!!!!!!!!!

user58: alex holding jack while he cried is the moment of the season already i don’t think we’ll top it

user59: i need it tattooed on the inside of my eyelids for real

user60: the other drivers all coming to congratulate him - better late than never

user61: i honestly think alex was happier for alex than himself even though he got fourth

user62: that’s family right there

yourusername: jack doohan world dominance would bore no one

yourusername: but on a real note, unbelievably proud of you baby brother

jackdoohan: would never have happened without you - i love you <3

alexalbon: nothing but love for my favourite brother in law!

alexalbon: there’s been a lot of chat about him but jack is the real deal

yourusername: my two favourite boys, i love you guys and i’m so proud

user63: jack getting points at home is such poetic justice

user64: i need him to know we love him

user65: i mean other than oscar’s podium his points was defo the biggest cheer of the weekend!

alpinef1: it’s just what he does 🤩

yourusername: and what he’ll continue to do…

user66: the way this is an actual threat LOL

jackdoohan

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 348,208 others

tagged: alexalbon & yourusername

jackdoohan: this weekend has been everything and more for me. to get my first points at home, means the world, and to be supported by my favourite people in the world made it all the more sweeter. y/n, these points are for you, thank you for always supporting me and alex, thank you for being there for me - it’s been lonely but you’ve welcomed me as best as you could. here’s to the rest of the season!

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user66: i am NOT crying

user67: thank the lord for alex albon!

user68: my shaylas

liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1: congratulations jack, the first points of many!

jackdoohan: thank you max, maybe i’ll be able to get close enough to race you personally…

maxverstappen1: hopefully it’s for podiums…

lewishamilton: well in jack! congratulations!

charles_leclerc: congratulations on your first points jack :D

user69: looks like a stern talking to by alex albon works a plenty

user70: we love to see it

alexalbon: mr jack, there’s nothing me or your sister wouldn’t do for you - never hesitate to reach out. we’re so proud of you and will be here for you every step of the way!

yourusername: what he said

yourusername: i love you baby brother and i’m so so proud. i won’t stop saying it until i die

jackdoohan: i love you guys so much

yourusername: also @alexalbon you’re the best husband in the world, looking out for jack. you’re the most amazing man in the world xx

alexalbon: i’d do anything for you and for jack. i love you and i wake up thankful everyday that you decided that i’m worth marrying

yourusername: there’s no one else in the world worth marrying xx

landonorris: @jackdoohan how are you so chill about them professing their love under your congratulations post?

jackdoohan: i love them and i love that they love each other?

user71: i need a relationship like y/n and alex

user72: i need siblings like them omg

isackhadjar: you slayed jack!

kimiantonelli: 🔥

user73: why are we all fawning over the drivers in being in the comment section? it’s clear alex just guilted them into doing it

user74: for real, f1 isn’t a popularity contest it’s about winning

yourusername: jack doesn’t have to be popular, but he will be respected

alexalbon: and if anyone is ‘guilted’ into being a nice person, that’s their issue

jackdoohan: :3

fin.

note: she's back? she's also been up since 3am to watch the f2 so enjoy my sleep deprived fuelled love for alex (let's go p6????) and jack (because seriously, give him a shot god damn)!!!

[sofiatarot]

PAC: Whispers from your future spouse’s soul: a message your heart needs to hear

TIP JAR - FREE READINGS - PAID READINGS

Sometimes we miss someone we've never met

1->2

3->4

Group 1:

My love, I know how hard it’s been for you to keep standing tall when the world feels like it’s crumbling around you. You’ve carried so much responsibility, always striving to maintain control and stability even when chaos surrounds you. I see your strength, and I admire it more than you could ever know. But I want you to know it’s okay to let your guard down with me. You don’t have to be the one holding everything together all the time. I’ll be your steady foundation when the storms come.

You’ve been going through transformations that feel heavy, almost unbearable, but trust me when I say you’re shedding the old to make room for the new. I want you to look at these changes not as endings, but as doors opening to a brighter, more secure future for us. There’s a seed of something beautiful sprouting in the cracks of your old life—trust it. I’ll be here to nurture it with you.

I know there have been moments where you’ve felt like giving up, where your efforts seemed wasted. But don’t let those doubts consume you, my love. All the work you’ve put in, all the pain you’ve endured, it’s leading you somewhere incredible. I see you as a creator, even in moments when you feel lost. Together, we’ll turn those fragments of hope into something solid.

There’s something you’ve been avoiding, a decision or a truth you don’t want to face. I see you hesitate, afraid of what might happen if you choose. But I want you to know that you are stronger than the fear that holds you back. Whatever you decide, I’ll be beside you, ready to catch you if you fall. You don’t have to figure it all out alone.

When your world feels like it’s falling apart, remember this: sometimes destruction is necessary for rebirth. You are rising from the ashes of what once was, becoming the person you’re meant to be. And when you look around and feel lost, know that I’m here, already searching for you, ready to hold you when we finally meet.

Group 2:

My dearest, I feel your frustration and your impatience. You’re caught in a cycle that feels endless, like no matter what you do, things just won’t fall into place. But please, don’t lose hope. You’re not stuck—you’re learning. Every step, even the ones that feel like missteps, is shaping you into the person you’re meant to be. And I want you to know that I’m so proud of how hard you’re trying, even when you can’t see the results.

There’s chaos around you, and I know it feels overwhelming. It’s like you’re juggling too much at once, trying to keep everything balanced, but it’s okay to let some things go. You don’t have to do it all alone. I’m coming, and when I do, I’ll help you carry the weight. Until then, please don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing better than you think.

I sense that you’ve been questioning yourself, your intuition, your path. You’ve doubted your own wisdom, wondering if you’re making the right choices. But trust me when I say that deep down, you already know what’s best for you. You don’t have to second-guess yourself so much. You’re more capable than you realize.

The wheel may look like it's not turning in your favor right now, but this isn’t the end. Life isn’t a straight path; it’s full of twists and turns, and sometimes we have to lose our way to find it again. I believe in you, in your strength to keep going even when the road is unclear. And when we finally meet, I’ll remind you every day of how far you’ve come.

You’re a fighter, my love, even when you feel like you’re losing the battle. Your resilience is one of the many reasons I’m drawn to you. Hold on to that fire inside you, and don’t let the world dim it. I’m here, waiting for the day I get to tell you all this in person, and I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.

(IM SO HAPPY THIS ONE CAME OUT FOR YOU it's one of my fav songs 🤧)

Group 3:

My love, you’ve been feeling like your efforts aren’t paying off, like no matter how hard you try, it’s never enough. But I see your heart, your determination, and I want you to know that it’s not in vain. Every step you take is bringing us closer together, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now. Trust the process, because I already see the beautiful life we’re going to build together.

I know you’ve been hurt before, and it’s made you cautious, maybe even a little guarded. But you’re learning to trust again, to let go of the fears that once held you back. I see you opening up, little by little, and it’s one of the most beautiful things about you. When we meet, I’ll make sure you never have to question my loyalty or my love.

You’ve been moving so quickly, chasing your dreams, your goals, and sometimes forgetting to take a moment to breathe. I admire your drive, but I want you to remember that it’s okay to slow down. Life isn’t a race, and we have all the time in the world to create something amazing together.

You’re surrounded by love, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. Your friends, your family, they see the light in you that I see. Celebrate those connections, because they’re a reflection of the joy you bring to the world. And when I finally step into your life, I know we’ll create a bond just as unbreakable.

You’re on the brink of something incredible, my love. A new chapter is waiting for you, full of opportunities and second chances. Trust yourself, and trust that the universe is guiding us to each other. I can’t wait to meet you and tell you all the things I’ve been holding in my heart.

Group 4:

My dearest, I know how much you’ve been searching for answers, for guidance, for something to hold onto. You’ve been so strong, navigating the challenges life has thrown at you, but I see the exhaustion in your soul. You don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’ll be here to support you, to guide you, and to remind you of the beauty in your strength.

You’ve been feeling stuck, like no matter what you do, you can’t move forward. But I want you to know that this is just a pause, not an end. Sometimes we need to step back to see the bigger picture, to understand what truly matters. Take this time to rest, to heal, and to prepare for the incredible journey ahead.

You’ve faced heartbreak, betrayal, and disappointment, but you’ve never let it define you. That resilience, that ability to keep going even when it hurts, is one of the things I love most about you. I promise to honor that strength, to never be the source of your pain, but the one who helps you heal.

There’s a part of you that’s afraid to let go of the past, to move on from what’s familiar, even if it no longer serves you. But I see your potential, your ability to rise above it all. Trust me when I say that the future holds so much more for you than you could ever imagine.

When we finally meet, I’ll show you what it means to be truly loved, to feel safe and cherished. I’ll be your partner in every sense of the word, and together, we’ll create a life filled with love, passion, and endless possibilities. Until then, know that I’m already loving you from afar, cheering you on as you take each step closer to me.

xoxo🌙

[777nicetits]

She leaned back on her chair, legs coming up to her chest as the robotic voice read the most recent donation out loud.

makegatoradethicker sent $10

how is living with schlatt like?

The girl had a sweet smile on her face as she heard the TTS go off. "Thank you for the ten dollars!" She looked up at the camera. "How is living with Schlatt like?" She repeated the question, taking a moment to think about it. "It's pretty nice. He's pretty chill. Jambo and the little guy are definitely the best part of it though."

Her eyes went off to her second monitor, hugging her legs as she read chat.

🜲 brinzioo tell us moreeeee

harriscamm thats it???

🜲 ✪ joliieeee no fun!!!! tell us the teeeaaaa

“The tea? There’s no tea.” She laughed it off. “Okay, I’ll tell you guys this. I…” She paused for a second or two, for the dramatics of it, “Have been on a mission recently. I’ve been trying to make Schlatt eat more vegetables and fruits.”

She chuckled, watching as her chat laughed along with her.

“I already got him to try some little carrot snacks. Which were like, carrot slices with some honey, some chili pepper sprinkled on it and a side of Brazilian style seasoned mayonnaise.” She lifted her right hand closer to the camera, thumb up. “He really liked it! He ate like a full bowl. And, uh, yesterday for dinner I tried a new hidden chicken recipe that my mom sent me and, I don’t think he knows that,” she snickered, hand coming up to her mouth, “There was some broccoli in there, and he ate it all. So,” she shrugged, her lips turning into a straight line, “A win is a win, I guess.”

🜲 ✪ joliieeee omg girl 😭 you make it sound like he’s a little toddler

She laughed loudly at the comment, reading it out loud for the whole stream. “Honestly? He kinda gets my maternal instincts acting up sometimes. Like, he’s not stupid, but sometimes he’ll do something or say something and I’ll be like… ‘My brother in Christ, how’d you get this far?’”

chiklittle schlatt himbo comfirmed?????

🜲 chiquitamalassa KEKW

🜲 christiantryhard did bro just get sonzoned????

✪ jajajeny that is an insane sentence u just said KEKW

🜲 ☯︎︎ ♐︎ ✪ candidcandance when he makes ur maternal instincts act up >>>>

She was having the time of her life reading her chat. The second those words left her mouth she knew it’d get clipped, twitter is about to have a field day with this one.

“Okay guys, enough, enough. He’s gonna be so mad at me, you guys will have me kicked out.”

🜲 ☯︎︎ ♐︎ ✪ candidcandance he’d never kick you out bc that means he’ll have to go back to taking care of himself on his own

That made her chuckle, but her smile was quick to fade once the TTS went off once again.

jschlatt donated $100

I can’t believe you put broccoli in my food, mommy. I’ve

never felt so betrayed in my whole life.

She faced the camera, making direct eye contact with the lens as she tried her best to keep a straight face, failing miserably. She didn’t even wanted to look at chat right now. And even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to make anything out by how fast it was going.

“Mods, ban this weirdo!”

tried something here, ngl i really like it.

[babextoken]

♡ Let’s Fuck Her Up ♡

There’s nothing wrong with an innocent game of truth or dare among roommates…unless they’re two guys who seem to have massive crushes on you and each other.

Vessel x IV x F!Reader

Smut, M/M/F threesome, Bi!Token, praise, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, finger sucking, some spanking, reader is yanked around like a fleshlight, p in v (pretend we talked about birth control prior), and they were roommates

A/N: a ✨ beloved mutual ✨ once said “hey what about a truth or dare fic” and then I was struck by lightning in Best Buy with this idea. Also I took to just naming them Ves and Ivy in this for my mental health.

You’re laying on the couch. Mindlessly scrolling. Completely zoned out from whatever Ves and Ivy are talking about. 20 minutes ago it was all “yeah let’s go out oi oi” and all that but no one had any good ideas. Well. You did! But of course, the “boys club” always overruled you. You knew there were risks involved rooming with two guy best friends—either they treated you like a helpless little girl that needed defending and items retrieved from high spots or like you were the neighborhood girl their respective parents had guilted them into inviting. Suddenly, you hear your name and a snap.

“What?! Jesus.” You say rolling your eyes as Ivy tries to get your attention.

“I asked you something…”

“She’s checked out, man,” Ves says chuckling.

“Yeah yeah, fine. I’ll ask again. Truth or dare?” Ivy asks with his elbows on his knees as he leans forward on the loveseat across from you. Ves shakes his head and stifles a laugh, whispering “you wanker” in reference to Ivy’s mischievous grin.

You snort and decide to play along just to prove how stupid of an idea this is. How old are we?

“Fine. Truth.”

Ivy taps his chin as if he doesn’t already have a question in mind. “Which of us is the best looking?”

“Me. Easy.” You say straightfaced. It’s incredibly satisfying to watch Ivy’s shit-eating grin melt into a scowl. Ves pats him on the back as if to say “there there big guy.”

“Well…ok…but…” Ivy sputters.

“You actually disagree with her, Ivy?”

“What? No, I mean, come on…apples…apples and oranges mate.”

“So why’d you ask her? That’s literally the same question you asked her.” Ves asks with an exasperated laugh, flailing his arm a bit.

You’re watching them banter and the same suspicion creeps up in the back of your mind. There’s something more there. Maybe. The way they look at each other. The little nudges. That’s not just chemistry…that’s not just…being playful.

“Boys boys boys,” you interrupt. They both look at you. “Ves…truth or dare?”

The taller man blushes a little. Maybe he didn’t actually want to play this game and thought Ivy was being a prick. Maybe he just couldn’t believe you were playing along. He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “Dare.”

You catch Ivy’s eye and realize you’re both chuckling at Ves’s willingness to take on a dare. A tiny moment. Another one of those times where you think, “is this something?”

“Alright…I dare you toooooo…hmm…read us your most recent sexts.” You laugh but the boys don’t. You expected Ves’s reaction—rolling his eyes and rubbing his temples—but you didn’t expect Ivy’s blush. Or him fidgeting a little. “Uhm…”

Ves shrugs. “I don’t sext.”

“Oh. Well…”

He snorts. “I’m fucking with you.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket as Ivy watches him with great interest. What is this? There has to be something going on. He unlocks his phone and scrolls a bit. “Ok…it says…” he scrolls some

more, “it says ‘you should have your lips around me instead.” And with that he locks the phone and puts it back in his pocket. He looks over at Ivy as if he’s sizing him up. You feel like you shouldn’t be here.

“Truth or Dare, Ive?”

Ivy rolls his eyes as if the game he decided they should play is the stupidest thing ever. “Truth, I guess.”

Ves responds immediately. “Tell her what you said about the last guy she brought over.”

Oop. Ivy’s eyebrows furrow, and you feel your stomach drop a bit. The last guy you had over was pretty sweet but didn’t seem quick to move forward. You still talk to him and go out sometime.

Ivy pinches the bridge of his nose and answers. He knows he needs to be a good sport for his own game.

“I said he was a loser.”

“And?”

Ivy groans. “And a simp.”

“What’s wrong with being a simp?” You ask with play seriousness.

“You need someone who doesn’t have to be pathetic to get your attention. Not some lost idiot.”

You laugh with a scoff. “Takes one to know one?”

Ivy throws a small pillow in your general direction and you toss it back when it falls near you. He dodges it and grabs the pillow Ves had been holding. He’s ready to start a pillow fight as you shriek and giggle as he comes toward you when Ves says “alright alright, Ivy it’s your turn.” Ivy lands a soft thump of the pillow against your side before sitting by Ves again.

“Fine. Sour puss. Alright princess, truth or dare?”

Your cheeks are still warm from the silliness and adrenaline. You gather your nerves and…

“Dare.”

Ivy nods and thinks for a second before looking back at Ves. Some unspoken boy conversation going on between them.

“Let us guess what color panties you have on. If neither of us can, you get bragging rights. If one of us guesses correctly…you have to prove it.”

Both men are looking at you like your word is law. They’re hanging on the edge on your every word. Waiting. Like good boys. Wait no stop that. You sigh and stand up, doing a little twirl. “Alright, do your worst.”

“Black” they both blurt out, straightfaced.

Fuck. You shouldn’t be surprised but here you are scoffing and rolling your eyes. You loop your thumbs under your shorts and pull them down enough to let them see your black boyshorts. “Congrats on guessing one of the most common underwear colors. Alright. Ivy. Truth or dare?”

“But it’s my turn!” Ves interjects.

“Dare.” Ivy snaps back calmly. The tension is building.

“Give Ves a little kiss.”

There’s a lengthy, heavy pause. Ivy huffs out a little laugh. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Ivy and Ves lean towards each other and you feel a pulse deep deep inside you. Ves crooks his finger under Ivy’s chin as their lips meet. Seconds feel like an eternity. Ivy cups Ves’s face and gently caresses the taller man’s cheekbone with his thump. Your breath catches in uncomfortable shock but your synapses are firing like crazy. They’ve done this before. And it’s so hot. It is so clear just how into each other they are as one kiss ends and Ivy immediately initiates another. At one point Ves gently bites Ivy’s bottom lip, and Ivy chuckles as he pushes Ves back a little. Not out of disgust…but more like “not here, not now at least”

Ivy looks at you as he runs his fingers through his blonde hair and licks his lips. You barely register that you’ve actually slipped off your shorts while watching your roommates make out. “You cool doing a dare,” he asks, nodding up at you.

You nod wordlessly. Your breath is coming heavier.

“Good girl. I dare you…”

He looks at Ves but his eyes are taking in every single inch of your body. Ivy lets out a dry chuckle and looks back to saying, “I dare you to sit in Ves’s lap.”

You look at Ves for some kind of reassurance or “gotcha” reaction, but instead he beckons you forward and pats his lap. As if in a trance you walk towards him and shyly straddle his lap. His hands gently tug you by the hips.

“There she is…” Ves whispers as he looks up at you and moves your hair off your shoulders. Ivy scoots closer and puts his arm around Ves.

“Look at her on your thighs…” Ivy says without breaking his gaze from your body.

“I know. Like an angel.”

“Mm like a queen.”

“Ah…yeah…a queen. On her throne. Aren’t you?”

You know you look dumb right now because you feel dumb. “Wha-…”

They both giggle at your adorable confusion. Ivy starts toying with the strap of your tank top as Ves kneads your hips and love handles. Ves lets his head rest back on the couch as his hands go under your shirt.

“Is it ok if he does that, babes” Ivy asks softly as he brushes your hair behind your ears before pulling down your tank strap.

You nod, “…yeah. I…I like it.”

“Good. I do, too” Ves says as he lifts your shirt a little. You instinctively suck in your stomach but both guys protest. Ivy caresses your tummy with his fingertips and hums happily. “She’s too cute,” Ves says as he lets one of his hands drift up to cup your face. His thumb rubs over your lips, and your tongue pokes out to touch it. You taste his skin as his long thumb presses past your lips. You let out a small moan which elicits reverent coos and sighs from the guys.

“You like how he tastes, princess?” Ivy asks as his hands smooth over your back and ass. He leans close to your ear… “you should really try his cock. If you like his thumb that much…” he plants tiny kisses on your neck… “then imagine how wet you’ll get when you’re deep throating him.”

You moan and move your head to kiss Ivy. His plump lips press against you in the most delicious yet agonizingly tender way. Ves moans as he watches and circles your nipple under your tank with his thumb…still wet from playing with your tongue. Ivy palms your other breast through your tank top as you grasp at his thick, delicious body. He moans gently and relishes in finally…finally kissing you. You’ve always thought he was sweet and gentle. Listening to you vent, ruffling your hair when you’re being silly or even when he’s proud. So kissing him was like coming home. A hug.

Ves’s free hand trails up Ivy’s chest and rests at his neck. You pull away reluctantly from your friend’s lips…only to lean down and kiss your other friend.

If kissing Ivy was tender and soft, kissing Ves was frantic and needy. Between the two of them, you’ve felt the most sexual tension with Ves. You often end up spending a lot of alone time together. Just scrolling or watching something mindless. It’s not that you don’t talk…it’s comfortable silence. And glances. So many stolen glances. But now he’s holding your hips tight and pressing you against his toned body like you might disappear. Ivy groans softly as he watches you two, his lovers.

“She’s sweet, isn’t she, babe?” Ivy whispers to Ves as you feel your shirt being going over your head.

Ves pulls back from the kiss to get your shirt off and bites his lip as he ogles your chest. “Like fucking sugar,” he says breathlessly. He pulls you close and licks a long line up up your chest, making you moan with your head back. Ivy turns your face to him and nuzzles your nose with his as Ves starts kissing and sucking at your tits.

“Ivy…mm..please…” you whimper…willing him to touch you.

“Use your words, sugar,” Ves growls, “tell Ivy what you want. You’ll love it…he’ll make you feel so good.”

Ivy chuckles as you tug at his hand. “Touch me…please…I need you…” you groan… “take care of me.”

Both Ves and Ivy make cute satisfied little sounds as Ivy’s thick fingers slide under your boyshorts. You gasp as he finds your clit and blush with embarrassment at just how good it feels to have him touch you as Ves sucks your nipples. Your fingers tangle in Ves’s hair and your teeth clench as Ivy moves to trace your slit. You sit up a little to give him more room but the angle is weird…and you’ve never had two men pawing at you before. You’ve never been shared. The pad of Ivy’s middle finger playfully taps at your entrance. This whole time he’s been kissing and nipping at your neck but now he moves his lips to your ear.

“You’re a needy girl, aren’t you? You like doing this, hm? Being in the center of attention?” He whispers as he ghosts over your clit again. You whimper as he pulls his coated fingers from your folds. “Fuck she’s hot. Ves…”

Ves briefly looks up and quickly pulls away from your breast when Ivy offers him his finger. You watch as Ivy traces his finger around Ves’s lips before Ves takes the finger into his mouth. He takes a sharp breath and moans as he holds Ivy’s hand steady as your essence off him. God you want to just stare. Seeing the way Ves looks up with eager eyes and the way Ivy just lets him clean his fingers breaks your brain. You feel like a chained up bitch in heat. You want to play. You want to be your normal, slutty enthusiastic self…to show them what you can do…how you can make them feel. But you feel intimidated. Sensing your discomfort, Ves pulls you close. When he disengages from Ivy’s hand, he buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent and biting you gently.

“It’s a bit much, yeah? A lot to take in,” Ves says softly as he trails kisses on your collarbone. “Do you want to keep going?”

You can barely think. On one hand you have no idea what this means for the dynamic afterwards, on the other…if you don’t cum tonight you might actually combust. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

You feel Ivy pulling you off Ves’s lap and against his nude torso. You were so wrapped up in Ves marking you that you didn’t hear Ivy get undressed. He pulls you down to the floor and lays you down. You look up and see Ves slipping off his tshirt before laying beside you.

“He’s going to take such good care of you, sugar,” Ves says almost teasingly as he kisses your temple. “You’re gonna cum all over Ivy’s fingers and pretty face.”

Ves’s hand slides down to your now bare pussy and gently circles your clit before carefully spreading your lips to give Ivy better access.

“Fuck…Ves…”

“Ah Ves you should see how her pussy clenches when you touch her. Fuck you’re getting her ready for me” Ivy says right against your clit. He flicks his tongue sharply against it, making you jolt. Ves responds by kissing your cheeks and cooing words of praise.

“Yeah he’s good with his tongue, huh, babygirl? Do you like what he’s doing?”

You feel your pussy quiver against Ivy’s face as he alternates between licking and sucking your clit. Ivy reaches up to play with your tits. Ves caresses Ivy’s arm as your nipple is lightly pinched. You moan and try to lift your head to kiss Ves…or get his attention at least. His eyes are glued to your slick cunt and the gorgeous man eating it out. Ivy must be looking back because you see Ves blow a little kiss before he turns his attention to you. You reach up to him and finally get to m pull him in for a sweet kiss. Ivy moans into your pussy and adds two fingers. As he rubs your sensitive bundle from the inside you break the kiss and moan against Ves’s lips.

“Ves…Ivy…I…I…don’t—“

Ivy stops when he hears this. Both men are concerned about you when you whimper like that. Ivy lays atop you, his still clothed bulge pressing against your hot cunt.

“I don’t…know how to cum unless I do it myself.” You say blushing profusely. “It’s not that easy for me to just…let go.”

Ves pets your hair as Ivy softly kisses your collarbone. “Then you call the shots, love. What do you need? What would you like?” Ivy asks softly before he gently teeths your ear lobe.

“I need to get fucked.”

Ivy and Ves share a pleasantly surprised look. They thought for sure you’d say you needed a breather but here you were asking to be dicked down by your two closest guy friends. Ves leans in to kiss Ivy before whispering “you’re already on top of her…you go first, handsome.”

Your pussy throbs watching them kiss right in front of you. Ivy cradles Ves’s face so tenderly you feel like you’re intruding, but you quickly feel apart of the moment when Ivy begins tracing lazy circles on your tummy. Ves’s kisses trail down Ivy’s cheek to his neck, and you take the opportunity to sit up. Shyly, you reach out and touch Ivy’s bulge through his shorts. He lets out a sharp moan as you stroke the length. It’s thick, and you can already imagine the stretch that would come from taking it completely. Ivy gently pushes your hand away.

“You’re too good at that, babe. Mm slow down.”

You chuckle softly and start kissing the other side of Ivy’s neck. He groans whinly. “Oh fuck you both…mm…‘snot fair.” Ves chuckles and moves his kisses to your cheeks. “Yeah there we go. Let’s pick on our girl” Ivy says as he dive bombs the other side of your neck. You squirm and moan as they both kiss, suck, and bite at your neck. Ves moves to you close to him as he lays back on the floor. You’re positioned like you’re going to ride him but you hear Ivy taking his shorts off behind you.

“Ivy’s going to fuck you now…yeah? Can you handle that for us, baby?”

You swallow hard and whimper as your feel the head of Ivy’s cock tease your entrance.

“She wants it, Ves. You should feel it.”

“Oh yeah,” Ves asks with a bemused expression as his unceremoniously reaches down and fingers you.” Mmm. Yeah…you are awfully wet…and you’re practically trying to suck my fingers in.”

Ves removes his fingers but you don’t feel empty for long. Ivy presses against your pussy and presses in with delicious restraint. He’s big and you’re tight. It’s been a little since you’ve been fucked from behind so it takes a second for you to regain some brain power after Ivy’s cock finally caresses your gspot. You feel yourself clench on him and a gentle spank.

“She’s gonna make me lose it, Ves. She’s so tight.”

“Mm yeah? She gonna milk you dry?”

You moan and try to relax but it’s hard when they talk about you like you’re not here. How they praise you and flirt with each other.

“If I’m not careful, yeah…she just might.” Ivy spanks you again. “You’re gonna love her Ves…well…love her more.”

Your brain feels fuzzy as you look down at Ves as holds your hips still for Ivy. Ivy starts rolling his hips into you…the stretch and friction is incredible. You feel like you’re on fire and itching an in impossible scratch.

“Mm. Such a good girl. We just love you…don’t we Ive?” Ves asks as he stares up at you. Ivy can’t answer the question directly.

“God…fuck…finally…finally…such a good girl…fucking love you, babygirl.”

You cry out as you press against Ivy for a deeper fuck. “I…love you…Ivy…fuck…aaahh GOD baby.” Your climax ripples through you as he keeps you in place for his boyfriend. “Fuck. FUCK. I love you both.”

Ivy’s breath hitches and he grabs for Ves’s hand. Ves looks up at you sweetly and says, “Ivy’s gonna cum inside you. Ok? Such a good girl to take his cum. And then…I’m going to fuck his cum and my cum so deep in you that you won’t sit right tomorrow. And we’ll have to take care of you…sweet princess. Someone will have to kiss that pretty pussy better when we’re done. Would you like that? For your boys to take care of you and pamper you all day? All the fingers and cocks and…”

“Shut up Ves…I’m not gonna last long if you don’t…fuck…hnng.” Ivy desperately fucks into you. He’s holding back, you can tell. The pace is measured and careful…and so fucking hot. Ves winks and flashes a wicked grin.

“I’m just having a conversation with our girl. That’s all…” Ves starts moves hands to your breasts and presses hot, wet kisses on each one. You feel another orgasm clench Ivy’s cock.

“Ivy! You’re so….fucking big….” You cry out as you become overstimulated.

“Nah baby…fuck…fuck…you’re fucking right…god Ves, she’s so tight. You’re gonna love it….”

“Ivy cum for me…please,” you beg. Your confidence is growing, and since Ves isn’t holding your hips anymore, you fuck Ivy right back. You feel his wide hand press into the middle of your back, making you fall against Ves. Ivy cries out your name and moans out in whines as he coats your womb with his cum. Your pussy clenches hard like it’s desperate for more.

Ves breathes heavily after holding you as Ivy fucked you and made you his for the moment. “I don’t know if I’ll last long,” he says pathetically. “You two are so hot together.”

Ivy pulls out of you and comes to your side. You two share a deep kiss and stare into each others eyes for a bit.

“You’re so good,” you whisper to him.

“That’s you, girl.” He gives him a quick kiss. “Now let’s play with Ves.” Ivy pats you to get off Ves and he tells Ves to sit on the couch. Ves obeys and takes off his sweats. His cock is hard and twitching for both of you. He sits on the couch, and you straddle him once again. Ivy guides your hips and sets you down on Ves’s cock…slowly…slowly…slowly…

You moan and whimper as you’re stretched once again. Ivy was definitely thicker, but Ves had length and a slight bend that felt so yummy inside you.

“Fffuuuuccckk…Ves…baby…” your voice is barely coming out.

“Move her,” Ves whispers to Ivy as he plays with your nipples.

“Alright…work with me, babygirl, yeah? You want him to bust for your pussy?” Ivy whispers huskily from behind you as he starts to move your hips up and down. He has you bouncing on Ves’s cock…he’s in control. Ves’s fingers press roughly into your plush hips so hard you can feel the bruises blossoming.

“God you’re so perfect…such a fucking queen…” Ves whispers as he pulls you close for warm, desperate kisses. “Ivy…Ivy…I need to fuck her.”

Ivy lets go of your hips, and Ves immediately repositions so he can fuck up into you. Ivy has to cover your mouth as the most obscene moans and whimpers leave your pretty lips.

“You’re gonna be mine, too, baby. You’re gonna be so full from me and Ivy. So much love in your pussy…such a good…fucking…fuck….FUCK.” Ves cums inside you and keeps fucking through his climax. You both and breathing heavily…like you might hyperventilate. Ivy helps you off Ves’s lap and sits you on the couch between them. Ivy clings to your back as Ves moves to hug you. You turn your head as the two men press needy kisses on you, letting it become a slow, sensual kiss between the three of you.

[skteezcursed]

❝greedy little darlin❞ — p.sh.

PAIRING. frat!park seonghwa x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. dom!seonghwa. switch!sub!reader. university au. frat members ateez. sex talk (among adults). drinking (not too much, but just enough). pet names (mostly darling, reader is called slut once, good girl and handsome, prob more but i cant remember now). blowjob. hair pulling. cunnilingus. tongue fucking. over stimulation. sex with a condom (please remember to do that irl). light chocking. three? slaps on the ass. not proof read. i guess that's all, lmk if i forgot something.

SYNOPSIS. everyone knew you and Seonghwa were into each other, your friends even places a bet on when that would happen, although it never did. until he gets tired of your antics and decides to put you in your place.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. ~5,6k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateez frat boys (that i will still make so give me a moment) and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. shout out to @bro-atz for helping coming up with the idea for this, and to @seulrinnie-rinrin for betaing part of this. hopefully this is me leaving my slump so yeah, bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

Nothing was ever simple with Seonghwa. 

Ever since the beginning, it was as if something was pulling you two closer and closer, the tension growing at each encounter. At first, everyone thought it was because you two didn’t know each other, the thing is that, after you met, the tension didn’t falter, it actually increased exponentially, to the point where your friends were making bets as to when and who would break first. 

Park Seonghwa is the type of guy that makes you question everything. Because how can a man be so drop dead gorgeous with minimum to no effort? How can he look the squishiest human being with those adorable boba eyes, but also have the devilish look on his face when his eyes became siren and the smirk in present, making you question if you should really keep that line between friends high, blocking your passage, blocking you to reach his collar and kiss him like you need oxygen, to feel his marvelous tongue in between your folds, his hair in between your fingers as he -

“Earth to (y/n), you there?”

“Yeah, yeah sorry,” you looked around your friends with an apologetic look before focusing on the food in front of you, sighing. “What are we talking about again?”

“Damn, you truly dozed off,” the chuckle Mingi gave, was followed by some of the others as San just turned to you with that sweet smile of his, the dimples present, a reminder he too, was holding back a laugh. 

“Since midterms are over, we were planning on having a little get together at the frat, no big party, just a few drink with friends, it’s not like any of us have time to organize it anyways,” you nodded taking another bite of your food, the movement being noticed by San who exchanged glances with the others. “So, can we count you on?”

“Don’t you consider me a friend, Sannie?” Everyone laughed as you leaned to kiss San’s cheek, apologizing. “I’ll be there, just let me know when.”

  “We are all gonna be there, by the way,” the knowing smile that Wooyoung sent your way, made you want to push his face against his plate, “in case you want to dress up.”

  “Why would I dress up to a get together with you guys?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because Hwa is gonna be there.”

“And you have a huge crush on him,” Jongho continued Yunho’s line and you could see Yeosang opening his mouth.

“And let's not forget the sexual tension there is!”

“You two should honestly just fuck already and end everyone’s suffering at this point.”

“What the fuck you guys talking about, and another word from you,” you pointed at Wooyoung who had made the last remark, “and I’ll shove your face against the plate!”

“Oh, kinky, should we let Hwa know?”

Yunho commented and all the boys bursted into laughter as all you wanted was to be buried six feet under. 

  Of course you had a crush on Seonghwa. Of course whenever you two were together there was this small flirtatious situation, and the sexual tension was definitely high whenever you two were close in a room, but that didn’t mean anything. 

“I’m sure he’ll cave in soon and fuck you,” San’s words brought you back, making you eye him slightly shocked. “What? He thinks you are hot, he even said it to us the first time you two met, but I also don’t know why he hasn't done shit.”

“Because he likes to play with his food before eating it.”

Wooyoung jumped from the table the same second he finished his sentence already running from you trying to slap him, making everyone at the table and around you seven to laugh at the situation.

“I’ll fucking end you, Jung Wooyoung!”

  You dolled up, he knew you would.

  You always did whenever you two were to meet, only to be even more irresistible in his eyes. The fact that his brother’s from the fraternity knew how badly he wanted you, didn’t help as they would always create situations for the two of you to get close. Not that neither bothered to argue. Seonghwa had tried to reason with the younger ones, but as soon as he realized you didn’t really care, even indulged whenever it happened, made him decide to test how far you were willing to go.

  As if you knew about it, you played along. 

You accepted his drinks, laughed at his jokes, shiver under his touch, lean towards him when he was close. Yet, you would also pull your own strings. You knew he wouldn’t be jealous, you noticed on the first few tries on how he simply would smile or laugh at your useless attempts at making him feel anything when you were with someone else, which was not the case when he was the one trying to make you jealous, even if unintentionally. 

So you changed your methods. From revealing clothes and trying to make him jealous, you simply decided to make yourself present, being there if needed, and flee if that was not the case, you stopped trying to get his attention, deciding to enjoy your time and maybe, just maybe, get with someone to alleviate the ache between your thighs whenever Seonghwa got too handsy with you before leaving you high and dry.

  ATZ frat was known, as any other house on the Greek Road, to be just to mess around, never to create a relationship. Although you knew Wooyoung since you were kids, you knew that to be true whenever you and the other boys would get together, even San who appeared to be the one who leans mostly towards dating, would fuck around from time to time. The odds weren’t in your favor, so you decided to brush it off, to have fun with your friends, to go to their frat from time to time, and that was when your ‘relationship’ with Seonghwa started to change. 

Both of you knew that this was never going forward. The moment you realized that, it was like something shifted in him, he started to go towards you whenever you met, regardless if it was at the frat or not. You knew that didn’t mean he was going to accept your advances, especially after you found out Hongjoong had established a rule that family and close friends from the members were off limits after a complicated situation happened a few weeks back and that you were highly aware of.

  “So, you guys actually decided to throw a low profile party, hm? That’s a first,” you comment as Seonghwa opened the door and took a step back to let you in the frat before taking your jacket off, which he quickly took it in his hands as he closed the door. “Is anyone else coming?”

  You asked, looking around, trying to see anyone, but the house looked rather empty. “I don’t know, but the main entertainment has finally arrived,” he purred against your ear, making you shiver as you smirked, keeping your composure. “Care for something to drink?”

  “Sure, I’ll have whatever you are having,” you answer quickly, trying to brush off the shiver as you follow him towards the kitchen. “Heard it was a get together with friends… Was kind of expecting more people, if I’m honest.”

  “Anyone in particular?” Seonghwa asked as he handed you a bottle of soju, clacking the bottles before bringing it to his lips, predatory eyes scanning your face. “Or are you asking to be sure you will be the only one here?”

  As he took a step closer to you, you changed the weight of your foot before bringing the soju bottle to your own lips. “No one in particular, and we both know I don't mind sharing attention.”

  Your eyes wandered across his face, lingering on his smirk before your fingers played with the necklace that hung low on his sheer shirt, the small opening where the necklace hang allowing your fingers to brush along the skin, as you noticed the smirk on Seonghwa’s lips grow slightly, his tongue poking out before you move away from him with a smirk.

  “C’mon man, a hundred!”

  “Fuck off Wooyoung, I’m not joining,” Mingi said pushing Wooyoung slightly chuckling as both their eyes landed on you, “it will be just another night and you know it, you will lose money.”

  “So why you scared of betting?” 

  Wooyoung smirked at Mingi with raised eyebrows. “What you two up to, this time?”

  “Betting if you and Hwa finally give in and fuck,” Wooyoung says bluntly making you scoff as you took another sip of your drink as you watch Seonghwa from afar talking to a few other people. “I’m betting it will, but the others are sure it’s just another night where you two keep with your cat and mouse game.”

  “He knows I’m down, it’s in his lane,” you chuckle at Wooyoung’s words as you finish your drink. “I’m getting another bottle, do you guys want it?”

  Both denied as Wooyoung continued to patronize Mingi, making you shake your head as you moved past Seonghwa, a little too close for comfort as your hand brush on his ass and you notice his eyes fall on you as you kept going to the kitchen, giving him a smirk as you open the fridge to get another bottle of soju.

  “That’s your fourth bottle,” you hear Seonghwa’s voice, seeing him eye you from the counter, the bottle on his hands half empty, “shouldn’t you slow down?”

  “Oh, is the mighty Park Seonghwa worried about me?” You smirk as you choose your bottle, opening as you eyed him. “That’s adorable, and I would actually believe it if it was a different scenario…”

  “Why do you think I’m not?” 

  His eyes followed your form as you walked towards him, his hand instinctively finding your hip pressing it lightly, as he noticed your breath hitch as the bottle met your lips. 

  “Because we are at a party, a chill one, where nothing major is gonna happen…” Your eyes followed down to his sheer shirt, nails tracing down, touching his skin and abs over the shirt as you reached his pants, fingers vagally there before it went to the hook of the pants. “And I’m getting bored.”

  His hand on your hips pressed, making you bite your lip as he took a step closer, his lips hovering over yours as his eyes studied every reaction. “So you intend to get drunk?”

  “It’s not a solution, but it’s a possibility,” you say as your body gets closer to him, the freaking magnetic relationship you had whenever you two were together. “You have pretty friends…”

  Your eyes avert for the people behind Seonghwa, who follows your eyes as it lands on some of his colleagues and friends before reaching yours with a small knowing smirk. 

  “I don’t think they are available…”

  “Funny, because some of them already engaged in a few conversations with me,” you chuckle watching him, as one of your fingers extended and touched near his crotch area lightly, “and i can’t say I’m not interested in what they have to say…”

  “Then have your fun with them, I’ll be waiting to hear about it later,” he hinted with raised eyebrows to you as his bottle reached his lips, his eyes never leaving you. 

  “Oh, so they are the kiss and tell type…” You murmur looking at his friends once more. “Might as well prepare for a performance then.”

  “You wouldn’t need to if they knew what they were doing,” his eyes burned on you, as a smirk played on his lips, his hand pulling you as it reached your lower back, pressing you against his, against the bulge in his pants. His lips brushed against your ear, “but hey, if you are gonna fake better put on a memorable show, which I’m sure you are more than capable of doing.”

  “I always do,” your voice sounded steady but your body was betraying you, as usual. “Wouldn’t be bad to not have to fake it everytime.”

  Your hands moved between your bodies as you squeezed his bulge lightly, hearing him wince. “Feeling brave today, are we?”

  “No, just needing to relieve some stress, after all, finals are finally over.”

  You brushed your lips against Seonghwa’s before squeezing his bulge once more before pushing him away with the hand that held the soju bottle as you moved past him, smirking. 

  “So this is how we are playing tonight?” Seonghwa said under his breath. “Good luck with your boy toy search.”

  He said a little louder, which you only raised your hand dismissing his comment, as his eyes lingered on your figure. The pants becoming a bother. Finals week had taken its toll on him, and just like you, he also needed a release. His eyes trailed on you as he watched you move, talk, touch and laugh at everyone's commentaries, a knowing glint in his eyes, the smirk always present as he called in one of his friends.

  As it usually happened, neither you nor Seonghwa engaged once more throughout the night as you went on and on talking to every male, choosing if you’d bring any of them back home with you. The soju bottle now empty as your eyes wander on the last choices.

  “Found them already?”

  The amusement in Seonghwa voice already told the smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe…”

  “I’ll take that as no then,” you felt him get closer to you, his front pressing on your side. “I may have someone for you, if you want.”

  “Didn’t know you were into voyeurism,” your eyes quickly shot him a confused but amused look. 

  “And you seemed too bothered right now, so what is your answer?” 

  His hot breath against your neck and ear as you felt his lips touch your skin as his eyes studied you, as yours followed around the room trying to catch a glimpse of his friends, missing one as you turned to him with a smirk. Lips almost touching as you did, feeling his hand on your lower back. 

  “I guess you got my taste correctly.”

  “Darling, when I say I know you, I mean it.”

Lips quickly found your cheekbone as his hand pulled you closer to his body. You held any sound not giving him the satisfaction.

  “Cocky as always, aren’t you?” You chuckle but not move away from him, your nails scratching his abs through the shirt and subtly, as you feel them contract. “Why don’t you go get him then? I’m getting rather tired.”

  “He went upstairs though, should we go fetch him?” His eyes were siren-like, a small smirk as he took your wrist, guiding you up the stairs. The look from some of the boys from the frat only made you laugh as you shook your head. “What’s funny?”

  Seonghwa asks curiously as you reach the second floor. “Some of the boys looked at you guiding me.”

  “I guess that’s fair,” he chuckled as well, his demeanor changing a little as he kept his hand on your wrist guiding you through the rooms, reaching the one you knew to be his. “Someone spilled a drink on his shirt, he asked to borrow one of mine.”

  Your eyebrows raised, nodding still processing what was happening, as Seonghwa was a master of teasing you and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d guide you to the rooms — or his in specific — only to get you even more frustrated. Your eyes studied his features as his hand opened his room motioning for you to enter. 

   “I’m not fucking your friend in your room, Seonghwa.”

  “Who says anything on those lines, darling?” A chuckle left his lips. “Now, will you be a good girl and enter the room, or don’t you trust me to have your best interest in heart?”

  You bit your lip, noticing his gaze fall on them for a second before you motion to enter his room, eyes looking for the friend who was indeed with a shirt from Seonghwa and a stained one in hand. 

  “Oh, hello,” the boys said moving away from his phone, putting his shirt in a corner before his eyes fell on you and then Seonghwa. “Wingman, hm?”

  You shook your head at his words, noticing Seonghwa nod as you focused on the boy that took a few steps towards you. 

  “A good wingman, nonetheless,” your voice was laced with amusement as his friend reached closer with a smirk, his hand going to cup your face. “Now, shall we leave?”

  “Just give us a second, will you, darling?” Seonghwa said against your neck as you noticed both leave you, allowing you to take a breather. Of course Seonghwa would pull something like that. Few seconds later you hear footsteps and the movement of the door. “Thank you for being such a good girl, darling.”

  At that, the door closed the same second Seonghwa’s hands found yours hips pulling you against his front making you gasp, before chuckling lightly.

  “Smart, I gotta give you that.”

  “Couldn’t have made it easy for you to figure it out, could I?” 

  His lips quickly found your neck as you moved your head to the side giving him access as you arched your back, pressing your ass against his bulge. One hand found his on your hip as the other went to the back of his neck tangling on his long locks.

  “Of course, what would be the fun in that?” You chuckle before gasping as you felt him suck on the skin of your neck, as you put pressure on his nape, feeling his right hand lower towards your exposed thigh, the tips quickly wander to your inner thighs going up teasing your clothed core. “If you are just teasing this time, I swear —”

  “I’m done with your antics, darling, it’s time to put you in your place.” The whimper that left your mouth made him chuckle against your neck as he put pressure on your clothed clit making you jolt. “C’mon darling, I think we postponed this for far too long,” his hands quickly turned you to face him, one hand on your chin before going to your hair. “Why don’t we start with you on your knees?”

  You oblige letting him push you down, until your knees felt the floor, his crotch eye leveled, your mouth watering as his other hand undid his pants, the one on your head entangling with your hair as his pants fell, leaving him only in his underwear, the outline of his cock on display as you swallow hard. A light caress on your scalp was the only ‘okay’ you got before your hands quickly went to his waistband, lowering the underwear slowly. 

  His cockhead glowing with precum as you licked your lips feeling him pull your head near his pelvis, your hands pulling the rest of his underwear down as his cockhead quickly met the touch of your lips. The groan that left his lips making you smile as the pool in between your legs grew. As one hand finished pulling down his underwear, the other quickly met the base of his cock. 

  “Such a handsome face with such a pretty cock,” you said with a smile before opening your mouth, taping his tip on your tongue, feeling his fingers tighter on your head. 

  “Such a pretty filthy mouth, I wonder how it would look filled with my cum.”

  Without a warning, he pushed your head down his length, moaning as your lips and tongue made contact with his cock, your hand working on the base of the cock as the other rested on his thigh. In swift movements you started to little by little take him in your mouth, gagging lightly from time to time, before he let you breath, the spit line connecting your swollen lips to his cock only making him twitch before fucking your mouth once more. 

  “Fuck, darling, do you like when I fuck your mouth like that, hm?” One of his hands caressed your hollowed cheeks as he slowed his movements a bit, to be able to look at you. “Such a pretty little thing for me, taking me in your mouth so well like that, I wonder how your cunt feels if this is how well your mouth treats me.”

  You mumble with your mouth around his cock, making the vibration run through his body as one of your hands went up his abs under the shirt, which he quickly took it off, throwing somewhere along the pants and underwear as you started to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks, one hand on the base of his cock, sometimes joining in the movement your head was making. The sounds and cusses that went out of Seonghwa’s mouth only made you wetter by the second, if it wasn’t for your damped panties, you sure would have made a messy spot of arousal on his floor.

  At this point you tried your best to keep yourself composed, mouth open and holding yourself steady as he fucked your mouth, holding your head in place before his movements become more erratic. You could feel him twitch on your mouth the last few times, the cockhead reaching the back of your throat, your eyes watering as your nails sank onto the skin of his thigh before his release filled your mouth and throat.

  Before he could pull it out you held his base, slurping as you got the last drop of his cum in your mouth, swallowing and opening your mouth, putting his tip again in your tongue. The smirk along with the groan that left him was enough to make you want to do it all over again, to have him fuck your mouth once more, but his hand was quickly on your chin pulling you up, before connecting your mouths, making both moan against your lips. 

  Your hands quickly found his half-hard member, swift movements as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. His hand kept firm on the back of your head, holding you close to his as he ravish on your mouth, while the other went to your thigh, raising your dress to the waistline before slapping it harshly, making you jolt and moan against his mouth. A smirk could be felt as he slapped your ass one more time, pulling your hair, parting your lips, before smacking it once more, a glint in his eyes as he watched your whole body tremble.

  He quickly moves you to the bed, pushing you down as his lips meet yours once more, your hands moving to his hair as one of his keeps holding your neck, the other quickly parting your legs as he pressed his knee to your clothed core, the hand holding your hips in place as you instinctively you started moving slowly as he restrain your movements from the grip on your hip making you whimper against his mouth.

  “Please, please Hwa, I need — argh!” You complain as you feel the pressure of his knee against your clit, his mouth leaving wet trails of kisses along your neck and collarbone. “Please fuck me, please Hwa, I need you to —”

  “I said I’d put you in your place, not take orders from you, I’m sure you know the difference, right?” He hovered over you as he finished saying that, his hand previously on your hips going up under your dress to pinch your nipple making you whine and throw your head back onto the mattress. “I need an answer, darling,” he said once more, his lips hovering against yours as he forced you to look at him, his other hands massaging your breast as he pressured your clit once more, making you move your hips searching for friction, only making him chuckle. “Be a good girl and answer my question and you’ll get to cum, although I do like to play with my food before eating it, makes it even more delicious to watch you come undone on my tongue.”

  “Fucking hell,” you breath as you saw the smirk and watched his eyes fall to your parted lips, as the friction with his knee helped a little, but only made your insides burn with the need to have him inside you. “Yes, I-I know the difference, now ple-please touch me, please, Hwa.”

  “Looks like you know how to beg, that’s cute,” he said before both his hands found your dress, pulling it over your head, exposing the majority of your body, the only covered part being the place you wanted him the most. “Time to grant your wish, darling.”

  His lips quickly started a trail of wet open kisses down your neck, one of his hands holding your waist, the other playing with your nipple, pitching it as the other was finally met with Seonghwa’s mouth as he sucked in and played with the nipple, both with his tongue when he wouldn’t let marks over your chest. The lust in his eyes only got darker as he saw the marks embellishing your skin. 

  “Hwa, please… It hurts,” you whimper as you move your hips quickly against his leg, making him chuckle as he starts to kiss down your stomach, kneeling before you, siren eyes locked on you. “I’ve been good, now please fuck me.”

  Although you did plead, your voice carried a hint of demand that made Seonghwa arched his brows and smirked as his hands spread your legs wider. You lifted your upper body, resting it on your elbows as you wanted to see the sight of Seonghwa’s head between your legs, as you have imagined and dreamed about it so many times before, only to groan when he kissed your inner thigh, neglecting the heat coming from your clothed folds. 

  “Patience comes for those who wait, darling, and I rush for no one,” his voice was laced with lust and a hint of a challenge, making you bite your lip, knowing if you pushed his rules, he might leave you high and dry. His smirk grew as he realized you caught up with his hint. “I knew you were a good girl, a brat even, but good to know you can be easily tamed,” his lips touched your damped panties right above your clit making you jolt and curse under your breath. “Now, lay down on the bed and let me have my fun with you, okay, darling?”

  Before you could do as he said, his lips found your clothes core making you throw your head back with a moan, feeling his hands moving and pulling your panties to the side, his lips finding your sensitive clit making you jolt as he chuckled at your reaction, tip of his tongue touching your clit as he ravish on the sight of you squirming on his bed. Your hands quickly found his hair pulling it to you, which he obliged for the time being.

   As his lips enveloped and sucked your clit, his fingers that were parting your legs found your core, coming up and down your entrance, making you jolt and clench around nothing as he would never put them in too much.

  “Fuck Hwa, please please please please,” you squirmed already feeling tears fill your eyes as you looked down at him. “Fucking hell,” you said once more as your eyes met, the siren lustful eyes that you only dreamed of having between your legs before feeling his tongue play with your clit as two fingers enter you, making you throw your head back and arch your back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck!”

  You screamed as you felt the build up in your stomach, only for him to stop completely before you feel his hands tanking off you panties before hovering over you, kissing your lips once more as his fingers played with your slit before entering you and curling inside, his thumb pressing on your clit as you moaned against Seonghwa’s lips, cussing and begging at the same time, as all you wish was to cum.

  “My fingers or mouth, darling?”

  “Both.”

  “Greedy little darling, unfortunately you can only pick one,” you open your mouth to complain but only a moan escapes as he adds another finger making you squirm under him. “Choose now, or you won't have any.”

  “Mouth.”

  You say breathlessly as he lowers himself so his lips hover over yours. “Good girl.”

  His lips are soon connected to your clit once more as his fingers leave you making you whine at the loss and clench around nothing as he quickly starts to ravish on your cunt. His tongue enters you in places you never thought it would be possible as his nose flickers on your sensitive clit making you tug on his hair as moans, curses and Soenghwa’s name leave your mouth at each strip he licks and each time his tongue enters your core. 

  “Fuck Hwa, so good, fucking god—”

  “Cum for me darling, I want you to cum on my tongue, only then I’ll fill you up, so be a good girl and listen to what I say.”

  You could barely process what he said as the build up in your stomach became too much, as you tried to push Seonghwa away as the stimulation started to become too great but he didn’t pull away, smirking at how much you squirmed because of his mouth. As heat flushed through your body making you numb, Seonghwa took his type to lick you clean watching you jolt from how sensitive you were before hovering above you once more.

  “You ready for my cock, darling?” You just nodded as you watched him smirk, going for a condom that was in his drawer, quickly putting it on before positioning himself at your entrance. “I need to hear it.”

  “I want you to fuck me senseless, Park Seonghwa.”

  “My pleasure, my darling.”

  At that he thrusts fully into you, holding your hips in place, keeping steady as he watched you, wondering if it was okay for him to move. Once you started to breathe again and your hand met his forearm as the other went for your breast, he smiled and started to move. Steady at first, watching how your facial expressions would change, playing with your body as he wanted to see what would make you tic, what would bring the sweetest sound from your mouth, but most importantly, what would make you come back to his bed. 

  “Fuck Hwa, yes, please, just like — argh fuck, YES!” 

  You couldn’t care less if someone was listening, if you had to take the walk of shame tomorrow, if this was only a one night stand, how you’d face Seonghwa once more if that was the case, none of it matter, all it mattered was how well he was rearranging your organs as his fingers sank into the flesh of your hip and he’d pull you towards him. 

  “Is my greedy little darling enjoying my cock?”

  “Yes, yes, yes fucking yes.”

   Seonghwa smiled at your words as one of his hands left your hip to find your clit, making you scream the moment he started to put pressure there, feeling you clench around him, his eyes closing as he could only think about making you cum on his cock, think about hearing you moan like that once more for him. As he felt his own orgasm coming closer, his other hand went for your neck, squeezing it just enough to make you roll your eyes back as his thumb still moved slowly on your clit as his thrusts became erratic.

  “Cum for me darling, cum on my cock like the good slut you are, yes?”

  And that was enough to push you over the edge as you screamed, arching your back as you creamed around his cock, feeling his thrusts start to slow down before his last thrust kept steady inside you as you knew he had emptied himself. His hand on your clit went to the mattress as the one on your neck found your cheeks caressing it lightly before he locked your lips together. 

  “So that just happened.”

  He chuckled at your words, making you laugh as well, before he looked at you with the boba eyes you knew so well on certain occasions. 

  “I’m gonna pull out, okay?” You nodded whining at the loss of his cock as you watched him take the condom out and toss it on the trash as he got a cloth to clean you up, surprising you a little, bringing a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Are you okay?” He asked as he carefully cleaned you up, eyeing you with concerned eyes when you hissed a little and he quickly apologized.

  “It’s okay, Hwa, don’t worry about it,” you comment, trying to get up already looking for your clothes, only to have Seonghwa hold you by the arm as your legs failed you. “I’m fine, I’ll be okay in a bit, just —”

  “Lay down,” it wasn’t a request although it sounded like it coming from his mouth, by how careful he said it. “You are not leaving this room, we will sleep and then talk about it tomorrow, unless you are uncomfortable —”

  “It’s fine I— I thought you’d want me to leave since…”

  “I’m a little cold, yes, but not that cold. I could never make a girl leave my room right after something like this, especially if that girl is you.” Your breath hitched and Seonghwa smiled at you. “Now, let’s go lay down, do you want one of my shirts to sleep on, darling?”

  You nodded, smiling at him as you sat back on the bed, as Seonghwa smiled at you handing you a shirt and boxers, which you thanked as he pulled the covers after putting shorts himself and laying next to you in bed.

  “Thank you, Seonghwa.”

  “No need to thank me,” he kissed your temple pulling you closer to him on the bed, his hands playing with your hair as he noticed you drifting to dreamland, chuckling lightly. “Goodnight, my darling.”

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©skteezcursed (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[rosemariiaa]

~Just for you~

𐙚— pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚— rosie’s note: happy freak friday & valentine’s day babies!! today is the day to be nastyyyy, but i also like edging y’all🫦, idk if this is the best but i tried? happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚— link: rosie’s bookshelf

𐙚— themes: sexual content, sub!p, dom!azzi, language, nasty gfssss

enjoy!!!

The apartment door slammed shut behind them, the sound of basketball shoes scuffing against the floor as Paige bounced in. “34 points! 34 points!” Paige yelled with glee, not letting go of her excitement as she hyped up her girlfriend, circling her like she was some kind of superstar. “Did you see those threes, Azzi? I told you you’d kill it today!”

Azzi, still catching her breath from the game, rolled her eyes with a grin. “Yeah, yeah, I was great. But aren’t you supposed to be heading back to your place?” She teased, grabbing a bottle of water from the counter.

Paige immediately slowed, a frown crossing her face. She reached out, pulling Azzi closer by the waist, resting her chin on her shoulder. “What? I thought I was stayin here tonight?” Paige’s voice dropped to a mock-whiny tone, practically clinging to Azzi.

Azzi chuckled softly but pulled away slightly, her hands finding the hem of her shirt. “Nope. You’re supposed to go home. No sleepovers tonight,” she said playfully.

Paige pouted, but she wasn’t giving up. “Please, Az, just tonight?” she asked, her voice almost too soft to resist. “C’mon, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Azzi shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “You’re really pushing your luck, but I guess you can stay…for now.”

Paige lit up, following Azzi into the bedroom like a lost puppy. Azzi sighed, walking to her dresser to pick out some fresh clothes. “I’m changing, so no peeking, kay?” she said, half-joking, half-serious.

“Can’t help it,” Paige replied, leaning against the doorframe, watching her girlfriend. Azzi was so beautiful, her hair falling in messy curls around her face as she began to strip off her sweat-soaked shirt and pants, leaving her in nothing but a sports bra and panties.

Paige’s gaze didn’t leave her. She leaned closer, her lips curling into a grin as she watched Azzi move with ease, taking in every inch of her body. Azzi turned around to grab something off the bed, catching Paige staring. “Why’re you such a creep?” Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

Paige grinned and pushed off the doorframe. “The queen is not a creep. Respect me,” she teased, but her voice was low and sultry. Azzi snorted at her, shaking her head before she bent down to toss her clothes into the hamper.

Paige’s eyes were glued to her girlfriend’s figure, and before she could stop herself, her hand reached out, delivering a quick smack to Azzi’s ass. Azzi straightened up quickly, rubbing the spot and glaring playfully over her shoulder.

“Really, P?” she asked with a soft laugh, though it didn’t hide the growing warmth in her chest.

Paige, grinning mischievously, reached forward, pulling Azzi toward her by the arms. “What can I say? That shit fat.”

Azzi chuckled, her breath catching when Paige squeezed her ass. She turned around, meeting Paige’s gaze with a smirk. “I see.” She bit her lip, her hands moving to Paige’s chest, teasing her for a moment before she let her fingers trail down to her hips. “You’ve got no shame, huh?”

Paige’s heart raced as she grinned, leaning in to kiss Azzi, slow and deep. Her hands slid lower, landing on Azzi’s ass again, this time giving it a firmer squeeze. Azzi gasped, her body pressing into Paige’s as she melted into the kiss. A soft moan slipped from her lips as Paige’s hands continued to explore, smacking her ass once more.

Azzi’s hips bucked into Paige’s touch, her body responding to the heat. “Paige,” she whispered, her voice needy but soft.

Paige smiled against her lips, her fingers moving to trace the waistband of Azzi’s panties. “You like that?” Paige muttered, her breath coming out in short bursts as her hands slid lower, teasing Azzi even more.

Azzi let out a soft groan, nodding. “Yeah, I like it,” she whispered. “I like when you touch me like that.”

Paige’s lips curled into a grin as she gently squeezed again, watching Azzi’s face flush with desire. “So fuckin hot,” Paige murmured, her voice husky with need.

Azzi met her gaze, her eyes dark and full of desire. “Paige,” she breathed, her hands moving to the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her in for another kiss.

Paige groaned in response, her hands still exploring Azzi’s body. She didn’t want to stop, not now, not when Azzi was so close, so ready for her. “Please,” Paige whispered, her voice breaking with need. “Pleas- Az, need you.”

Azzi pulled away just enough to catch her breath, looking at Paige with a soft smile. “You’ll get me, just be patient.”

Paige nodded quickly, her lips hovering near Azzi’s. “Kay,” she murmured, her voice dripping with desperation. “I’ll wait.”

Azzi ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, her touch gentle as she kissed her forehead. “Good girl,” she whispered, her voice soothing, but laced with desire. “Just a little longer.”

Paige, still desperate but willing to listen, nodded. “Okay. Yeah mhm.”

Azzi presses another kiss to Paige’s lips, her fingers trailing down her side as she pulls back just enough to meet Paige’s eyes.

“Wanna shower with me?” she asks, her voice low and sultry, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. Paige nods quickly, eager to follow her, and they make their way to the bathroom. Azzi undresses first, starting the water, while Paige’s eyes linger on her, taking in the sight of her bare skin.

As Paige steps into the shower first, Azzi smacks her ass playfully, making Paige jump and turn around with a grin. “Bruh,” she laughs, but Azzi only giggles, shushing her as she moves past her.

“Get in so I can,” Azzi teases, sending a wink Paige’s way as they both stand under the hot water. Azzi grabs the loofah, lathering it with soap as she starts washing her body. Paige can’t help but watch, her eyes tracing the curves of Azzi’s figure, fighting the urge to do more than just stare.

Azzi catches Paige’s gaze in the mirror and raises an eyebrow, “Wanna bite?” she murmurs, her voice teasing yet firm.

Paige, still fighting the ache in her chest, remembers Azzi’s earlier request to be patient. She takes a breath, trying to hold back, but then she bites her lip and looks at Azzi, finally giving in.

“Fuck it,” Paige mutters under her breath, before pinning Azzi against the shower wall with a kiss. Azzi gasps softly but doesn’t pull away, instead her hands instinctively travel to Paige’s breast, fingers pressing softly into the fat.

Paige kisses her harder, mumbling against her lips, “Need you, Az. I can’t wait anymore, please.”

Azzi’s eyes flash with something darker, her lips curling into a smirk. “Shhh okay,” she whispers, holding Paige’s face gently, but firmly. “Gotta be quiet, baby. KK’s right in the other room, remember?”

Paige nods, biting her lip, but Azzi doesn’t let her off that easy. She presses a soft kiss to Paige’s forehead and then speaks again, her voice taking on a more commanding tone. “Y’gonna be good for mommy?” Azzi asks, one hand slipping to Paige’s waist, pulling her even closer. “Don’t want to hear a sound unless I say so. Got it?”

Paige, breathless, nods eagerly, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist as she kisses her neck, murmuring, “Yes, I understand.”

Azzi smiles softly, rubbing her thumb over Paige’s cheek, her lips brushing over Paige’s with a whisper of, “That’s my girl.”

Then Azzi’s fingers started roaming slow, teasing, almost experimenting with the way Paige reacted. She traced soft lines over her skin, light enough to make Paige shiver. The contrast of the warm water from the shower against their skin heightened every sensation, and Paige’s breath hitched as Azzi’s fingers continued their deliberate path. Every little touch, every brush of skin, made Paige’s pulse race, her body reacting to Azzi in a way she couldn’t control.

Paige closed her eyes, letting herself lose in the feel of it, but her hands still gripped Azzi’s body, as if grounding herself, as if trying to hold onto something real in the moment. Azzi’s lips pressed against Paige’s neck, kissing, biting softly in all the right places that made Paige’s breath catch.

Azzi’s hands roamed lower until they reached paige’s wet pussy, not because of the water, but because of Azzi. She started moving her fingers in small circles at first on Paige’s clit, just enough to draw out a low sigh from Paige’s throat. But with each passing moment, the pressure and pace increased, matching the growing heat between them. Paige gasped, her lips parted in a breathless moan, a soft sound that filled the space between them. Azzi pulled away from the kiss, her eyes catching Paige’s desperate gaze, watching her reactions, studying her every move.

“You like this, don’t you?” Azzi murmured softly, her voice low, but the hint of something teasing in her tone. She slid her hand lower teasing Paige’s entrance with her finger, sliding her finger tip in and out then moving it back up to her clit rubbing faster, feeling the tremble in Paige’s body, the way she tried to stifle her every breath. “Gotta be quiet for me, babe.

Paige nodded quickly, too caught up in the sensation to speak. The water from the shower sprayed over them, mixing with the heat of their bodies, and Paige’s mind was fogging up. Azzi’s fingers finally went inside Paige’s tight hole, not even bothering to thrust slowly allowing her to adjust to her finger, each stroke now faster than the last, her movements controlled, making Paige squirm with need. The gentle pressure of Azzis long fingers turned into something sharper, something that made Paige’s stomach tighten, the desire coursing through her too strong to ignore.

Paige couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Azzi,” she breathed out, her voice unsteady, as if she was trying to beg for more without knowing what to say. She wanted her, needed her, but the intensity was making it hard to think clearly.

Azzi’s fingers moved deeper curling up just right, the pad of her thumb pressing on on her bud just the right way, making Paige’s chest rise and fall faster. “Shhh,” Azzi whispered, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear, “I’ve got you. Just trust me, baby.”

Paige’s body shuddered under her touch, and she couldn’t help the way her hips jerked forward, trying to meet Azzi’s every movement. She tried to keep her voice steady, but it was difficult as her body betrayed her with every stroke. “Fuckkk baby,” Paige whispered, her words barely audible, barely coherent as she tried to control herself. “Don’t stop, Az. Please…”

Azzi’s eyes darkened, the satisfaction evident in the way her fingers continued their steady pace, drawing out every reaction she wanted from Paige, making her bite her lip so hard to keep quiet she almost drew blood from it. “I won’t stop, baby,” she promised, pressing her body closer, “y’gonna cum for me? Can you do that?”

Paige nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. The pressure Azzi was creating was more than she could handle, but she didn’t want it to stop. Azzi kept her in that dizzying place between pleasure and control, not giving her the relief she craved until Paige was right on the edge, her breath catching in her throat.

Azzi’s voice was a soft whisper, almost playful as she looked at Paige’s face, watching her unravel slowly. “Gotta be quiet” she whispered , her lips curling into a smile as she saw the desperate look in Paige’s eyes.

Paige could barely manage a nod, but the way her body responded, the way she clenched around Azzi’s fingers, told her everything Azzi needed to know. Paige wanted more—wanted her more—and Azzi would give it to her, but only if she was good.

Paige is still catching her breath when Azzi moves lower now removing her fingers out of Paige, her hands firm on her thighs as she kneels in front of her. She takes her time, letting her gaze linger on Paige’s throbbing clit, and her cubt clenching around nothing, drinking her in. Paige feels her face heat under the attention, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

“Az,” she whispers, fingers twitching against the cool tile. There’s hesitation in her voice, like she’s already unraveling, like she isn’t sure she can handle more.

Azzi just hums, rubbing slow, soothing circles into Paige’s skin. “You’re okay, baby,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Let me take care of you.”

Paige shivers, her grip tightening where she’s bracing herself against the wall. “I—Az, I don’t know if—”

“You can,” Azzi interrupts gently, her voice warm, steady. Her lips brush over sensitive pussy, before she glances up, eyes locked on Paige’s. “Be good for me, yeah?”

Paige exhales shakily, nodding before she can think twice.

“That’s my girl,” Azzi says, smiling softly against her skin before finally giving in.

The first lick of Azzi’s tongue has Paige gasping, her body tensing, one hand flying to Azzi’s damp curls like she needs something to hold onto. Azzi doesn’t rush—she moves her tongue and mouth with purpose, firm but unhurried, like she has all the time in the world to pull Paige apart.

Paige lets out a choked sound, her head dropping back. “Azzi shittt—”

“Shhh,” Azzi soothes, squeezing her thigh, keeping her steady. “Gotta be quiet, baby.”

Paige bites her lip, nodding, but it’s getting harder to stay quiet, her breath coming in quick, uneven pants. Azzi doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, her tongue dipping in and out of Paige’s hole and running up and down her folds, her hands firm, grounding.

“Mommy,” Paige tries again, her voice smaller this time. “I—I’m—”

Azzi presses another kiss to her clit. “I know, baby,” she whispers. “I got you.” She then sucks Paiges now burning pink clit faster and harder as Paiges legs are no shaking against her, her wetness dripping onto Azzi’s. Making the younger girl moan against her cunt and lick it all up.

Azzi stands up, pressing a lingering kiss to Paige’s lips, “You were so good for me baby.” her voice softer now, their breaths mingling as they slowly come back down. She strokes a hand through Paige’s damp hair before stepping out of the shower first, reaching for a towel.

The second her back is turned, Paige smacks her ass, the sound echoing through the small bathroom.

Azzi jolts, whipping around with a glare. “Ouch, you’re gonna leave a bruise,” she huffs, rubbing the spot.

Paige steps out, completely unbothered, a lazy grin on her face. “Good,” she says, reaching for a towel—only to realize there isn’t one for her.

She frowns. “Where’s mine?”

Azzi secures her own towel around her body, looking Paige up and down with amusement. “Well, maybe if you went to your own apartment, you’d have a towel.”

Paige rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “Whatever. Don’t act like you didn’t want me here.”

Azzi lifts a brow, playing along. “I didn’t.”

Paige steps closer, tilting her head, smirking. “Mm, you have a funny way of showing it, ma.”

Azzi’s mouth opens, then closes. No comeback. Paige grins. “That’s what I thought.”

Azzi scoffs, muttering a quiet “Whatever” as she turns to the mirror, reaching for her toothbrush. Paige, still completely bare, doesn’t bother moving away. Instead, she stands behind Azzi, wrapping her arms around her waist, pressing against her back. Through the mirror, Azzi watches her, her grip on the toothbrush tightening.

Paige’s eyes are locked on her reflection, a smirk tugging at her lips. She leans in, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s cheek, whispering against her skin, “You look nervous. You got nothin’ to be nervous about.”

Azzi swallows, eyes flickering to Paige’s in the mirror. “I’m not,” she mumbles, toothbrush moving hastily in her mouth.

Paige hums, letting her hands rest on Azzi’s stomach. “Mhm. You played so good today, Im so proud of you,” she murmurs, her voice low, genuine.

Azzi’s lips twitch around the toothbrush, her gaze softening. “Thank you, baby.”

Paige presses another kiss to her cheek. “Mm, you’re welcome.”

Azzi leans forward, bending slightly to spit into the sink, her ass pressing right back against Paige’s hips. Paige stills, eyes dropping to the contact, her grip on Azzi’s waist tightening just slightly. Her bottom lip catches between her teeth, her breath hitching as Azzi leans down further, practically bending over to rinse her mouth.

Paige stays still, watching, her fingers twitching against Azzi’s skin.

Paige doesn’t even think about it—her hands move instinctively, sliding down to Azzi’s waist, fingers pressing into damp, warm skin as she pulls her back, pressing her even closer. Azzi lets out a small, sharp breath, her body reacting before her mind catches up.

Her hands brace against the counter, grip tightening, eyes flickering up to the mirror. Paige is standing right behind her, taller, bare, her gaze dark and steady as she watches Azzi’s every move. The room suddenly feels smaller, the space between them nonexistent.

Azzi shifts slightly, resting her weight on one elbow, tilting her head just enough to meet Paige’s eyes through the mirror. “What are you doing, Paigey?” she murmurs, her voice quieter now, curious, teasing.

Paige’s lips curl into a slow, lazy smirk, but she doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she leans in, her chest pressing against Azzi’s back, her breath warm as it fans over the younger girl’s shoulder.

“Mm,” Paige hums, fingers tightening just slightly on Azzi’s waist, thumbs stroking slow, deliberate circles. “Dunno. You tell me, baby.”

Azzi’s eyes flicker between Paige’s in the mirror, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. “What’re you thinking about?”

Paige exhales slowly, her grip on Azzi’s waist flexing just a little tighter. Her lips part like she’s hesitating, like maybe she shouldn’t say it—but then she does anyway.

“Wanna strap you up.”

Azzi’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter for just a second before she straightens up. Slowly, she turns in Paige’s hold, her dark eyes locked onto the older girl’s, searching, testing. She tilts her chin up slightly, watching Paige’s reaction, before reaching for the knot in her towel, fingers working it loose.

She doesn’t break eye contact as she lets the fabric slip from her body, the towel pooling at her feet, leaving her completely bare in front of Paige. There’s something so deliberate in the way she does it, the slow reveal of skin, the unspoken challenge in her gaze.

Paige swallows hard, her pupils blown wide, her lips parting slightly as she drinks in the sight of her. She doesn’t even try to hide the way her eyes roam, how they trace every curve, every inch, completely enraptured. She licks her lips absently, like she’s trying to wet her suddenly dry mouth, like she’s trying to gather herself—but it’s useless.

“Fuck,” Paige mutters under her breath, her voice rough, almost reverent.

Azzi just watches her, the smallest, knowing smirk tugging at her lips, waiting.

This is gonna be a long night.

[nichuuu]

Scatterbrain

Word count: 18k+

They say it takes a village to raise a child. 

To raise a girl as fine as Jang Wonyoung, you’d probably need 3 whole villages.

Two of those three villages would be used to train the way she walks because it’s perfect: classy, poised, elegant. The other one would have to work on her outfits because god would she need those. Hopefully the village doesn’t operate a Shein style manufacturing line. She’d hate that.

Her face is the definition of “striking the gene pool lottery”, and so is the rest of her body. Lanky arms and legs; toned, slim tummy; big, bright eyes that glimmer under the flashing lights. Personally, you like her “you’re on camera” smile the most. She knows this, and she always makes it a point to shoot it your way as she struts towards you. She stops half way to get a flute of Champagne, make that two actually, then grabs another. Those long legs can cover one hell of a distance, and they bring her right to you in a matter of seconds.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she hands you the Champagne flute in her left hand, and the rings on it shine in the light, “cause it’s starting to feel like you’re just stalking me now.”

Of course, it’s the snarky remarks that open the conversation. Jang Wonyoung, airheaded as ever m’lady, and you sip on the Bubbly that she’s very nicely delivered to you. Wonyoung is, of course, a little bit of an airhead in your books (only because she believes that you’re always there for her, nothing else), and it’s never not hilarious to watch her draw her lips into a thin line. It’s not the first time she’s hearing this from you; it certainly won’t be the last. You can’t control where you’re posted to, but you know for a fact that you’ll see her again a couple months down the road.

Cause your meetings with Jang Wonyoung are through pure serendipity really, and you certainly will start calling it that after you read that one story. You know: the one where this guy cheats on his idol girlfriend, who he has a tense relationship with, with another idol that he happens to meet just about everywhere. There’s 0 communication between the two of you when these types of events come around, and neither of you know if either of you will be there or not. Actually, it’s just you really; neither of you know if you will be there. 

“Here for Kwon Eunbi again? Or are you finding someone else?” This question of her’s is customary at this point. Never once has it been perfunctory.

“Well, I was actually here to try and catch an interview with Jo Yuri, but I guess you’ll do,” you reply. Wonyoung scoffs—so I’m second place then?—and you have to assuage her oh-so-damaged ego, “you’re making this inference on your own Princess. I never said anything remotely close to that.”

And it’s that smile on her face that makes you want to kiss her really. It’s gorgeous, it’s cute, it’s beautiful. She’s given you that damned smile so many times that you could probably draw it from memory, though you’d definitely butcher it. The dress is certainly doing it justice, and you watch it brush against the skin of her legs as she shifts her weight to the other foot. I’ve never been that good at inferences. You’re far better than me, Prince, and she’s playing with her hair: twirling and untwirling it around her finger. That ribbon atop her head… Her stylist certainly knows their stuff.

“Think I’ll win an award this year?” Her question draws you away from your thorough examination of her. You take a moment to think, and you have to say, it depends, but I think you could definitely get something in some category. She gives you this inscrutable look, and she’s chuckling to herself as she looks at the crowd and sips on her champagne. You can guess what she’s about to say next: quite the crowd today, huh? And you’d reply, “Don’t think that they’re all here for you”, and that would prompt her to shoot back with, “Then who are they here for? You?”. 

But of course, when do things ever go according to plan?

“Have you thought about my offer?” she asks, and you’re caught off guard. 

Cause here’s the history between you two: Middle school best friends, always kind of inseparable. She was the beauty queen, it girl, and she still is; you were the writer, head of the school magazine, and you’re pretty much writing for the rest of your life. Wherever you went with her, rumours followed—Are they dating? I think they’re just friends. Maybe she’s trying to be the front of the magazine?—but you never thought much of it. It was just a simple friendship to you, nothing more. 

Then the kiss she gave you in high school changed it all.

It was a party, hosted by one of your mutual friends. She kissed you, and no, it wasn’t a Spin The Bottle forfeit, nor was it a dare of any sort; it was a sincere, tender kiss in the garden—unprompted, and away from any prying eyes and soft like silk chiffon. You have to admit, the sensation had your brain mired for a minute or so. But when you came back to your senses, you kissed her right back, and things got complicated after that. 

No one knew of it; it was your little secret. Wonyoung became closer than ever, and next thing you know, she declares the two of you “exclusive” but not dating. It’s because her agency has that funky dating ban thing, and Wonyoung was desperate to find a loophole, albeit a little complex. Of course, you’re willing to stay “exclusive” with Wonyoung in secret, but you started to worry that it can’t stay this way for long after the two of you get out of high school. 

But as fate would have it, your career paths meet at the crossroads, and now you see her every other month or so. You still text her when you can, and the “exclusive” relationship has sustained. Now that she’s an adult and she’s bringing in mad bucks for the agency, she’s informed you of some changes in her contact. From there, the offer was birthed, and you have left it unchecked for the past four months or so, “grey ticked” as she liked to call it.

“You haven’t texted in a while, thought you died,” she continues, leaning on her elbows against the table. “Thank god you’re alive, huh?”

You hoped that she’d just forget about it, but she’s more of a mnemonist than you give her credit for. An award show is the last place you expected to be caught off guard by Jang Wonyoung, but she’s definitely a master of surprise. I uh… I haven’t really thought about it, is a lie you tell her and yourself. She smiles enigmatically, downs the rest of her Champagne. 

“Let’s talk about it tonight,” she touches your chest, and it’s soft like silk chiffon, “you know where to find me, Prince.”

She struts off to join the rest of her members, stops halfway to return her Champagne flute, then looks back at you over her shoulder to give you a small wave. You sip on your Champagne as the silk brushes against her skin. 

It’s a heavy breath that leaves your mouth, and it’s the rest of the Champagne that goes in.

*

302.

Gold lettering, black plaque. It’s grand, pretty elegant. Suits her well. 

Then the door opens. 

In her bathrobe, Jang Wonyoung shoots her “you’re on camera” smile. You’re earlier than expected—she lets you in—Matter of fact, I thought you might not show at all.

And it’s a must to quip back, “thought you’d be asleep by now you big baby.”

When the door closes, it’s straight to work, and here’s how that normally goes: kissing, undressing, foreplay, then finally—fucking. Not that it has to follow that order or anything, but it’s the unspoken schedule that Wonyoung’s written up. God forbid anyone goes against what the princess is comfortable with, not that you’d ever try to either way. Your voice is barely a mumble past her lips—aren’t we supposed to talk about something?—and Wonyoung’s quick to dismiss any queries, “later. There’s always time for it later”. 

So it’s the kiss that’s pulling you back into her. Her front teeth capture your bottom lip, pull, drags it back a little like she’s trying to unwrap you like a present. You hold her waist, and with gentle hands, you push her back against the wall. It’s not that you’re trying to get control or anything; you’re just attempting to give her something to work with, a place to rest as she starts to work on the buttons of your shirt. 

“Are you already naked underneath that?” you whisper, though it’s more of a drawl than a whisper. In response, she momentarily stops with your buttons to slide a section of her bathrobe away, giving you a good look at a column of her naked, milky skin. 

In short: Yes, she is very much naked under that robe.

“Don’t get distracted, my prince. Eyes up here.”

“You’re the one that made me look, princess.”

She’s evidently struggling with the last button of your shirt, and you have to let go of her for a moment to help her get it done. Then it’s off with the shirt, and she flings it against the door for convenience sake. Your belt’s next, and that’s taken care of before you can even say, let me undress you Princess. It does make her hesitate at the clasp of your trousers for a bit. Just for a bit.

“I’d like,” her fingers are moving again, and they’re awfully quick at unfastening your pants, “for you to unwrap me on the bed instead.”

How raunchy of her. Makes you want to try her on.

Your pants fall. Your hand slithers into the bathrobe. Her jaw drops. Wonyoung my darling, and your fingers have captured one of those perky breasts, the right one to be exact. How do you ever—it’s light pressure to the nipple for you; it’s mind melting for her—get away with being such a big slut? Look at you, I’m barely even squeezing here. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes wide, mouth agape and her chin tucked into her neck. Frame it up, take a step back, admire it. It’s the face of someone who’s pent up, the expression of a needy girl who’s been aching to get some dick. Maybe if you guys had met a little sooner, she wouldn’t be this sensitive. But now? A twist of your forefinger and thumb is all it takes to draw a cry out of her, a little more pressure is enough to rain hellfire upon her. What a crazy-hot mess she is; only god knows how to clean her up and get her sorted out.

Open mouth straight to your ear, Wonyoung lets out a breathy gasp. In your fingers, the stiff peak rolls between the pads—back, forth, back, forth: motions that make her weak in her knees. It’s with great effort that she pulls your face back to hers, captures you in her quivering lips. Elegance has long been thrown out the window by now, and it’s not going to be returning for quite some time, as if you ever need it at a time like this. She’s barely holding herself up at this point. Where did the prim proper Jang Wonyoung go? 

The answer’s in her kiss—gone, dusted, she was here just a minute ago though. She’s grasping at whatever inch of your skin she can find, and her nails are definitely gonna be leaving marks on the sides of your neck. You let out a small, wry laugh as you silently observe her behaviour, watching her implore without speaking, badger without requesting. It’s an art form really, the form of expression for the horny and desperate and bratty. When her hands grip your face and her nails sink into your cheek, you pinch a little harder and relish the pleasant vibrations that are sent into your mouth as she gasps. Her palms press into your jaw, and they’d probably crush it if you press any harder. Her feet patter against the wood as she starts to direct you to the bed. You kick off your shoes together with your pants. 

It’s definitely a sight to take in: Jang Wonyoung in a massive king size bed, a thin bathrobe being the only thing between you and that wonderful body being the bathrobe. Maybe if she wasn’t in this state she’s in, she’d gesture to you with a come hither motion, and invite you to remove the fabric from her body. Instead, she opts for a spine tingling mewl, and that’s your invitation to her body. It’s hardly an insinuation; the fact that she wants to be unwrapped like a present is undeniable, she used the word unwrap herself. The bunny knot holding the two pieces of fabric is symmetrical—has Wonyoung’s fingerprints all over it. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s watching you with a half-open mouth, maybe you’d compliment her on her efforts a little, maybe even call her “princess” a couple more times before you properly ruin her.

(But she’s already ruined, ruined by a mere bit of pressure to the nipple. What else can make her tick now?)

Her body is at your mercy and it, quite literally, jerks as you start to pull at the knot, undoing it centimetre by centimetre, millimetre by millimetre, inch by inch. You want to see how long she can watch for, how long she can witness herself be undressed in a painfully slow fashion. Needy as she is, she’s patient as she watches one end of the rope grow longer. 

Longer. 

“Do you want me to speed this up, baby?” The smirk on your face would earn you a pout from her if her nerves weren’t in a bundle at the given moment.

“W-Whatever you want,” she answers, and her voice is brimming with breathy arousal. How are you getting away with all this? She’d grab your wrist and pull by now if she wasn’t so damn needy right now.

You give a dry laugh. “Then I’ll keep at this then.”

Longer.

“Fuck. Just pull it all the way already.” She looks you right in the eye as she begs you to hurry, and now you can see the need brimming in those large, round eyes, the ones that stare back at you with soft intensity, if that’s even possible. She’s good at mixing emotions into her stare.

“I thought you said—”

“Just fucking do it!”

Slack.

And the knot comes undone, and together with it, the robe falls off to the sides of her body—it’s beautiful. Never have you taken so much pleasure in undressing her, but you sure-as-hell have taken this much time to admire that wonderful, slender frame. From your standing view over her, you get down to her level to get a better look at her. It’s all part of the game of course: the way you look her in the eye, the way you touch her jaw ever so slightly to turn it towards you. The kiss is sickly sweet, and she’s starting to taste more and more like that cherry lipstick you gave her when you saw her some time ago at another event. Into your mouth, she lets out a sonorous moan. Your fingertips brush along her skin, slither down from her collarbone to her cleavage—down to that flushed pink region between her equally flushed thighs. Almost instantly, the tip of your digits are coated in slick fluids, and you raise an eyebrow at the girl on the bed.

“I literally touched you.” It’s amusement permeating your voice more than anything. In the sheets, she squirms in the slightest, eyes locked on your fingers that rest against that dripping heat and breath caught in her throat. You know that if you were to shift your finger in the slightest, you’d trigger a chain reaction that you have no power over. Her legs would clamp, her abdomen would tense, her eyes would roll. In the midst of it all, she’d maybe scream, or maybe she’d moan; either way goes. As far as you’re concerned, she’s needy as fuck at the moment, and she’s not going to let anything stop her from cumming.

“Yea, well… I can be sensitive.” Her defence is hardly a solid one, more of a perfunctory reply. Her head’s far from able to formulate a quip to throw back at you; that ability went out the window together with classy Wonyoung. “Put them in.”

You go against her request, and your fingers start to skirt the edges of that swollen, pink slit of hers. A crime—you’re going against the princess’ wishes, but realistically speaking: she can hardly be called a princess at the moment, so why comply? 

A portion of the bathrobe is still clinging on to her breast. You use your other hand to push it away, and the split second of contact makes her flinch. “Jesus. You’re so fucking turned-on right now,” you can’t help but muse, all while your fingers retrace te outline of her swollen lips. She’s shivering, she isn’t breathing quite right. “Do you want to moan, baby? Do you want to moan like a good little slut for me?”

And she fixes you with a glare. “F-Fuck you… Put them in.”

No “please” this time. Shame. If she were more polite, you would’ve obliged; now you’ll just have some more fun with her. 

Your thumb finds the swollen nub, and a little brush is all you need to get her straining like a psycho in a straitjacket. What will I ever do with you Wonyoung?—and she’s getting wetter by the second—You look so pretty when you’re so needy, you know that?—why would you ever, for a second, think that she’d be as refined as the last time? She doesn’t play with herself when she needs to get off; she waits till she sees you again to get off on your cock, your fingers, your mouth. Sexting was off the table, she wants you to be physically there, driving her insane as she lets herself come undone. 

“You know,” and you’re almost laughing as you watch her face twist even further, “that I could do this forever right? I could just lie here, tease you for as long as I want… Or maybe that’s what you want?

She’s messy, so fucking messy. Juices are starting to soak the bed—you can feel it as your fingertips round the bottom of her slit. Housekeeping would certainly question the spot, and the two of you wouldn’t be there to reply anyway. Her cheeks are flushed, the veins of her throat are popping. It takes a considerable amount of effort to stay this composed, but you know that she’s breaking more and more. With each round your fingers make, cracks start to form along that perfectly sculpted face. The fine lines on her forehead begin to show as her brows start to furrow. Strained sounds are coming from her throat as the urge to moan is slowly winning the battle against her will. She wants control, but she can’t have it when she’s a wet, hot mess next to you. She’s being bratty for the sake of it. Your fingers are your leverage against her. It’s killing her. It’s delighting you.

And just like fine China thrown against concrete, her will shatters. 

“Please! Put them in!”

And your fingers stop just at the top of her pussy. It feels like a long minute, but she isn't about to take another second of this. Her thighs clamp against your arm. Her fingers wrap around your wrist in desperation. She begs again. And again. And again. And again, again, again. The bed starts to creak as you start to move your fingers down her lips, down to the very end of her cunt.

God is she dripping.

“Will you moan for me?” you drawl huskily. A finger, two, three rest themselves against her heat. 

“Yes.” There’s barely any of her original self left in there. “Please just—”

The fingers breach her opening. She screams, a high-pitched, keening cry. The noise makes your cock strain in your boxers, and you have to grit your teeth as her inner walls wrap tightly around your intruding digits. A moment of stillness comes, a moment where she’s just breathing raggedly, struggling to process this pleasure that’s racking her body faster than she can comprehend. She’s a ticking time bomb of nerves; the slightest movement in this state could send her into perdition, and she’ll barrel past that point of no return faster than both of you can imagine. God, she’s sensitive. God, she’s a mess. 

The chuckle that departs from your mouth is one of perverse pleasure. “Baby,” you whisper, right into her ear as she struggles to catch her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut, and you watch with a grin as her chest rises and falls. The grip on your wrist is a vice, knuckle-white and unrelenting. She’s begging you, with her eyes, to start moving, and you have to tell her, “I can’t start till you let go of me, baby.”

And it’s with reluctance that she slips her hand off your wrist, but that hand won’t stay empty for long. You guide it to her own breast, and with a soft whisper, you tell her to squeeze. She’s servile. She complies without protest. Her eyes slowly open themselves, and you relish the way they’re lust-glazed appearance looks under warm light while her breaths level themselves out. For a moment, there’s calm. For a moment, it’s tender.

Then your fingers start to move. All hell breaks loose.

Everything she did to calm herself quickly becomes futile; it becomes undone as her back arches in a way that catches your breath in your throat. Your fingers graze her walls, pressed into each other as they slowly draw in and out of her. And mind you: you’re going slow, slow enough to make her feel every bit of your fingers brush against her insides. But it’s enough to make her curse, enough to get her mewling like a damn kitten while her hips start to rock, rubbing her clit against the base of your palm. There’s no way to describe how needy she looks; her want is beyond words, and you’ve barely even started. Three fingers is the most you’ve ever put inside her. Clearly, it’s working wonders for her.

And now you yourself have to admit: you’ve wanted her for some time now. Since the last time you saw her, you’ve fantasised about that slim tummy twitching, about holding that snatched waist once more, about those long legs wrapped around your neck while your tongue and fingers turn her into a pliant plaything. For weeks, you’ve wanted nothing more than pulling Jang Wonyoung apart, reduce her into a withering mess wherever you guys are and get her screaming till she’s sore. You can’t even begin to describe what you’ve done with her in your dreams, nor can you ever convey how it feels to desire her as much as you have. So, you put all of it into action, sordid sentiments channelled into your fingers that are making those cute features twist and contort in perverse pleasure. She’s rambunctious, and her juices are quite literally soaking your hand, spilling the strongest sillage of lust all over the bed. 

“Why do you always have to be so fucking messy?” You’re really just trying to see how much you can get away with at this point, though the answer seems to be: just about everything. Your fingers start moving faster. You love the way her cheeks are starting to flush even more. “Are you always this wet? Or is it just for me?”

The squelching is lewder than you can ever imagine. The sound of her slick, wet heat being breached by your fingers is enthralling. Add the sounds she’s making into that and you have the ultimate erotica audio that can bless mankind. She’s panting, she’s moaning, she’s whining—she’s doing it all really, and you’re just using your fingers. God knows how she’ll react once you’re inside of her, rock hard meat stretching her out instead of a few fingers fiddling around in warm walls. 

But hey, the sounds she’s making are ever so erotic, and she’s definitely making your blood flow to all the right places. She feels out of place; you can’t put your finger on what’s wrong in this whole thing. It’s probably a small detail, something you’d overlook over the sight of her chest heaving as air shoots out and gets sucked back into her mouth, her whole body straining and convulsing against the bed while you get a thumb on her clit and rub at a languid tempo. Probably something miniscule, not worth mentioning because all your attention is focused on the look on her face (you want to mess up the makeup so badly it’s almost frustrating). And no, you’re not trying to make her cum in five seconds; she’s just really riled up—bundle of nerves and trigger happy. Probably hasn’t been treated this way in a while, probably hasn’t had three fingers twisting around, sliding in and out of that tight wet hole slow enough to make her feel every bit of skin against her walls; fast enough to make her combust if you were to speed up, in, like, forever. 

“I–I…” She’s quite literally mewling, and the sharpness in her voice is so cutting that it makes an incision in a bag inside you that’s keeping all the perverse thoughts at bay. The thoughts are leaking out now, and it’s almost impossible to stuff them back in. You want her against the glass: tits against the window and ass in your hands while you pump and pump and pump into that slick tight hole; you want nothing more but to pick her up and have her lock her legs around you, tight frame flushed against you while you nail her against one of these walls that surround you; you want to unhinge that jaw and watch that pretty mouth—now parted to let the stream of moans flow—take your cock in and out between those kiss-swollen lips and watch the drool leak out the corners of her mouth. Shit. It’s killing you. Jang Wonyoung, dolled up. She’s killing you. 

(No way in hell are thighs meant to be this hot, and lips are not  supposed to look this delicious. Yet Jang Wonyoung somehow goes against every fucking norm, fights it naturally and effortlessly and wins like a seasoned warrior. So just for her case: her thighs can be this hot and flushed, and her lips can look this fucking appetising. You kiss her; it’s sloppy, it’s lewd, it’s hot and everything in between. Mark her neck, mark that row of skin above her right collarbone, mark her everywhere. Cusses are flying—god forbid her agency finds out about the things hse says while she’s getting fingered. She's making a mess out of herself. She’s making a mess out of you.

Fingers, just fingers and she’s already looking like this: hair fanned out, frazzled, looking like she just went through a car wash and yet somehow has her make-up intact. Fuck. You want to watch the mascara run, watch it streak while she tears up as she’s choking down cum and she’s struggling to take in air. Pretty little princess, messy and glacially being turned into some improper slut. It’s hard to not smirk while you ruin her with the same fingers you use to type articles about her—fingers that sing praises and can also make her moan enough to make her throat hoarse.)

The rhythm of your hand makes her body roll. Her toes–painted over, fresh manicure—curl into the sheets. Doe-like eyes stare back at you, plump red lips part to gasp your name, throat muscles strain trying to  curse and moan at the same time. The fingers are gliding in and out and in and out and she’s begging you to not stop (like hell you ever would) in those choke up little sobs while she’s—

Oh fuck baby I can’t I can’t I can’t — Anything. I’ll do anything. Please just let me cum. I’m so fucking close baby. Please just let me fucking cum. I’ll be a good girl. I-I promise I’ll be a good fucking girl for you just… Fuck!

—blue screening on your fingers: lost in the sauce or whatever. Pliant plaything, docile doll. You’re certain she hasn’t gotten off in at least a month if the way she’s taking it is any sort of yardstick. She’s far beyond drenched, far beyond salvation and way off the deep end of the “needy” pool—drowning herself in her own sea of sighs and gasps and moans and loose phonics that slip out of her mouth. Ostinato of your fingers squelching in her cunt; half time rhythm of the creaky bed; melody of the chorus of Jang Wonyoung’s voice—music to your ears.

And there’s lots to unpack from the moment you locate that soft spot at the top of her pussy. There’s a lot of cussing, a lot of jolting, a fair amount of whining and your name is thrown somewhere in that mix. You find her lips, she kisses back, one of her hands grabs your arm, nails dig in and stay there. Flurry of actions, filthy language—fucking hell, someone stop her.

Bottom line: lots of action. You find it congenial to start from the part where it quite literally ends her world. Once your digits curled up into that sensitive patch of flesh, it was all over for her.

You can pinpoint the exact moment where the orgasm rips through her body, the exact moment where her muscles seized so perfectly that her back arches. The pulse around your fingers is strong, walls tight around your digits and your thumb gently rubbing on her clit while the pleasure rolls through her body, molten iron libido converting the feeling between her thighs to electricity that makes her short circuit. The moan is breathy if anyone’s asking, and the look on her face—twisted, perverse satisfaction: superimposing need and want—has a whole foot over the line of pornographic. Wires are fraying in her head, her vocal cords are strained, she’s ruining the sheets with her juices; you’re complicit in every damn part of this, and guilt is the last thing on your mind.

Then her back falls back flat against the mattress, and the sheets ripple as her body makes a dense thump against the bed, punctuating the sigh she releases into the air. Nerves are unbundling themselves. She’s sweaty and panting. Your fingers are beyond soaked.

“Messy,” you muse, slowly drawing your juice slicked fingers out of her cunt. You bring them to her mouth. She languidly tastes herself, sweat-darkened sheets hugging the muscles of her shoulders and lining her ribs. She looks so tiny in the bed if you looked over the fact that her legs were dangling over the edge of the mattress, and that’s easy to do once you lean in for a kiss.

(It’s not hard to slip your tongue into her mouth, and there’s barely any fight left in her as you roll her nipple between your index finger and thumb. The sweat-matted hair sticking to her forehead adds a nice touch to her face.)

“Such a good girl.” Your tone is warm as you praise her, and a hand moves to cup her cheek in an act of tenderness. Her eyelids flutter shut. She puts the weight of her face into your palm. 

“Do I get my reward now?” she whispers, and it’s more of a plea than a question really. You take a moment, not to think, but to drag out the suspense for a little more before you give her an answer. You take guilty pleasure in knowing that you could keep her on tenterhooks for the whole night—the only thing stopping you is the throbbing of your cock in your boxers and the look of sheer need on her face. If you could: you’d drag this out a little longer, maybe tease her a little and call her more names. You still could do that, but you’d much rather fuck her instead. 

“Where do you want it?” your thumbs hook into the waistband of your boxers and hook them down. Your cock springs free from its cottons confines, and Wonyoung’s eyes instantly dart to it. She may be a little obsessed with your cock, but only a little when she’s depraved (which is right now). Before you can even react, she has your shaft in her hand, lanky fingers wrapped around it and pumping it with considerate strokes. 

“I want a big load in my ass.” she requests, far from innocent and banking more towards improper, which seems to be a pretty big theme of hers tonight. “I’ve been wanting to feel daddy’s  hot load leaking out of my ass for a long time…” The strokes delivered to your length grow firmer and firmer by the second. “Please?”

The spikes of pleasure her small hand delivers to your system is really making it hard to say no at the given moment. Of course, she’s well aware of it, and she’s definitely feeling so damn smug right now. And so with a very clouded mind, you nod. She smiles smugly, unaware that you’re about to fuck that smug little smirk rig of her pretty face. Conveniently, she’s already on her back—it’ll make the process so much easier. 

“I take it that the lube is in your bag?” You raise. She grins and nods. 

Sure enough, you find it in the exact same place as it usually is: side pocket, right next to her lipstick. You toss it towards her and move around her, slip her ankles over her shoulders. She lies still, unmoving and obedient as her left calf goes past her head, then her right. You lean forward, and she gasps as she's almost bent her completely in half. She’s flexible; this position won’t bring any harm to her, but it is congenial to ruin her asshole and leave her sore for the next day or so, which is exactly what she wants, but probably not how she imagined herself getting it. She cracks open the lube, and with precision, squirts a generous amount of it on the tight ring of her ass, making eye contact with you all the while as the clear liquid gathers at the puckered ring of muscle. The tube is discarded to a side when she’s done, and she uses her hands to spread her asscheeks for you, inviting you to take your liberties with her hole.

“Come on Daddy,” she urges you. “Come fuck this ass,” she continues, her hands spreading her ass cheeks even wider as you start to line yourself up with the tight ring. “Wreck this fucking hole Daddy, I can fucking take it.”

To hear her say those words was almost enough to have you cum right there and then. You press the tip of your cock at the open, gaping hole of her ass, swirling it around the entrance, collecting more of the copious amounts of lube around it. She was generous with the amount of lube she dispensed; you're about to be generous with the strokes you're gonna make inside that ass.

(She yelps when you slide inside her ass. God does it feel so fucking divine.)

She is so tight and wet and hot that you think you could’ve cum with your first thrust inside her. Her pussy was tight and hot, but her ass was even tighter and even hotter. Even though your cock was slick with lube, it did close to nothing to keep the sheer tightness of her asshole from clenching around you like it was a really small glove. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been inside her ass, but it sure as hell felt like a novelty every single time you entered that tight ring of muscle. Fuck. The heat, the tightness—sublime. You think you could cum in a matter of seconds if you didn’t have self control.

“Go!’ she hisses, through the pain and discomfort. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass!”

You would have been happy to stay there, buried balls deep in Wonyoung’s ass, but her own words goad you into moving—slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing pace, you begin to fuck Wonyoung’s ass with long, slow strokes. She hisses—part glee, part discomfort—as your shaft starts to pump itself in and out of her ass. You draw yourself out till only the base of you tip remains inside of her, and then you thrust back in, hard, hard enough to make her yelp out in pained pleasure while she grits her teeth and watches your rock hard shaft fill her ass. It's a perverse show for her, and it brings you a sort of dark satisfaction in knowing that past all that discomfort she’s feeling, she loves the way your cock stretches her out and fills her defenceless little hole. 

With her ankles over your shoulders, you’re practically spearing yourself vertically into her ass, fucking her deep and making her feel every inch of your throbbing meat inside of that hot, tight hole. Every penetration is punctuated by a deep, guttural groan from Wonyoung, sometimes a curse, or something along the lines of: fuck. So fucking full. You know for a fact that the pained sounds you hear now will turn into airy gaps of pleasure once she gets used to the discomfort, and that she’d probably be a mewling mess by the time you reach the stage where she can take you in and out of her ass with only pleasure in her system and no pain. For now, you’ll settle with the pace you have—slow, long strokes in and out of her ass while she squeezes her eyes to block out all sensations distracting her from enjoying the sensation of her ass being filled with cock. You have to admit that she’s doing a great job at it, and your praise vocalises itself in the rather harsh form of, “what a good little slut.” 

(And here’s something interesting you noted: never once in this whole thing did she ask you to stop, nor did you ever think about stopping to let her adjust. If this was anyone else, you would have given them a moment to breathe upon entering, and you certainly would be checking on their wellbeing throughout it all. 

Thing is—the two of you know her too well to know that you could only dream of stopping once you got started with her, and it could only end in two ways. 1) You cum in her. 2) You cum on her. Edge her and you’ll never get the end of it, you would know. The last time you pulled a stunt on her like that, she left you tied to a chair with a vibrator taped to your cock till you were begging and a cummy mess. It wasn’t pretty. She could dominate if she wanted to, but she preferred to be a manipulative brat instead.)

It’s not long before she’s desensitised to the pain, and your slow pace is not enough, no, not for Wonyoung. Next thing you know it, she hissing for you to go faster, fuck her harder—I told you to fuck my ass Daddy. Don’t hold back on me now—and deeper. She swears, all three languages that she knew strung together shabbily like they were put together on some shitty production line and thrown out at random—and while you made little sense of the sounds coming out of her filthy mouth you knew what they meant.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

Then you fuck her ass. Hard and fast.

You almost surprised yourself with the liberties you were taking, drilling in and out of her butt with the same speed and depth that you would use with her mouth and pussy.

“Yes!” she shouts—a loud, full shout. “Yes! Fuck me like this! Pound me, fuck me until you cum in my slutty little ass!”

You grunt in reply, because it was all you could do. The faculties of human language have long since abandoned your grasp and ability, and nothing else exists in your mind except the thought of filling her tight, hothole with warm, white semen. Her eyes lock with yours and you only find that they’re full of need, nothing else (not like she’s capable of displaying any other emotion at the moment). The rest of you, every fibre of your being, was focused on pounding Wonyoung’s tight little hole as hard and fast as you possibly could. Her ankles bounce helplessly behind your head, her knees press into her shoulders and her breath is ragged; sweat drips off your forehead and onto her tits, and your hot breath mixes with hers as you struggle to keep yourself propped up with your arms.

In short: the two of you are sweaty and messy (one more so than the other. Take a pick, not sure if there’s a prize for guessing right), victims of lust and slaves to pleasure. You blame Wonyoung just because you can.

For a few delicious moments, there is absolutely nothing in the world aside from the tight hot sheath of flesh around your cock, the warm flesh of her legs against your shoulders and the strands of sweat-slick hair that fly just about everywhere, all topped with the lewd, filthy, obscene words spilling from Wonyoung’s mouth. For a few delicious moments, she feels nothing but the feeling of her tight hole being stretched and used by the cock that turns her face into a wrought outlet of pleasure while she lets filthy words and exclamations spill from her lips. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t have it last forever. Not when you were already so turned on from watching her writhe and twitch under your fingers. Not when the sheer, pure pleasure overwhelming you was more than enough to cause you to cum at any moment.

And when she orgasms for the second time, her ass tightening exponentially around you—there is little you or anyone else could have done to stop the inevitable.

“I’m gonna cum in your ass, Wonyoung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your lust and pleasure-addled brain on the edge of losing all comprehension.

“Cum with me! Fill me!” 

And so you do it, burying yourself hilt deep inside the quivering woman’s asshole before filling it with the last of your cum, giving her every last drop you had left in your body, leaving rope after rope inside her sore, well-used, cum-filled asshole. You almost black out, and you quite literally have to dig your nails into the sheets while Wonyoung’s own orgasm takes over her body, making her twitch and her ass contract—milking every last bit of cum from your throbbing, twitching length till it was nothing but a dry, hard rod inside of her creamy asshole. 

There’s silence that is punctuated by both of your ragged breaths. She looks at you, you look at her. And the two of you can’t help but chuckle at the mess you’ve made of each other. You want to remember the way her nose wrinkles as she teases you, “you fucking animal”, and you want, so badly, to burn the image of a sweaty, weary Jang Wonyoung, folded in half beneath you like she was a piece of origami paper, panting and gasping as a fresh load of cum spills out of her ass. 

It takes energy, but you bend down and kiss her, letting her sweaty calves slide off your equally sweaty shoulders as you do. She’s satisfied, for now, and she pulls you down next to her on the hotel bed with one hand and gathers the cum leaking out of her ass with the other. 

“Look at this,” she whispers, and your eyes train themselves on the pearlescent, sticky, slimy, fluids that run down from her fingertips slowly. “You made such a big mess inside my ass,” she chides before bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking your cum right off her fingers like it’s a delicacy. “Now I have to clean all of this up. You’re lucky I like the way your cum tastes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Um… Ew?”

Wonyoung smirks and gently nudges you with her left foot.

“It’s okay,” she tells you, all smug and everything. “I know you love the way I taste too.”

* In the dark, her small hand creeps around your torso and grasps yours. 

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” She’s whispering right into your ear, and it’s a sensation you want to be able to hold on to for the rest of your life. “I know your eyes are open.” The feel of her small fingers rolling the knuckle of your index finger sticks itself in your head like a post-it. “ I can hear and feel you tossing, you know?”

Okay. No dodging. 

The sheets stay still as your shoulders turn. You roll over, face her, and you really just want to capture the way the night lights paint her face: doe-like eyes reflecting glimmering pools of moonlight, warm yellow light painting her cute-yet-so-fucking-gorgeous face in a manner that not even Van Goh could copy, lips parted slightly as if in mid speak. She’s right there—you can kiss her if you really want to.

“Are you still mad at me?” She asks, tender with her tone. “I know that I fucked up, okay?” You can tell that she’s not even trying to look pitiful at the moment, but the way her face is sculpted really makes you want to just hold her to your chest and stroke her hair. Sincere are her words—heart heaved into her mouth. “I don’t blame you if you’re still mad. It’s your right. But… Just hear me out? Please?”

If you were mad, you wouldn’t have let her hold your hand the way she was now. If you were mad, you would’ve pretended to be fast asleep; ignore her pleas and just close your eyes and fall asleep. Alas, you can never stay mad at her for too long.

“I was… Never really angry, Wony.” Your tone is a lot softer than you would ever expect, but you know it’s because you probably needed this talk more than she did. “I... I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

And she studies you for a moment, lets the sound of your breathing fill the space as she furls her upper lip into her front teeth, and it’s a perfect moment for you to try and understand what’s happening in her head. She’s a complex creature really; understanding her is like finding a meaning that everyone can agree on when you look at abstract art.

Down below, you can still hear the cars moving through the street. Billboards and screens are still on, and from the window in your bedroom, multi-coloured lights filter into the room past the blinds like moonlight through bamboo leaves. The sheets you lie in are fresh, and they feel nice and smooth against your skin, and they smell like roses. The mattress creaks a little as Wonyoung shifts her weight, and you have to admit that you’re half-drunk on the scent of her shampoo. 

“You must have been scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I got really emotional. I… I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that. Not now at least. Maybe it’ll come to you the next morning.

You give her a sweet smile. You hug her to your chest. You want to remember how she feels in your arms.

*

The gentle trickle of water down the arch of her spine is really something—a steady stream flowing down her back, running over the muscles of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts and fraying at her plump ass. You can’t remember the last time you showered with her, but you certainly remember the view being this good. 

In the shower of room 302, Jang Wonyoung lets the warm water hit her skin from the rain shower nozzle. Her hair—wet and freshly shampooed (and conditioned)—sticks to her back. Creamy skin glistens, small beads of water affix themselves to random parts of her body, stay there for one or two seconds, then roll down in streaks, almost as if they too were admiring Wonyoung’s well-sculpted figure.

Slim fingers grasp locks of hair. She lifts and looks over her shoulder, the whisper of a grin on her face as she shoots a beckoning wink. “Are you gonna help me soap my back? Or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?”

“Don’t you have to, like, turn off the water first?” you ask, and you already know what she’s gonna say, but you just want to hear her say it. For memory sake.

“Mmmm.” Her humming as she ‘ponders’ reverberates in the shower, floating over the sound of water from the shower head falling to the floor like rain. “No… Adds to the atmosphere, don’t you think?” 

Ah. There we go.

“Then could you at least step back?” you request. This shower is comically huge—long length, breadth about the same length as your arm span. In the space, she looks so tiny, but you know for a fact that she could probably walk to the other end of the shower in a stride. You’re not one to disregard the facts, but you do like to live with a bit of imagination.

Wonyoung chuckles, low and sonorous. She pushes her hair over her shoulder, then—painfully slowly—walks back till she’s out of the stream of water. Water wastage is the last thing on her mind. She stops when she feels your hands on her back, and she looks over her shoulder, expectant. You move your hands and the soap lathers as it’s spread. You start from the centre of her back, rubbing gently in the section where the muscles of her shoulders meet and working your way outwards and upward to her shoulders. Then it’s down from there, your palms moving in small circles and covering every inch of skin.

“You’re good at this,” she mutters, watching with intent as your hands start to trail to her lower back. “Maybe you should’ve been a masseuse instead of a writer.”

“Uh… Patronising much?” You chuckle, watching as her back muscles twitch a little when you apply gentle pressure. “The pay’s about the same,” the soap makes patterns across the area above her ass—spirals of foam that stick to her skin like styrofoam flowers. “The hours are probably the same… But I don’t think I can live on rubbing someone’s back really hard. I Think I’ll just save this service for you, but only for when we meet.”

Humored, Wonyoung offers a giggle, high pitched and cutting above the sound of water striking the floor tiles. She shifts her weight to her right foot, making her body slant a little. Her skin is soft under your palms. Your hands are going lower and lower, slowly spiralling towards the curve of her ass that’s literally just a centimetre away.

“You know…If you take up my offer, you can do this for me everyday.”

Your hands slow to a stop. You raise your head a little to find her searching for your gaze over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“Yea.” Her voice is low, like a mother trying to persuade her child to eat their vegetables. “Every night, we can be like this: you soaping my back, us chatting… Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

Your lip furls behind your front teeth. “Yea… It really does.”

And in her gaze, you sense her sensing your apprehension. “What’s stopping you from taking it up then?”

(For context, here’s the deal proposed by her company: the two of you go public with the relationship, get clout for the company, and Starship will let you lead your lives together—no qualms, no disturbances. She can visit you whenever, live with you, appear outside together with you like it’s a regular Tuesday night; you get to date the girl you fell in love with all those years ago for real. Only issue: once you get the last stroke of your signature out on the contract, you practically agree to blurring the line between your private and public life. Press will be all over you like ants after you step on their nest, you probably won’t get to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace, everyone will suddenly want to curry favours with you… Was it worth the sacrifice?)

You find it hard to meet her eyes, and so your gaze affixes itself on your hands. It’s not like you don’t love her or anything, but your apprehension makes you feel like shit. It shouldn’t be this hard to say yes, yet the idea of selling your life of privacy to live a life with her makes you screech to a halt at the crossroads. Sometimes (in these moments), you wished that you didn’t always make decisions with your head and your heart. 

As the shower continues to run, Wonyoung slowly turns around. One hand finds yours, the other gently takes you by the chin and raises your eyes up to her. She’s tall, and the two of you are staring eye to eye; same height, different trains of thought.

The hand on yours guides you to her breast. Eyes locked with yours, she lays your palm flat against her tit. The skin beneath your fingers is slippery, but it doesn’t remove any of the familiarity from the sensation. Then she squeezes, and the flesh spills out between your fingers like putty. She gasps—airy. 

“Don’t you want me?” She whispers, and it’s raunchy more than anything. It isn’t aggressive, but it’s certainly blurring the line between demanding and caring. “Don’t you want to be able to fuck this pretty little pussy every night?”

She’s really far from home base. “Wony…”

“Don’t you love owning me?” She’s squeezing harder. Her knee twitches. Sopa’s spilling out of your fingers. You’re certain that you’re gonna mark her. She doesn’t care. “Don’t you want me all over you? Every night?”

“It’s not that Wonyoung.”

“Then what’s on your mind?” She’s not prodding for an answer, nor is she trying to demand a reason for your silence. She wants to understand you, to internalise what’s going on inside your head. You have no reason to lie.

“Will it all really be okay?” you ask sincerely. “My family, my life… Will… Will it all really be…”

She understands where you’re coming from (if the relieving of pressure around her own breast is any indication), and she’s starting to tune herself to the frequency of your worries. “If you’re wondering if you’re gonna be harassed—you won’t.”

“Yea but—”

“I promise you: I will do everything I can to make sure that you will be safe. You and your family–if so much as a finger is laid on any of you, I will quit.”

“Wonyo—”

“No one will intrude on you. You won’t have to live with the flashing lights. I give you my word: I will make sure that everyone who wants to invade your privacy will leave you alone. You and your family will all be left alone.”

If it’s possible for sincerity to ring clear, Jang Wonyoung has absolutely made it happen. Sweet like honey; she’s left you feeling like you had a spoonful of it. And just for good measure, she steps closer and repeats once more: “I promise.”

Considering that your hand was at the left side of her chest, this was really a “I swear. Hand to my heart” type of deal (whether it’s intended or not is purely up to your discretion). 

And as you gaze into those eyes, you want to remember the way she gazes at you softly, gently, tenderly. If it weren’t for your hand on her tit, you would’ve considered this one of the more tender moments you’ve shared with her. Not that it’s not or anything… Just that it’s a little hard to call this a loving moment when you can literally feel her nipple poking into the flesh of your palm at all times of the conversation.

“Are you sure you won’t land yourself in trouble?” you ask her, and she’s quick to scoff.

“Of course. I make too much fucking money fo those higher up fuckers to not listen to me,” she reminds you. 

Well… Then that settles about everything then.

“Okay,” you tell her. “Okay… I’ll do it.”

The corners of her lips play up in a smile. She leans in, kisses you—no tongue, closed mouth—and lets the hand keeping yours at her breast fall. Long arms wrap around your waist and she pulls you close, flushing her tight frame against your body. When lips part, she whispers a soft I love you, a sparkle in eyes that lingered for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Then—without you noticing—her hand snakes down and grips your rapidly hardening shaft, and she squeezes. This time, the line between demanding and caring is clear as day, and she’s chosen to play her ball to the court of demanding. With a gleam in her eye, she begins stroking with her closed fist, and she pumps your stiff length at a slow but steady rhythm, adding an occasional twisting motion to her wrist, corkscrewing her fingers around your cock, increasing the pleasurable shocks she was sending through your system with each pump of her hand. It was almost like she wasn’t the sweetest, loving girl in the whole world just two seconds ago.

“Jesus fucking…” You can’t even finish your sentence. Your teeth grit. Your fists clench. It’s hard to breathe. “Maybe… A little bit of a heads up next time?”

She smirks proudly, watching as you tilt your head back and let out a groan. “Where’s the fun in that?” And gently, she pushes against your chest, guides you to the wall. When your back presses against the cool tile, she presses herself against you. She leans in, hot breath on your skin, and then the feeling of her lips against your jaw almost makes you yelp. She kisses a path down your jaw, paves a way towards your neck to get cheeky: sucking, nibbling, licking the skin of your neck while she keeps the movement of her hands slow and considerate. The shower continues to run.

Do you know—she breaks contact with your skin for just a second—how fucking horny—her breath’s tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine—you make me?—and she squeezes a little harder around your shaft, not enough for it to hurt, but enough to feel you throb in your hand and make you gulp a little. She starts going faster—jerking, fucking pumping your length in her closed fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes open; your eyelids flutter shut. Your head rests against the wall, a sigh slipping past your lips. It’s filthy really—down from the way she catches you off guard to the way she makes your skin sore after she’s done feasting. Almost every interaction with her in a private space is as X-rated as this; it’s hard not to get into a situation like this around her. You know: a situation where the two of you are naked and getting really touchy and actively trying to get each other as many times as humanly possible. 

“Fuck yes baby…” you rasp, your nails starting to eat into your palms as she the sound of her hand sliding up and down your dick starts to cut above the steady stream of water. With each rise of her hand, the pad of her thumb plays with the head of your member, and when it sinks down, she twists her wrist in a screwing motion. Rinse and repeat; up and down and up and down and fuck. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

She hums in reply, and she has your earlobe between her teeth the next second, nicking you mischievously, sending small pricks of pain shooting through your system as she adjusts her grip on your cock without ever breaking her motion. Next thing you know, your tongue is inside your ear, and she’s leaning in so close that when you open your eyes, you’re practically looking over her shoulder, looking down the curve of her back that glistens with moisture and soap bubbles.

“I love this cock so fucking much,” she whispers, a bit of a hiss in her words as she takes the head of your cock between her forefinger and thumb and pinches lightly. “It stretches me out when I need it.” her fingers start to trail down your slipper shaft, letting the smoothness of her palm rub against your whole length, “fills me when I want it.” She’s milking the precum out of you, making you all leaky and squirmy as she starts pumping faster. “And it’s so fucking big that I can choke on it. You know how much I love being choked.”

She chooses that last bit to make eye contact with you, and she’s practically served you what she wants next on a silver platter. The next move is clear cut and simple; no words need be spoken. You were going to fuck her—and you mean properly fuck her—with a hand wrapped around that small throat. How you were gonna do it was still a mystery, but you figured that it’d slowly come to you, but it will definitely be related to the mirror and the sink outside and the mirror in front of it. At once, you reach over to the handle of the shower, and you turn it down to the handheld showerhead mode. Wonyoung bites her bottom lip, perverse glee painted all over her face as you use it to wash the soap off her back. She’s watching, waiting, probably drenched down there and aching to be stuffed full of cock.

She’s almost shaking with excitement as you finish washing all the soap off her body. You’d hardly consider her clean, but it won’t hurt to hop back into the shower again once you're done with her. The shower door swings open and you’re cupping her pussy, dripping wet while stumbling out with her, lips locked on hers and her hand on your cock as you push her against the sink of her hotel room. From the moment her mouth opens and let the moans pour out while you rub her clit to the moment her hand leaves your cock to cradle your face, she’s practically radiating need from the pores of her skin. You can’t help but playfully remark, “you’re such a fucking loser”, while your thumb thumps against her clit and sends pleasure tearing through her system. Weak in the knees, she holds on to you for support.

And the moans (those fucking hair-raising moans), they tumble out of those plump lips like marbles down a ramp, and they mix with the sound of your lips smacking against her skin as you start to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, doing to her what she did to you in the shower; you give her a taste of her own medicine, and the way she’s titling her head back to let you mark her freely makes it almost seem as if it’s the intended outcome of her actions. It’s like she knew that you would get back at her, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if you ever find out that she gets off on knowing that she can manipulate you in her own bratty ways—get you wrapped around her finger and have you doing all the things she wants you to do without having to tell you. Not that you have something to gripe about it, but you’re just so amused (and that’s just one word to describe how you feel) by how she goes about her ways.

“Come on,” she manages to whisper, all while you’re busy sucking on the skin just below her collarbone till it’s sore. She has a lot of pride in her voice for someone who’s quite literally quivering. “You know you want to fuck me. Give me a good creampie again.” 

You lift your head for a moment, and you take in the look of almost childlike excitement on her face as your hand finds its way to her throat. It’s perverse excitement, that lewd exhilaration of knowing that she was about to get what she wanted, and albeit a little messed up, it was pretty hot in its own way. When your fingers gently wrap themselves around her throat, you can feel every muscle in her body tense in anticipation, as if she didn’t get enough from the bedroom earlier.

“Up on the counter baby. Let me see how messy you are down there,” you whisper.

She knows what to do, and she has herself propped up on the counter and engaged in open mouth kissing. She doesn’t need you to tell her to spread her legs, and she definitely doesn’t need you to tell her how cute she sounds when your fingers slip inside of her, feeling around the mess you’ve made of her and coating your digits in her fluids. Your index and middle finger are slick with her juices when you retract them from inside her, and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Messy as ever,” you muse, making a show of sucking her juices clean off your fingers. She’s sweet and borderline tangy—a taste that you’re accustomed to, and you will never get tired of it. She’s biting down on her lower lip, the skin wrinkling under the pressure of her front teeth as she makes a sound that’s close to a purr. 

“You made the mess.” She has her eyes locked on yours as you raise an eyebrow, prompting her to follow up after her first statement. Not that you didn’t know what was coming, but more that you wanted to gently coax it out of her, because it was so fucking hot to hear what she had to say next. “You clean it up.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. She watches you with intent eyes as you sink down to your knees, waits with bated breath as you lower your face till the glistening, pink folds of her pussy are right in front of your face, flushed thighs around your ears. Her excitement is almost palpable, and you can hear the sharp inhale she takes when your palm finds its place on the inside of her left thigh, pushing gently to give you better access to her heat (you’re really just trying to drag out the tension if you were being completely honest with yourself). You lick your lips, lean forward till your mouth is hovering above her slit. 

“You better moan for me this time,” you tell her, and you’re making sure to make your breath hit her slick as you speak. “You have such a wonderful voice. Put it to use.”

Praise mixed with the slight hint of authority—it’s enough to make her nod furiously and implore you with doe eyes to just get on with it. With a smirk, your lips find the swollen nub at the top of her entrance. You suck on it. Hard. And almost at once, her thighs clamp around your ears and her hand is on your head, like it’s some sort of natural instinct for her when you’re eating her out. Keeping to her word, she cries out—keening, whiny and ever so fucking bratty, and it’s the the holy grail of every wet dream. Nothing in the world could bring you more satisfaction than that shrill, airy cry she lets out when the pleasure ripples through her body, and you’re just getting started. 

Your mouth opens and your tongue flattens itself against her folds, (She tastes so good. You want all of it, all of her) and you drag it up her folds, deliberately, painfully slow as you start to lick up that wet cunt. Her back arches; you can feel her struggling to keep a hold of your head; she throws her head back and lets out a gasp; her thighs clamp down a little harder around your head. The pleasure in her system builds up with the slow movement of your tongue, only rising and rising as you lick from the base of her slit to the mid section to the top. When the tip of your tongue flicks her clit, it's almost like an explosion, enough for her other hand to join its pair atop your head, enough to make her cry out in a perverse plea, “Daddy, please!”

(For the record: she’s wanted this from the moment you guys stepped into the shower. She’s willingly turned herself into some pliant little plaything, and she’s probably getting off so hard to it. Frankly, if she wanted to order you around, you’d be up to it, but this is what she prefers.)

And nothing else needs to be said really. You put your whole mouth on her—relishing the shiver that runs up from her thighs up to her body—and get right into making a wreck of her. You lick, you devour, you ravish her: working your mouth on her pussy, lapping up the juices that spill forth from flushed lips with broad, sharp strokes that make her body grow taut and her legs quiver. You tongue her clit, lick up sweet fluids, make her messy and needy and hot in all the right areas till she’s drilling her nails into the back of your scalp and pushing your face against her sweet slick. In half whispers, she tells you just how good you make her feel—oh Daddy I’m so fucking wet!—and you feel a dark part of yourself be fed by these lecherous words—Oh god oh fuck I’m gonna fucking cum if you keep… Fuck!—that leave her half-parted mouth and linger in the air, reminding you of just how wanton she is and how you’re the only person in the world she ever wants to fuck and be satisfied by. You’re hers; she’s yours—a relationship with Jang Wonyoung that any guy would kill for. 

“Daddy—” she gaps, her voice a whole octave higher than it should be as her nails turn into claws at the back of your head. “Fuck I’m cumming. Daddy I’m cumming!”

The pulsing of her pusy against your tongue grows. You continue licking, lapping. One stroke, two strokes—three. She moans, blue screens. You hazard a look up.

Nothing else matters. Only: the sight of that back arching off the marble counter, her thighs around your head trembling and quaking as her hips roll and her mouth parts in a silent scream. You’re certain that there’s blood being drawn from the back of your head, but you're more certain that she’s got enough heat in her core to melt molten iron but a lack of breath that makes her gasp for air as you lick and lick and lick your way into her. You can feel her orgasm getting closer by the second, it’s in her breathing, and in the way her hips are practically thrusting her into your mouth.

And just like the bathrobe from earlier, she comes undone—falls apart and ceases to keep control of her body. She tenses, her thighs go rigid around your ears. Her breath is caught in her throat, her eyes are closed. You stop your work, admire the way she glows as her body twitches and her face twists. Pleasure rips its way through her muscles, her nerves—splits her very being in half as the orgasm rolls through her system. She’s beautiful, and she’s a messy work of art that you’ve created. 

You rise to your feet as she winds down, and her hands leave your head to rest on the counter while her body struggles to process the aftermath of that orgasm. It’s not the first time she’s cum for the night, and it certainly won’t be the last. Her eyes open, and she instantly locs them on you as you brush back some of the hair that sticks to her sweat slicked face. You take her hand and give a gentle tug, and she slips off the counter obediently. You grip her jaw—tenderly but rough enough for her to like it—and tell her to turn around. Servile, she obeys, and in the reflection of the mirror, she watches as your hand snakes its way to her throat and grips it. You’re not squeezing, not yet. 

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now,” you drawl, gripping your shaft in your hand and slapping it against her slit. The contact makes her shudder, but she remains silent as you place a kiss on her cheek. “Your face is gonna be so pretty when I choke you and fill you.”

“Yes Daddy.” Her reply is a whisper, a borderline drawl that’s airy and raunchy and makes your hairs stand on their ends. She’s looking at you through the mirror, plump lips slightly parted and eyes glassy. “Own me. I’m yours, forever.”

And you’re all too happy to hear that from her.

You slip into her, hilt yourself inside her in one swift motion. 

(Tight. Hot. Wet. So tight.)

She lets out a sigh, low and sonorous, harmonising with your own groan as you press her against the edge of the counter and make the fingers around her throat squeeze. The sound that leaves her throat is the sound of her sigh being truncated, and it delights that dark part of you. Being inside Wonyoung was otherworldly, as it always was, but here, in the bathroom of her hotel, on the night where you’ve agreed to seal a deal with her, she felt downright heavenly.  She squeezes her walls around you, her body thankful for the sensation of being filled by cock, if the intense tightness and slick wetness were any indication; she looks over her shoulder and bites her bottom lip. And when she has your gaze, she mouths something. 

Fill me.

The silence is deafening, but it’s all you need to hear. 

When you withdraw your glistening shaft for the first time you relish in the feel of her walls gripping you, not wanting to release you—but just as quickly they welcome you back inside as you penetrate her again. Soon you are pumping in and out of her at a slow, steady pace, her soft gasps turning quickly into long, drawn out moans as she is fucked against the marble. Her hands steady her body against the counter, her back arched in a way that lets you get a wonderful top-down view of her breasts as they roll together with her body. It’s a concerted effort, but she makes it seem effortless. 

“Be honest.” With the hand around her throat, her voice sounds a little hoarse. It’s hot. “Do you think about this, Daddy? About fucking me like a good little slut?”

“Wonyoung,” you reply, speaking through your gritted teeth. “You have no,” and you punctuate the sentence there with a deeper thrust into her tight slick, a thrust strong enough for her to let out a strained gasp. “fucking idea…”

(In the mirror, you watch as she curls her lips into her mouth and tilts her head back into your shoulder, like she’s submitting her whole being to you and letting you take liberties with her body. You take the invitation, and your free hand finds itself on one of her soft mounds and gives it a squeeze—rough but tender enough to elicit a low moan from her throat that makes your hand around it vibrate pleasantly. 

At the given moment, she’s doing all she can to make herself a pretty little fuckdoll for you, doing her best to encourage you to treat her rough, treat her like you own her. She wants nothing more but to feel the rockhard meat penetrating her tight little cunt stretch her out and fill her the way she wants, all while she’s begging and pleading obsequiously while being obsessed with your cock. It’s a lot to take in for her for sure, but she gets off on it, and you get off on it too—the fact that she’s being all needy and pleading just so she can implicitly tell you to fuck her till she’s raw and can’t fucking walk the next morning. The fact that she’s actually in control while being such a bottom. Bratty manipulation.)

“Then fuck me Daddy,” she tells you, almost pleading. “Use this pretty little pussy. I want it. I fucking need it.”

With her invitation to do more with her body, you’re more than ready to do what you’ve intended to do from the very start. You increase your tempo, and before long you are truly fucking her, drilling in and out of the tight hot warmth of her body with quick, deep strokes. With each stroke you don’t pull out more than halfway—you concentrate instead on pumping hard and fast, getting as deep as you could inside her given your standing position. She takes it well, like she was made for this. In her world, this was what fucking looked like, and it was the only definition that she was going to live with and she’d take it to the grave. She indulges in the roughness, the almost animal-like way your cock fills her again and again and again, all while she encourages you with cries and moans and sighs that are music to your ears. 

And a notion hits you: she’s going to make you fuck her till she’s the only thing you can possibly think about. She’s going to draw out every single primal urge within you, make you want her like she’s some form of drug and you’re the abuser, and then she’s going to get exactly what she wants—your cum in her pussy. You can’t let her win like that, you can’t. You can tell that to yourself now, but you’re not sure if you can remember it later, not when she practically reeks of the strongest possible sillage of sex. 

Her pussy throbs around you, pulse strong and just a beat behind your thrusts as you thrust yourself in and out of her slick walls, filling her up and drawing yourself out before filling her up yet again. Pure filth spills from her mouth, expletives, sordid sighs and cries and any sound or word that comes to mind. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and from the mirror you enjoy the way she’s almost writhing in against the counter. Ample breasts bounce with each thrust that shocks her body, and it’s almost hypnotic if it weren’t for the fact that that pretty face was stealing the show. The face that was marvelled, the face that was the source of jealousy, the face that was on the face of so many magazines and posters and adored by millions, if not billions—scrunched up, improper and so fucking lewd that it looked like it belonged in a porno instead of an idols face, and you take pleasure in the fact that your cock is ruining the face of a princess, turning her dissolute and so fucking needy that she was as good as a fan begging her for an autograph. This side of her was reserved for you, and only you—her duality is reserved for your eyes only. 

Her body is slick with sweat, rubbing against your own sweaty torso while her body rolls together with your thrusts. “Fuck—” you’re saying, but it comes out as more of a growl than anything given how hard yur teeth are clenching. Your fingers squeeze tighter around her throat. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her pussy to clench even tighter around you—and the added tightness brings succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you’re going insane. You probably are at this rate. “This pussy. It’s so fucking good baby.”

Her reply is a strained gasp, but you get the gist of what she wants to say. She wants, so badly, to tell you how good your cock is making her feel, how well it fucks her, how well it fills her and stretches her and how it’s her favourite thing in the whole world. The squelch of your cock filling her pussy is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the smacking of skin against skin as you press more of your weight against her, pushing her a little more into the corner of the counter and a little more over the line of pathetic. She moans in response to your actions, and it’s telling you: fuck. Harder. It’s better when it hurts. 

And you can feel her juices leaking down the back of her thighs, wetting your crotch and making the smack of skin against skin louder than ever, almost as if it was an announcement: I’m being fucked like a good little slut and I love it. She doesn’t know what she’s doing to you,and for clarity, it’s something along the lines of turning you absolutely feral with her moans and the divine tightness of her pussy that makes you want to cum on the spot. Okay,maybe she is cognizant of how crazy she makes you when you fuck her, but you barely have the capacity to think, let alone rationalise wether thai girl in your arms that your chocking and fucking feel smug in knowing that she’s driving you insane. 

Oh and she loves it when you play with her tits. The way you fondle them is almost aggressive. Scratch that—it’s really fucking aggressive. You’re slapping her tits, leaving red marks all over the milky white skin and pinching and twisting the stiff nubs atop her breasts, all while she mewls and cries out in that strained voice that makes you throb even harder inside of her wet walls and makes you grit your teeth like your a dog waiting to chew on a bone. 

“D-Daddy,” she pushes out, past the fingers that close her airways and past her groans and moans and sighs. “Harder.” And your thrusts are starting to cut her off, but she has more to say. When it comes out, each word that she spits out is punctuated by a thrust of cock into her pussy, and it’s the hottest thing you’ll ever hear. 

Fuck.

You thrust deep inside her. 

Me.

Your cock drives itself deep into her, slicking itself with her juices.

Harder.

And if words could linger in the air, hers certainly would. 

You fuck her hard, and fast, and deep—hammering her into the counter, nailing her defenseless pussy with a pace that you would have thought was rough and callous were it not for the fact you knew this was exactly how she wanted it. All she can do is hang on, grasp onto the counter with a knuckle-white grip with her hands as you take your liberties with her body, fucking her as hard as you can, as deeply as she can take it. The cups on the counter shake, the toothbrush inside one of them shaking under the force. It’s loud,  but you hear none of it. You hear only the sharp sighs of pleasure that leave Wonyoung’s lips, and the wet slap slap slap of your crotch as it hammers her cunt again and again and again, your cock drilling her, pounding her, making her yours if you weren’t already doing that.

It takes a little long, but the haze of lust parts for a moment for you to realise that you're getting closer and closer to getting what she wants out of you. While the thought of burying yourself inside of that quivering, pulsing pussy to let it milk every last drop of cum from you is ever so enticing, that small part of you that wants to own her pushes you to fight against the urges. Not that there’s any harm in giving her what she wants, but it’s just that you don’t want to reward her bratty, manipulative tactics. She knew for a fact that she could tie you up and ride you over and over till you were dry—she’d done it before. But instead, she’s chosen to fulfil her needs in a less direct manner, maybe for fun or maybe just because she felt like it. 

“Yes,” Wonyoung hisses, spit flying into the mirror and her palms slipping on the counter. “Just like this Daddy.” And she’s making sure to make eye contact with you through the mirror, letting her eyes do most of the talking. If anyone’s curious, the look she gives you is saying, I’m your good little slut. Fuck me. Use me. Fill me. Please, and it's nothing short of hot and tethering far over the line of lewd. At this point, neither of you are in a state where you're capable of coherent thought, nor are you capable of thinking about anything else except each other’s bodies and the wet, lewd squelching of cock filling Wonyoung’s pussy. It goes on and on and on, a cycle of your hips hammering the back of her legs and your cock spearing deep into her cunt.  She takes it so well, drinking you in hungrily, coiling around your shaft like a snake as if it was begging for you to stay in her forever. The sight is enough to make your balls tingle and your toes curl, and your hand around Wonyoung's throat tightens to the point where the only thing that can leave her lips is a groan as her airflow is reduced. 

She’s tighter, hotter, wetter. Her pussy fits you like a glove, moulding around your cock as it pumps in and out of her at a pace that you had no idea you were capable of. The hand around her neck is nothing but an outlet of pleasure for you, and she’s loving it. “Such a good girl,” you mutter, watching from the mirror as her mouth slacks and opens while she’s being pumped full of cock. “You were made to take Daddy’s cock, weren’t you?”

Her equivalent of a yes is a sharp, strained groan—an amalgamation of phonics and whatever sounds the lack of air flowing to her throat permits her to make. She’s so fucking messy down there, and your cock is sliding in and out of her with ease, aided by her slick juices that coat your shaft and let it disappear and reappear from between her legs with ease. The motion is almost graceful if it weren’t for the fact that it was a sordid one, and you take a moment to admire the way your shaft glistens in the light of the bathroom while you fuck her the way she wants it: rough, hard and tethering over the edge of callous. If it weren’t for the hand around her throat, she’d be making herself hoarse with all the moaning she’d be doing.

And the hand around her throat is bringing her so much pleasure, if the way her pussy squeezes around you when you choke her is any indication. She wasn’t lying when she said she liked being choked. While she didn’t like gagging on your cock, she sure as hell loved it when your fingers clasped around the muscles and made her gasp. She liked the sensation of being deprived of air, be it when she was riding or when she has her kness buried into her shoulders and was being fucked into the bed like a slut. You were always afraid of hurting her, but when she shots you that look, the one that says, come on, you can do better, you know that she’s getting exactly what she wants, just the way she likes it. It was just a matter of how hard you squeeze around her throat before she either cums or passes out, though the latter has rarely happened before the former.

“Daddy!” she chokes, and you know exactly what she’s about to say next. So you release her throat from her grasp, bunch a lock of her hair in your closed fist and you pull back. Her eyes squeeze themselves shut. Her back arches deliciously, her voice now free to finish shat she’s aching to announce. “I’m fucking…”

You never expect her to finish her sentence. Wonyoung’s eyes open, and a gasp leaves her open lips. Her walls, already vice-like, tighten so hard around you that you think you might come there and then. You feel how close she is. 

“Fucking cum for me, Wonyoung. Cum around my cock like a good little slut.”

Wonyoung does as she is told—and the quivering, trembling orgasm she experiences is almost frightening in the way it overwhelms her body, turning her into a wet, hot mess. Her pussy tightens and pulsates, her fingers claw against the marble counter, and her entire lower body shakes violently, as though she had lost control of her nerves and muscles. For a few beautiful seconds she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your grasp, breathing heavily. 

It's good. It's so good, but it's not quite enough to get you to your finish. Not yet.

(And if anyone’s asking: it’s not that the sex isn’t good. It’s mind blowing, amazing, and whatever word that can be used to describe “fucking incredible”.  She’s hot, so tight and fucking soaked down there. You’re horny, throbbing and on the verge of filling her full of your seed. But you’ve said it before and you’ll say it again—you’re not rewarding bratty manipulation. As tempting as it would have been to simply pound her from behind until you gave her needy pussy the load of semen she so desperately wanted, you knew that there was something even better that you could do.)

You pull out of Wonyoung, your shaft glistening under the hotel light. Her eyes are wide with shock as you withdraw yourself from her body, pulling her away from the counter—but only enough to have her lean back against you and not stand up completely. Her mouth opens to say something, but she's interrupted when you turn her face to you and kiss her. She moans into your mouth, and you swallow it, your tongue slipping into her mouth and massaging her own, lapping at the roof of her mouth as her tongue swirled around your own. You bite her lower lip, and it's not rough, but enough to get her attention. When her eyes flutter open, you whisper, "I'm not finished."

She nods, and you relish the disappointment in her eyes. You turn her around, push down gently on her shoulders. She goes with the motion, and you're not sure if you can ever get over the image of Wonyoung on her knees with her pretty little face staring at you with anticipation. You think about fucking her face, letting your cock thrust into the back of her throat over and over and over till you finally bury yourself inside and cum down her throat, but that would just be a repeat telecast of every other night with her. Spice things up; give her the liberty of creativity with your cock. 

And of course, Wonyoung perfectly understands what has to be done. You step up to her. She parts her lips and takes your cock right into her mouth. Grasping the base of your cock and pumping it with one hand while she gently cups and squeezes your balls with the other, Wonyoung quickly launches into a hard and fast blowjob, taking the top half of your cock in and out of her wet mouth with a rapid pace while her fingers work your shaft in a corkscrew motion, just like she did in the shower. The suction of her mouth is almost lethal, and the audacity she has to look up at you while she takes your cock in and out of her mouth is so exhilarating that it makes you weak in the knees. Your hand finds a clump of her sweaty hair, and you close your fingers around it, holding them in your fist. No, you weren’t going to push her head down onto your cock; you had to give her the space to work on her craft. 

And of course, she exceeds every expectation out there. Your eyes shut involuntarily, your brain unable to handle any sensations beyond the wet, hot cavern of Wonyoung’s mouth sealed tightly around your shaft with tight, soft lips. With the first entry into her mouth her wet tongue is pressed tightly against the underside of your shaft, lathering it with her spit. With each subsequent entry her tongue becomes more adventurous, beginning with quick swipes left and right on your shaft with each entry and ending each exit with a swirl of the tip around the head of your cock. While she tastes herself on your cock, letting her juices mix with saliva, her hands work in perfect concert with her mouth, one joining her lips at your shaft and pumping up and down, a twisting motion to her wrist while her free hand works gently with your dangling balls, fondling them with considerate fingers. She plays with them softly yet hastily, her fingertips working their magic between the sacs with expert attention.

You are content to stand there with your eyes shut, simply enjoying the feel of your cock pumping in and out of her mouth at a fervent pace, but a small part of you knew that you had to see it happening in order to truly believe it was all real—and so with a not insignificant amount of self-control, you force eyes open to watch the spectacle unfolding between your legs. Black locks bob up and down frantically above your cock, doe-like eyes glazed with pure lust staring right up at you as her cheeks hollow and her jaw unhinges even more to accommodate your length. 

It all becomes too much, and it hits you all at once—having her pump your shaft in the shower, eating her out then fucking her—and you quickly find yourself nearing that inevitable peak.

“Fuck, Wony—” is all you manage to say before your orgasm overtakes your world.

Wonyoung releases your cock from her mouth a split second before you erupt, shooting long, thick strands of hot semen all over her pretty little face. Her face glazes over in pleasure and you are all too happy to watch as strand after strand of cum lands on her cheeks, her pretty little nose, and finally her open mouth and jaw. You watch, through half-lidded eyes drunk with pleasure, as the thick streams of cum flow down her face, dripping onto her upper chest and those perfect breasts of hers. Her face is flushed and her mouth open, as though she herself was on the verge of orgasm (she probably was, and she was going to make it your problem as soon as she got your cum off her face).

You want to remember the way she wipes your cum off her face with the back of her hand, how she licks it all up like a cat licking its own paw before moving to clean the stray strands of cum off the tip and sides of your cock. You want to remember how she rises so gracefully even though she was a sweaty mess, and how she gently takes your hand and guides you back into the shower for another clean up.   

And back under warm water, you want to remember how she kisses you, and how she whispers, “next time, I want that big load in my pussy.”

*

“What?”

And it’s hard to meet Wonyoung’s eyes as you set down the papers from the doctor. You can feel her confusion, her frustration, her rage from across the dining table in your apartment. It isn’t pretty. Nothing about this situation is. 

“It’s a neurological disease,” you tell her, all while you’re looking at the MRI that’s in the middle of the table. You’re really just regurgitating what the doctor told you—it’s the only thing you have the capacity to do right now. “They ran their tests. They told me what I suspected. I’m losing my ability to read and write, to understand language. In 2 years—give or take —I won’t be able to express my thoughts. I’ll be spouting gibberish. What people say, what I see — on pages, street signs, everywhere — they’ll all be unintelligible to me.” She’s silent, and it unnerves you in every way possible. You haven’t even gotten to the worst part of it all. “My mental competence will deteriorate. I’ll have to live off a tube cause I’ll forget how to eat and drink. Dementia will follow shortly.”  

Now would be a great time for her to say something, anything to break this silence. But she is silent, unmoving and reticent in her seat from across you. You have no choice but to gulp and deliver, in your personal opinion, the worst part of it all, “By the time I forget how to breathe I… I would’ve lost all my memories by then.”

She chooses the moment after the last word leaves your mouth to pick up the MRI scan and look at it. 

“So… Everything we’ve built up till now will just… Disappear?” she whispers. She sounds hurt, scared and everything in between. You bite your lower lip. 

“Yes.” There’s no point sugarcoating it, it’s inevitable anyway. Face it now, sulk later… You think that’s the best way to deal with this piece of news. You hope that the matter-of-fact tone of voice that you’ve chosen doesn't betray how frightened you are by the prospect of losing everything you know. “We can’t stop it. It’s in my genes.”

She sets down the scan, and when you look up, you see the tears flowing down her cheeks and it makes you want to cry as well.

She stands up, shoulders her handbag and walks towards the front door. 

“Where are you—” you begin. “I’m going somewhere else to think,” she interjects. 

When she slams the door behind her, you feel like you’ve let her down in so many ways. There’s a burning in your chest that you can’t describe. The first hot tear rolls down your cheek, and you let the rest that well in your eyes flow down without resistance. 

You don’t want to remember what it feels like to be helpless—the emptiness, the rage, the sadness, the confusion is all so overwhelming. But you figure that you’ll have to feel it again at some point down the road. 

Might as well figure out how to cope with it now, when Wonyoung isn't there and you're all alone with your thoughts.

*

When you awaken later that night in your bed in the apartment, it takes you a few moments to determine whether the soft, slim body climbing atop you is real or part of some wonderful dream—but the familiar warmth of your girlfriend, and the soft, pleasant smell of her hair, convinces you that this was all real.

Wonyoung places soft kisses on your neck and jawline, before moving to your mouth and kissing your lips softly. You are still only half awake, but your senses and instincts take over, and you find your mouth welcoming her kiss and returning it with one of your own, your hands moving to either side of her hips and finding, to your surprise, that there was only bare skin there and no clothing.

“Wony…” you begin, as she deepens her kiss, her lips pressing more firmly against yours.

“Shhh,” she answers, “please. I need this. I need you, right now. Please.”

She’s suddenly reappeared after walking out on you, and you have yet to process the slew of emotions that have come your way. Part of you wants to stop her, to talk things out with her so that you could: a) figure out if she was still mad at you and; b) verify that she wasn’t drunk. But the part of you that formed the majority of your conscience knew that she needed comfort as much as you did, and that she needed something to assuage her and make her feel like everything would turn out alright. So you find yourself relaxing underneath her, letting her scent fill your nostrils as her tongue dances with yours.

She straddles you, and your hands begin to run up her naked body, up from her slim thighs to her chest where the ample mounds sat proudly, her nipples erect and stiff. She isn’t wearing any underwear, and your fingers brushing against the slick of her pussy is enough to verify that for you. She’s naked atop of you, kissing you like you just confessed your love to her or like you’re about to go on some mission and never return. It’s not lustful, but it’s full off passion and aims to soothe not stir. 

She breaks the kiss. Her eyes flutter open. In the dark that is pierced by the street lights of the city, you want to remember the way her eyes glimmer and shimmer as she breathes heavily. There’s no alcohol on her breath, and from the way she’s cradling your face, you can infer that she’s not mad at you in the slightest. 

“You okay?” she whispers, and her tone is soft and warm, like that time she spoke in the shower of her hotel about signing that contract with her company so that the two of you could officially start dating. It’s been some time after that, but you still hang on to the way her words made their way to your heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you if I did.”

You respond by nodding, and it’s enough to convey: I’m alright. You brush away the hair that falls in front of her eyes, and you really want to remember how silky smooth her hair feels in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” you ask her, making sure to keep your tone as warm as her own. She blinks, goes silent for a moment, then answers, “I’m making amends.”

She holds your gaze, you hold hers. The staring contest ends when you gently pull her in for another kiss, and you want to remember how she softly moans into your mouth while her thumb, smooth and tender, caresses your cheek.

When the kiss breaks again, her hands snake their way down to your sweats. You assist her in removing your shorts—a very clumsy affair: tangled hands and arms and lots of chuckling. But your cock does finally spring out from your boxers, the ones that have been discarded in the corner of the bed, together with her clothes. When it’s all done, you have the pleasure of witnessing the sight of her slim frame straddling you once more, long legs surrounding you on either side of your thighs while she peppers kisses on your chest. 

“I’m sorry I left you to deal with… Everything. Alone.”  she begins, “I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that… I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t angry”

And from your lying position, you lift a hand to cup her cheek. “We can talk later.”

She gets the message, but bends down and kisses you nonetheless. You’d probably have trouble falling asleep later in the night, and she’d wake up and you’d have this same conversation again. You’d rather have it later than now, not when the wound is still fresh.

Wonyoung lets a soft smile play on her lips. You are slightly aware of her raising her hips, her right hand finding its way between your bodies to grasp your wet, erect shaft, and line it up with her entrance. She breaks the kiss for the third time that night, searches your eyes for approval to continue with this. Was it make up sex? You didn;t know if it was for sure, but it sure as hell felt like it. What you do no for certain is: you’d like to experience this now, and you want to etch this in your memory for as long as you can before it fades with the rest of your mind. 

You give her the slightest of nods, and you feel the head of your cock press against her wet, tight opening. Slowly, carefully, Wonyoung lowers herself down onto your shaft, your cockhead parting her tight lips to impale her pussy. She gasps loudly as she impales herself fully, and she opens her eyes slightly to match your gaze. You brush stray locks of hair away to reveal her face fully, and you bring her mouth back to yours to kiss her deeply. As your tongues duel, she begins to raise her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before lowering it once more, and soon she has found a soft, slow rhythm as she rides you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours. 

She raises herself upright and lets her hands rest on top of your chest. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes closed, lips slightly parted and the wisp of a smile on her lips as she rocks her hips. From where you lie, you watch as Wonyoung takes you in and out of her body with soft grinding motions, riding you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft as it fills her over and over in slow, tender strokes that make her shiver. You watch as your shaft appears for a split second or so before driving back into her, each disappearance accompanied by a soft spike of pleasure. As always, she’s letting moans and sighs and gasps tumble freely from half-parted lips as she takes you in and out of her slowly, rocking her hips with innate grace and elegance. All you do is let your hands rest on her thighs, moaning softly to encourage her as she rides you lovingly, tenderly, a far cry from what you’re used to when it comes down to sex with Jang Wonyoung. 

Through the night, your cock glides in and out of that perfect pussy, elicits moans and gasp and sighs and cute little cusses when you hilt yourself deep inside of her and tug a little at her hair. Her hands were always active, sometimes caressing your chest, sometimes on your jaw, sometimes behind your head as she snaked an arm behind your head to keep you locked where you were just so she could sneak in a kiss. You came in her mouth, her ass, her pussy. She came on your fingers, your cock, your mouth. She cussed a lot, almost passed out once or twice. You cussed a lot two, and you caught her when she almost rolled off the bed (the two of you laughed for a minute about that situation before you ended up spooning on the floor, her leg in the air and your cock pumping in and out of her while she had your back to you and your face in her right hand). 

Bottom line: it was wonderful, wonderful make up sex that ended with both of you sweaty and panting and wanting more from each other but you guys just don’t have that energy to keep going. It was a novelty for both of you, and you wanted to remember just how special she could make you feel, even in the impurest of acts. 

*

The flash of the polaroid camera is almost blinding, but you power through and keep your eyes open. Like a child that’s seeing snow for the first time, Jang Wonyoung watches excitedly as the polaroid emerges from the slot in the camera, and she’s all too eager to grab it and lay it face down on the coffee table in your apartment.

“I thought you’re supposed to shake it?” you ask, watch as she fiddles with the camera for a little bit before she snaps a selfie with her newest purchase. She gives you a look that basically translates to, “uh, are you dumb?” and waits for the next polaroid to emerge from the slot before she launches into her lecture. 

“Shaking the polaroid to make it develop faster is a myth,” the way she sounds so official and everything is so cute. You can’t help but smile a little as she sets the other polaroid down. “It shifts the pigments and blurs the photo, but an idiot like you would need a genius like me to tell that to you.”

The remark is clearly meant to be biting, but it’s nothing short of hilarious to you. “When did you become a camera nerd?”

“Ever since I got this,” she lifts the polaroid camera up and hits you with that you’re on camera smile. “Maybe I should do an ad for this brand. Increase their sales, you know?”

She leaves you to think on that and retrieves the first polaroid she took: a picture of you and her on the couch of your apartment. Not the grandest first photo, but hey, a memory is a memory, and you really are just focusing on cherishing those at the moment. As she leaves the couch to clip the polaroid onto the photo rack (a bunch of metal wires on a metal frame with wooden clips to hold photos) she just set up, you grab your journal next to you and flip it to the page you wrote on a few hours before. With your pen (that you now carry around just about everywhere with your journal), you scribble down a new part of today that you want to remember. It was her idea to journal down everything you wanted to remember. 

The entry goes right under the one about Wonyoung’s new camera.

She looks so happy with that new camera. Bet she’s going to go back to the dorm and show it off to all of her members because she’s a fucking child. I hope that…

And you trail off in your writing, What you wanted to say was just on the tip of your tongue just a second ago. Why can’t you remember it? It was literally just in your head a minute ago…

No. 

You shut the journal. It makes a soft yet substantial thud as the leather cover slaps against pages. You place your pen in your pocket, set the journal back down on the couch and stand up to walk towards your girlfriend, who is currently adjusting the angle that the wooden clip holds the polaroid at. She senses you walking up to her, steps aside and makes a space for you to watch her struggle. You would offer help, but you know that it removes half the fun for her when you do something for her. 

She fiddles around a little more, makes a couple of grunting sounds under her breath, curses a little, and next thing you know, she exclaims, “tada!” while pointing at the first occupant of the photo rack. You roll your eyes, throw an arm over her shoulder and look at the slightly blurry photo within the white frame. 

“With the camera,” she tells you, her tone soft and warm like… Like… Fuck. “I hope that we can help our memories live on. Sounds pretty deep huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle in agreement. You take a moment to stare at the two faces that occupy the space in the polaroid, and you hope to God that they will never, ever look foreign to you. It’s a futile prayer, you know, but a glass-half-full mentality is the best chance you have at not spiralling out of control. 

Wonyoung lays her head on your shoulder, silent and all sentimental as she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She lets out a shuddering sigh, and you know that she’s trying not to cry, cause in this situation she’s the one that will end up hurt at the end of it all. You’ll forget the pain of forgetting; she’ll remember the pain of being forgotten. It sucks, but it’s just the way it is. You hug her, hold her close and stroke her hair. You don’t want to forget what she means to you, what you mean to her.

How many more polaroids left till it all ceases to matter?

____________________

Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this fic. I'm a bit rusty so this one might be a bit funny, but hopefully the style of storytelling I chose didn't fuck you up too bad. Non-linear storytelling will be the death of me. Also: I kinda didn't edit this one too much. My bad hehe.

This was really more of a PSA to cherish the ones you hold close to you, because you never know when they will just disappear. Love the people close to you, cherish them forever.

~Lots of love Nichuuu

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

──── JAKE'S THING . ↳ one shot // also part of the no doubt series !

✎ᝰ .ᐟ aka when you realize exactly what jake's thing is.

── sim jaeyun x f!reader ౨ৎ wc. 566 ⌗ fluff, y/n makes fun of jake, jake LOVES y/n,,,yadda yadda what's new...

↳ IMPORTANT NOTE .ᐟ ── this is part of my no doubt series ─ a sequel series of short drabbles that take place after the events of my fic no doubt, and show jake & reader's relationship throughout their first year together (& how jake wins her trust & love back hehe) ── THIS CAN BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT, however, there will be some easter eggs if you've read no doubt before!

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── this one is short & sweet,,,a preemptive apology for the next one...it won't be as fluffy that's for sure (that's my spoiler .) hehehe i'll post the next one sooner since this one is quite short :)

Jake does this thing.

It’s a small thing.

Barely even worth noticing.

But you notice.

Of course you do.

Because it’s Jake.

You’re at a party. A big one—one of those industry events that Jake frequently gets invited to. Filled with producers, idols, people you’ve really only ever seen on screens. The kind of event he hypothetically should be thriving in—music pumping through the walls, flashing lights, and endless people he should be schmoozing the hell out of.

And yet—

Jake is right next to you.

Still next to you.

Unmoving.

“Shouldn’t you be talking to people?” you murmur, eyeing at him over the rim of your drink. “This is, like, prime mingling real estate.”

Jake hums thoughtfully, blinking before glancing around like he just remembered where he is.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I guess.” A shrug. Then an easy smile. “But I’d rather be here. With you.”

Your stomach flips traitorously. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the small quirk of your lips, “I know I’m great company and all, but you don’t have to babysit me. I’ll find Jungwo—”

“I’m not,” he insists, tilting his head at you with a simple grin, like the answer is obvious. “I’m just…staying where I’m happiest.”

You choke slightly on your drink—to his amusement.

“That’s stupid,” you mutter once you recover, feeling your cheeks burning.

Jake fakes a gasp from beside you, “Loving my girlfriend is stupid?”

“You're so silly, Sim Jaeyun."

“And yet, here I am,” he sing-songs, bumping his shoulder against yours. “Next to you. Choosing you. Again and again.”

Your chest tightens.

Because—

It’s true.

You think back—to all the late-night drives when he lets you pick the playlist—even though you play the same five songs on loop and he probably secretly hates it. To how he always goes twenty minutes out of his way just to stay over at yours, even though it means waking up at an ungodly hour in the morning for practice—just so he can end every night and start every morning with you. To how he will always carry a hoodie on him whenever you’re together—because he knows you never check the weather app and the slightest breeze gets you cold.

To how he always—always—shows up.

Quietly. Consistently.

Just Jake.

Your Jake.

Your Jake—and that’s why you notice it. Jake’s thing—

Jake chooses you.

Every time.

Not just in the big, grand gestures. But in quiet, certain ways. Ways so soft, they’re like a whispered secret shared only between the two of you.

Like now—

Standing here, in the middle of a room filled with important people. People who could elevate his career. People who could change his life. And yet—

He’s looking at you like you’re the only future he’s interested in building.

Like you’re the only person worth knowing.

You laugh under your breath, tilting your head to hide the sudden burn behind your eyes—because if you keep looking at him you might just combust.

And when you glance back—Jake’s already watching you, patient and warm. Like he’s been waiting for you to catch up to the thing he’s always known.

You set your drink down.

You step closer.

And you grab his hand—intertwining your fingers with his, anchoring yourself to the feeling you now know by heart.

Jake doesn’t say a word.

He just squeezes your hand, twice—

Once for hi.

Once for I love you.

Like he always does.

Like he always will.

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[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!

Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.

Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!

Gojo Satoru

„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”

You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…

“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.

“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”

A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?

“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.

Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-

“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.

You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…

“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”

“I swear if you slap your d-“

“Look at me!”

His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.

And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.

“Now watch.”

With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.

“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.

“Go ahead babe.”

“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”

He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.

“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.

“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.

“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”

Nanami Kento

“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”

You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.

…Just like your legs.

“You’re daydreaming again.”

You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.

“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.

You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…

“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”

He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…

“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm”, you blurt out.

His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-

“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”

Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.

And your merciless gaze.

“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”

You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.

Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.

Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.

“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.

“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.

Toji Fushiguro

“You want me to do what?”

You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?

“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.

“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”

“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.

“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”

Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.

“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.

“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.

“Promise we’ll fu-“

“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.

His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.

“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.

It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.

But still…

You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.

“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.

Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.

“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.

“Let’s do that again.”

“I know something better.”

All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.

“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.

Bonus: Sukuna

“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.

“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”

“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”

“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.

Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.

“Really deep down”, he grumbles.

“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.

“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“

“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”

Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.

“Did you film this, brat?”

You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.

“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.

“Delete that right now!”

“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”

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[defmaybe]

Arrangement

fromis_9’s Lee Seoyeon x Male Reader

1.4k words

A/N: Edited by the greats @midnightdancingsol and @prael! So, huge credits to those two! Thanks for reading!

—

“I mean, you didn’t do too bad in your exams. You were above the average!” Seoyeon smiles, rotating her chair from side to side. Her raven black shirt looks better than ever on her.

“I always strive to be better, Miss Lee,” you answer, giving her a shy smile.

“Have you considered tutoring a friend? It’s a good way to learn! And we really do want to reserve the tutors for the trailing students. Sorry.” She smiles. You can sense her sympathy in it.

You sigh, let down by her denial.

An idea pops up in your head, though.

“How about you, Miss Lee? Can you be my tutor for these finals, please?”

Seoyeon tilts her head just a little, but enough to let you know that she’s intrigued by the idea. “Me?”

“Yes, Miss Lee. You.”

She chuckles. “As much as I want to do that, it’s against the rules of the university to tutor your own students.”

“Please, Miss, I mean they don’t have to kno–”

“Whoa, whoa, that’s my job on the line here, mister.” Seoyeon stops you. Her voice is stern.

“Maybe just some notes, perhaps, doesn’t have to be a face-to-face thing, please?”

Seoyeon laughs. “Wow, I do admire your determination, but I really can’t. I’m sorry.”

Yeah, it’s over.

Again, you sigh, surrendering to the fact that you won’t find anyone to tutor you. “Okay, see you later then.”

You get up from your seat, leaving. Guess you’d have to rely on the Indian guys on YouTube again.

“Perhaps we can have an arrangement?” suddenly says Seoyeon.

You stop in your tracks, looking back to see her determined gaze.

“Arrangement, Miss?”

“Yes, arrangement.” She bites her lip. It’s enough to get you going. “I mean, they wouldn’t know, right?”

And she stands up.

You are frozen in the spot while she walks. Every stride is made with purpose, and they seem designed to make your mind wonder. From her wide-legged pants to that black shirt, it all fits her so fucking well. She looks at you with purpose, like a predator eyeing on their prey. Even a child could work out who is who.

“I can tutor you, but in exchange,”–she pulls her cuff back, revealing more of her skin–“you have to fuck me, brainless.”

It’s a good offer, actually, but you can’t just give in so easily. Your pride is at stake (kind of, you just don’t want to look like another man who’d say yes to sex at the first opportunity). “And why do you think I’d say yes to that, Miss Lee?”

“I mean, sure, assuming that you’d fold is premature, to say the least,” she coos, looking into your eyes.

“But with the way you’ve been looking at me for these past few months.”

Fuck.

“And I can’t help but think,”—her hand lands on your crotch, biting her lip, god, what a sight—“what wild fucking fantasies you’re having with me.”

You moan in response to her touch. The pleasure is seeping through your whole body.

“I–I do,”—and she squeezes your crotch once more—“ngh, have a lot of fantasies with you.”

“Show me, then. Shove this cock into my cunt, and I’ll get that A for you.”

You undo your pants as quickly as she undoes hers. They both fall to the ground simultaneously, sending the clunking sounds of your belts hitting the floor through the office. Your erection springs free at the sight of her bare, unshaved pussy on display. Her slit is slicked in arousal.

“C’mere, baby. Show me what you got.”

Seoyeon steps backwards and sits on her table, spreading her legs wide to give you the image of her cunt, so ready to grip your cock like a vice.

“And you’re going to tutor me after this, right?”

“If you can make me cum with you,” she says, fingers splaying her core for your access. “You get to cum inside me, either way. I’ve always been on the pill.”

You take steps towards Seoyeon. Your tip gets closer to her tightness every second. It’s closer, it’s closer, until your hands touch her knees.

“Your hands are so soft, baby.”

“Thanks, Miss Lee.”

She chuckles. It’s so cute when she smiles like this, shame that you’re going to wipe it away for at least the next few minutes—with her being a moaning mess and all.

It’s so, so, languid—the way your cock disappears into her wanton cunt. Her mouth hangs open in pleasure. Her hands grip onto the edge of the table tighter than ever. “Hah–hah, f–fuck, i–it’s pretty big, baby.”

“T–Thanks, ah, M–Miss Lee.”

She grips onto you so tightly with her velvety walls. It feels like heaven, the way her cunt welcomes you. You want to cherish this moment forever. And with a few inches more, you’re buried deep inside her.

“At the hilt, right?”

“Y–Yes, miss.” you stammer.

“A–Alright, fuck me slow and hard, okay? Take every stroke like you mean it,” commands Seoyeon.

“Okay, Miss L–Lee.”

And with that, you drag your cock back, out of her, before thrusting yourself back into her needy cunt again. Both of you moan in unison. She’s so fucking gorgeous with her mouth hanging open like this. It’s as if you’re enjoying the fact that it’s you that’s making her a flushing, moaning mess like this.

“G–God, you’re so, so big, sweetie. I wish I have your cock just for myself.”

You can do nothing but whimper, and you watch your length reappear out of her again. “Ngh.” Before plunging yourself back into her wetness.

“Pick up that tempo, baby, pick–it–up.”

And it becomes like clockwork. You thrust yourself back and forth, in and out of her wanting, wet cunt. Seoyeon’s face and inner thighs become beet red, so long lost in the pleasure you’re giving her. You’re no better, feeling the heat pooling in your cheeks. You’re as excited about this as she is.

“God, god, yes, you’re hitting the spot, baby,” screams Seoyeon. Someone must’ve heard that.

The table creaks and cries with each of your hammering. Stationeries and papers fall down to the floor, all in disarray—reports, pens, recommendation letters.

As the tempo picks up, sweat drips from her forehead. And as if it’s innate, you stick out your tongue to taste her fluid. Salty. Tangy. Robust.

“Freaky, are we?”

“Y–Yes, miss.”

Her walls are gripping onto you so, so hard. You can explode any minute, but you’ll have to hold on, for her. Your moans are filling the room right now, added with the smell of sweat and sex. The head of your cock finds its way to stimulate her insides, grazing the spot where it makes her a mess. She keeps reaching high notes with each thrust you take.

You swear she looks so ethereal, being filled with your cock right now. “You’re so pretty, Miss Lee,” you say.

“A–Aww, thanks, baby,” answers Seoyeon as she cups your face, body still vibrating from the thrusts.

And as cued, her body stiffens—a sign of her own high. Her grips on the table are tighter than ever. You can feel your cock getting ready to release inside her too, It builds up inside you like a tsunami.

“Nghn, M–Miss Lee, I–I’m gonna cum.”

“It’s okay, b–baby, me too, me too.”

Your thrusts are more determined than ever, chasing the high of blowing your load inside her cunt. Her walls are tighter than ever, so ready to take in your white hot cum.

“B–Baby, I’m cumming, ah!”

Seoyeon convulses on your cock. Her vice grips you so strongly. She wails, fuck, it’s a melody. And with the way her mouth opens wide, sweat dripping from her forehead, her eyes fluttering as she cums, it’s quite a sight to behold.

And within her orgasm, you cum, hard. Jets and jets of hot cum paint the insides of Professor Lee Seoyeon white, all while she’s shrieking on your cock. Your whole body shakes in the pleasure of taking her cunt.

With the last thrusts, cum dribbles off the tip of your length into her tightness. Your nectar leaks out of her, dripping onto the table. 

The room is now a fucking mess. Papers and pens are scattered everywhere. Not talking about the smell of sex that needs to be washed out soon yet.

“So, Miss Lee, are you going to be my tutor now?”

“Yeah, definitely, maybe.”

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Why You So Obsessed with Me? p3

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Carlos x reader based on the song: Obsessed– Mariah Carey, if you haven't read part 2 here it is:)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that night. Carlos standing under the streetlight like something out of a dark fairytale, stepping between you and danger like he belonged there.

It shook you.

Maybe it was just timing. Maybe it was coincidence. Or maybe he really meant it — all those things he whispered when he thought you weren’t listening. That you were his. That he’d wait. That he’d protect you.

It was enough to make you pause. Not believe him… but hesitate before shutting the door in his face again.

So, when your friends suggested dinner a few days later, you welcomed the distraction. You needed to get out of your own head.

The restaurant was cozy, warm, the clink of glasses and laughter softening the noise in your chest.

You told them what had happened. Every detail.

The flowers. The guy. Carlos.

They didn’t react how you expected.

“He saved you?” one of them said, already smirking. “Like, full-on knight in shining armor?”

You nodded slowly. “I mean… yeah. I guess so.”

“And you didn’t kiss him?”

“I— No! I didn’t kiss him. What? Why would I—”

“Oh come on,” another cut in, swirling her wine. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. Like he wants to murder anyone who even breathes in your direction.”

“Exactly,” someone else chimed. “He’s obsessed with you. Not in a bad way… necessarily.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s literally the definition of a bad way.”

They laughed, but one of them leaned forward, more serious. “All I’m saying is… maybe give him a chance. Just to see. You might be surprised.”

You didn’t say yes. But you didn’t say no, either.

You left just before midnight, tired but lighter. The street was empty, cool breeze brushing your skin as you slid into your car and turned the key.

Nothing.

You frowned. Tried again.

Nothing. Not even a cough.

“No. No no no,” you muttered, hitting the steering wheel in frustration.

Sunday night. Middle of nowhere. Perfect.

You tried calling one of your friends, but they’d already taken an Uber back home.

One of them texted back though: “Why don’t you call Carlos? He drives cars for a living. Pretty sure he knows how to fix one.”

You stared at the message.

Your thumb hovered over his name in your contacts for a full minute.

Then, with a sigh, you hit call.

He picked up on the second ring.

“¿Estás bien?” (are you okay?) Just that. Not ‘hello.’ Not ‘what’s wrong?’ Just Are you okay?

You hesitated. “My car won’t start. I think it’s the battery or something, I don’t know. Everyone left and I’m stuck—”

“I’ll be there.”

Click.

No questions. No hesitation.

Fifteen minutes later, headlights swept across the street. A sleek black car pulled up beside you. You didn’t have to see the driver to know it was him.

Carlos got out, hoodie low over his brow, hair messy. He looked half-tired, half-wired — like he’d been waiting for something all night and finally got the call.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, voice low.

You nodded. “Yeah. Just annoyed.”

He opened the hood, leaned over, checked a few things, and then glanced back at you.

“The battery is dead,” he confirmed. “I can call a mechanic to pick it up and tow it.”

You sighed. “That would be… amazing. Thank you.”

He nodded once, pulled out his phone, made the arrangements. Efficient. In control. No questions asked.

When it was done, you looked at him, then at his car.

“You mind driving me home?”

Carlos opened the door for you without a word.

You didn’t plan to invite him in.

You told yourself it was just a drink. A thank-you.

But as you poured something in the kitchen — him leaning against the doorway, watching you like he was afraid to breathe too loud — you felt something soften.

You started talking.

He made a joke. You laughed. He told you about crashing his dad’s old car at seventeen. You told him about getting your license at twenty-one because you were terrified of driving.

He didn’t judge. He didn’t gloat. He just… listened.

And you realized something that scared you a little.

Carlos Sainz was… nice.

Not in the typical, surface-level way. But underneath the intensity and obsession — there was a man who wanted to be seen. Not feared.

You refilled his glass, and he watched you with the kind of quiet that felt almost reverent.

Carlos' POV

She didn’t notice.

Not when I pulled up without directions. Not when I knew exactly where she was.

She didn’t realize she’d never given me her address.

And I wasn’t about to remind her.

Not tonight. Not when she let me in. Not when she laughed at my jokes and leaned a little closer every time I spoke.

She was warming up.

The coldness was melting. The distrust was cracking. I could see it in the way her shoulders relaxed and how her voice lost its edge.

It was working. Finally.

I took a sip of the drink she made me — sweet, a little bitter — and smiled to myself.

She thought she was in control.

But she didn’t know I’d been circling her for months. That I’d memorized the pattern of her footsteps, the scent of her perfume, the way her voice changed when she was lying.

She didn’t know the mechanic I called was a friend I paid to “find” her car a few weeks ago and leave the battery just loose enough to die tonight.

She didn’t know I’d waited outside that restaurant for an hour… just in case.

But soon it would be over.

Because now, she’d called me.

Now, she’d let me in.

And now… she’d never feel safe without me again.

Next part

@sumbellling, @hhhs7, @omgsuperstarg

[alpali]

the perfect match ᥫ᭡

includes: kageyama x fem!reader, oikawa is readers ex boyfriend, 3k words, angst, fluff, sexual innuendo but no smut, mentions of alcohol, cursing, miscommunication, , college au, mutual pining

note: idk how to feel abt the ending(-.-;) let me know what ya guys think, reblog and leave a comment! I like reading your guys thoughts! enjoy<3

The first time you laid your eyes on Tobio you were on your way to class.

He had a milk carton in hand. His deep blue eyes, jet black hair and monotone expression. He was incredibly attractive and just the sight of him already had those butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The first time Tobio sees you is in his English class.

He never was that good at English and you weren’t helping either. He’s caught himself staring at you one to many times. Luckily you haven’t noticed.

At least that’s what he thinks.

Kageyama is stuck at the vending machines in the campuses cafeteria. He’s narrowing his eyes, deep in thought.

He’ll just get milk today…

No! The yogurt—

“Hey!”

He jumps, turning around and locking eyes with you. He blinks at you, not fully registering that you’re actually talking to him.

“Kageyama right? You left your notebook.” You wave it around and he purses his lips.

“Oh. Thank you.” He says, your guys hands grazing one another. The both of you perk up at the slight touch, coughing awkwardly.

“Are you stuck on choosing?” You say, not wanting to let this chance slip.

He nods.

“What are the options?” You stand next to him, shoulders grazing. His ears redden at the contact, trying to focus on your words.

“Milk or yogurt.”

You laugh.

“That’s it?”

He narrows his eyes.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

You giggle again and the corner of his lips perk up.

“Nope! Of course not. I say the yogurt.”

He thinks about it for a bit and you smile at how cute he looks so deep in thought.

“Did you want one?” He asks before.

“I’m good…”

He narrows his eyes again and you laugh.

“Guess that’s my cue. I’ll see you around!” You wave, leaving his side. He waves back, feeling rather prideful that he was able to talk to you.

“So we meet again.” You say slyly.

Here you were both again.

At the vending machine.

“How about you try my favorite hm?” You tilt your head and he gulps, your cute antics getting to him.

“Ok.”

“Man of few words.” You click your tongue.

He awaits for your choice. You’d probably pick the coffee or probably a tea.

Wait a minute…

His brows furrow in confusion as you pull a yogurt out. You laugh at his expression.

“What?”

“All of that teasing last time just for you to choose the exact same thing.” He deadpans.

“I just wanted to mess with you.” You smile and he finds himself smiling along with you.

“Very funny.” He says sarcastically, choosing the milk.

“Now that’s something I can’t get behind.” You shake your head.

“What?” He pouts.

“How do you just drink milk.”

“It’s good for you. You don’t drink milk?”

“Only if I eat something sweet.”

He hums.

“You don’t pay attention in class do you?”

It catches him off guard and he quickly looks to the side. Have you noticed his staring? You have.

“Not really. I don’t like English.”

“I can tell.”

He glares.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You bite your lip.

“Nothing.” You drag out and he pouts.

“If you ever need help I’ll be more than glad to help you.” You smile.

“I might have to take you up on that offer then.”

“Great! Let me give you my number.”

His eyes widen a bit.

“Uh ok, sure.”

“Or not?” You back track.

“No no, I’ll take it please.” He avoids your eyes. You smile at him and happily type your number in his phone.

“Perfect! I’ll text you ‘kay?”

“Ok then.”

“Bye Kageyama!” You smile, waving and leaving once again. Another successful day for him again.

The two of you begin texting one another frequently. Completely forgetting your guys English class in general. You guys talk about your interests, what you hate, your hobbies. He tells you he’s on the volleyball team for your guys college and your interest in him only grows. You both had settled on a day to study. He didn’t like the sound of you tutoring him.

You arrive at the library and set up your things, awaiting his arrival.

“Hey sorry I’m late.” He whispers.

“I got us snacks.” He places the food, all of them being what you had mentioned you liked. Your heart warms at the small act.

“Thanks Kageyama. You didn’t have to.” You gush and he smiles.

“Take it as my thank you for helping me. Also you can just call me Tobio.” He almost murmurs the last part.

You smile softly at him.

“Okay Tobio.”

He blushes almost immediately, trying to distract himself by hurriedly pulling out his things. The study session goes perfectly and he actually did pretty well.

“You’re a pretty good teacher.” He smiles, packing up his things.

“Am I? Maybe I should start charging people.”

He pauses.

“You tutor other people?”

You grin.

“Don’t worry. Just you Tobio.” You eye him and he averts his eyes, his ears going red.

“I’ll make sure to pay you next time.” He mumbles.

“Next time?” You say coyly.

“W-Well I mean only if you want to.”

You grin, absolutely loving his reactions.

“I’m teasing you. You don’t have to pay, just take me out.”

He thinks he might just die.

The girl that he’s been pining over a month just asked him to take her out?

He’s definitely short circuiting.

“Take…you out?” He finally locks eyes with you and now you feel yourself growing nervous.

“I-It was a joke sorry!” You wave your hands, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Are you sure? I mean I don’t mind.” He says blankly and you blush even more.

How did this turn on you?

“Um yea. We can just text each other the details.” You laugh awkwardly.

“Ok. Sounds good. I’ll text you.” You hum the both of you leaving the library.

Tobio wasted no time in texting you. He was eager to take you out but the only problem was.

He was nervous.

Like.

Really nervous.

When was the last time he took a girl on a date? God he can’t remember.

What the hell does he do?

A picnic? It’s been snowing.

Maybe some food and walking around. That sounded decent to him. But would you be fine with that? He was overthinking too much.

He ends up going along with it and you agree enthusiastically, which eases his mind.

The day has finally come and he’s back to shitting bricks. He stands in front of your dorm room awkwardly, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He takes in a deep breath, knocking on your door.

“Coming!”

He hears from the other side and he his hands are sweating. You swing open the door, smiling up at him. But your eyes widen at the flowers.

“I got these for you.” He holds them out, glancing away. Your eyes soften and you gently take them from him.

“Thank you Tobio. They’re so pretty.”

Like you.

But he doesn’t have enough courage to let those words spill out.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yea! Could you help choose a jacket though? I don’t know which one goes with my outfit.” You pout. He shakes his head in amusement as you hold two jackets up and he chooses.

“Ok! All ready.” You smile, leaving and locking the door.

He takes you to a simple but nice diner. You ramble most of the time but he listens to every word you say intently. He talks about volleyball and you comment about it too.

The rest of the day is just that.

You guys window shop as you drag him into every story imaginable. Showing him outfits that’d suit him, all with a small smile lacing his face.

You guys get dessert as well, laughing when he gets a little bit of frosting on his nose.

On the walk back to your guys campus the conversation turns a little deep. The both of you talking about past relationships or experiences in general.

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?” You blink up at him.

“I mean I’ve talked to girls but no, it’s never gone that far. You?” He eyes you.

“Just one. In highschool.” You seemed to be lost in thought.

“He played volleyball too.”

Tobio snorts at that.

“Guess you’ve got a thing for volleyball guys.”

You pout.

“Hey I didn’t know you played!”

It catches you off guard for a bit. I mean obviously you could call this a date. And it’s not like it’s some secret that you guys have a thing for each other. But nevertheless it still makes your cheeks warm.

“I know I’m joking.” He chuckles.

“Ahh, I’m rubbing off on you.” You raise your brows.

“I guess you are.” You both laugh. However his next words make your laughter die out.

“So how’d it end?”

You stare off. The snowy night, tickling your face.

“Sorry I don’t know why I asked.” His lips pull into a line, mentally slapping himself.

“No it’s okay. It didn’t really end well. He was a heart throb. It was hard to maintain his attention because every girl at school liked him. So it just felt like I was competing to keep his attention on me.”

He listens carefully, a frown on his face.

“I’m pretty sure he regrets it now.”

You smile.

“Probably. I’m too good for him anyways.” You toot your own horn.

“Yea you are.” He fully means it.

“Am I too good for you?”

The words leave your mouth before you can even think. You’re about to bow on the floor, scream a bajillion apologies—

“Yea.” He says so genuinely, his eyes boring into yours.

The both of you had stopped walking. Your guys face flushed. However you’d both liked to blame it on the cold weather. A smile creeps on to your lips as you stuff your hands into your pockets.

“What a shame. I think we’d be a perfect match.” You look around playfully, leaning back and forth on your heels.

He tries to hide his smile, chewing the inside of his mouth.

“Yea?” He raises his brows, staring at you with delight.

“Mhm!” You hum, continuing to walk down the street.

“Hey, wait.” He grabs your hand.

“So…what does this mean.” He purses his lips and you laugh.

“What do you think it means.” You tilt your head.

“Do you like me?” He flushes.

“Obviously you dummy.” You laugh again.

“I’m not good at these things okay.” He glares at you yet your bright smile is contagious.

“Well then you’re lucky I’m a patient girl. We don’t have to put a label on it yet. But don’t take advantage of my patience.” You give him a stern look but he blinks.

“But I like you too.” His brows are furrowed.

“I know. I’m just saying we don’t have to rush things.” You play with the zipper of his jacket. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Okay then.” He smiles, taking your hand in his. The both of you walking back to the campus contently.

It’s been a month of numerous dates, showing up to his games, studying with each other and Tobio being the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

After midterms a party was being thrown after weeks of rigorous studying.

“Come on Tobi! I wanna go with you.” You pout.

He grimaces.

“I don’t know. It’s not my kind of thing.”

You pout again and he almost immediately changes his mind at the sight of it.

“It’s okay then, I’ll just go with my friend.” You play with his hair.

Almost on cue your friend perks up, smiling deviously.

“Don’t worry it’ll be so much fun! Although guys could be a handful. Especially if they’re horny and had a drink or two.” She eyes Tobio with a smirk.

Tobio frowns.

“I’m going.”

You stand there cluelessly as your friend laughs in victory.

The party was a week from now and you take this as an opportunity to go shopping with Tobio.

“Do we really have to go shopping. It’s just a party.” He sighs as you drag him into a store.

“This is the perfect time to shop. I can dress you up!” You smile.

“What’s wrong with my clothes.” He looks down at himself.

“Nothing Tobi, I just wanna match.” You peck his cheek. He blushes and abides.

“This is so hard. You look good in everything.” You pout. He smiles, playing with your hair.

“Why don’t we get your dress first then go from there.” He suggests and you nod.

“Smart man.” You smirk at him and he chuckles.

Now he finds himself in your shoes.

Because all of these damn dresses look too perfect on you.

“Maybe I should just go with this black one.” You look at yourself in the mirror, giving Tobio a twirl.

He gulps at the sight of you, not trusting his voice. He hums, nodding his head as he tries to settle his thoughts.

“So does it look cute?” You swing his hands.

“Yea you look beautiful.” He chews on his lip, a nervous antic that you noticed he has. You grin to yourself when you realized the effect you had on him.

“We’re gonna be the hottest people there.” You smirk, your hands placed on your hips. He laughs at your pose, shaking his head.

Loud music is heard from the house. You and Tobio are barely on the front yard.

“Are you sure you wanna go in? We don’t have to.” You pout, noticing how tightly he was gripping your hand.

“Just as long as you don’t leave me.” He murmurs. You smile, cupping his cheeks.

“I won’t.” You peck his nose and he feels his nerves melt away.

When you both enter, it’s hot and musky. Bodies pressed up on bodies, sexual tension swimming through the air and the heavy stench of alcohol.

“I never asked you? Do you even drink?” You glance up at him.

“Not really. Only when the guys have some at hangouts.” He says referring to his teammates.

The two of you greet your friends. His teammates eyes bulging out of their skulls when they see him.

“No fucking way! How the hell did you convince him to come!” They exclaim, slinging an arm over his shoulders, pointing at him.

“With a kiss!” You tease and Tobio glares.

“Don’t lie.” You guys laugh and he blushes as you talk to your friend.

Tobio talks with his teammates as his hand rests on your thigh, rubbing it soothingly. A little habit to show he’s still here.

“We’re gonna go use the restroom okay? Don’t move an inch.” You wiggle a finger at him.

“You don’t want me to come?” He’s about ready to stand up.

“I’ll be quick!” You peck his cheek.

Your friend and you disappearing into the sea of people. His shoulders slug, a frown on his face.

“You hit the lottery man. When did you guys start dating?” He laughs, taking a swig of his beer.

“We’re not dating yet.”

They all look at him like he’s insane.

“Why the fuck not?!”

This was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He’s not one to share his personal life even if he sees these guys everyday.

“We’re taking things slow.” They all hum.

“I heard some guys from another university are coming.” One of them says.

“Yea, I think we played against them.”

Tobio zones them all out.

“Kageyama!? Fancy seeing you here!” He turns to the voice.

“Welp here they are. At least two of them.” One of his friends says.

“Oh. Hey.” Tobio nods. The guy grins at him.

“You! At a party? I gotta get a picture of this. Iwa take one yea?”

“No.”

“You’re such a party pooper!” He rolls his eyes.

“Anyways. Are you guys ready? We’ve been learning some new things~”

They all talk about their match coming up soon. Unaware of you staring at them all from afar.

Your heart is hammering against your chest and your legs feel weak.

“No way…” Your friend says from beside you.

They knew each other?

Scratch that.

They’re friends?

Your head is racing with questions and thoughts.

What were the fucking odds.

You knew this was too good to be true.

“W-What do I do.” You glance at your friend and she’s as lost as you are.

You see Oikawa laugh, his eyes tracing the crowd and then.

He locks eyes with you.

His eyes widen, his stare unwavering. Tobio follows his eyes and he lights up.

“Oh. There she is.” He says, getting up from his seat on the stool.

Oikawa’s eyes flicker to him, then back to you.

“You know her?” Oikawa huffs out.

“Uh yea?” He raises a brow.

“They’re together!” His friend yells and he glares at them making them laugh.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, awaiting Oikawa’s reaction.

“Seriously?” He says with distaste.

“We’re talking.” Oikawa scoffs as Tobio makes his way over to you but you step back.

“Hey I was waiting for—what’s wrong?” His brows furrow.

You gulp.

Your eyes not meeting his. With no words leaving you, you’re off.

“What—Hey!” He chases after you.

“Aww their first fight.” One of his friends says. The other laughs at Oikawa’s face.

“I know man. She’s a gem. Can’t believe he pulled her honestly.”

Oikawa’s jaw tightens, the red solo cup in his hand crunching.

“That’s my fucking ex girlfriend.” He grits.

Everyone is speechless, eyes wide.

“Damn.”

Tobio is spamming your phone.

Calls, texts, all of it and you aren’t answering any of them. He’s worried to no end and more than confused.

Did he do something wrong?

Are you okay?

Why weren’t you talking to him?

He’s out of breath from running back to campus. He reaches your dorm room, frantically knocking. Your friend opens the door and he frowns.

“Where is she.” He huffs.

“She’s…not here.”

His frown deepens.

“Where the hell is she.” He glares.

“She’s staying at a friend’s.”

Tobio closes his eyes, sighing.

“Tell her to answer me please. I was worried about her.” Your friend nods closing the door.

It’s been almost a little over a week and you haven’t talked to Tobio at all.

He found out the news from his teammates and was shocked. It was a little awkward but in no way did that change his feelings for you. They also told him that you were probably ghosting him and that scared the shit out of him.

He liked you so much and he didn’t want to lose you over this. All he wanted was to talk and he knows he’s not good at it but he wasn’t going to lose you like this.

He’s been showing up to your dorm almost every day. Hoping to find you there. Just how long were you going to avoid him?

With high hopes and determination, he knocks. He shifts on his feet.

Silence.

He sighs.

Maybe tomorrow.

The door opens and he snaps his head towards it.

It’s you.

His eyes soften and gulps.

“Finally.” He seems relieved but you avoid his gaze.

“Can we talk? Please?” He steps closer.

You nod and he steps inside.

“Look I heard what happened and I—”

“I think we should stop seeing each other.”

His heart drops.

“What—Why?” His breathing becomes faster.

“You didn’t tell me you were friends with him.”

“I didn’t know he was your ex boyfriend!—Why does it even matter?” He says, his brows pulled together.

“You guys are friends Kageyama!”

“I wouldn’t say friends. Why are you calling me that.” His heart feels like it’s gonna burst out of his chest. His chest feeling tight.

“Do you know how awkward this is for me?”

“No I don’t. Unless you still have feelings for him. Do you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why is this bothering you so much?”

You sigh frustratedly.

He kneels down in front of you, grasping your hands.

“I—like you. A-A lot.” He gulps, trying to gather his words.

“I wanna be with you. You said we were the perfect match and I believe that. I always will. I don’t wanna lose you.” He says desperately.

His hands tighten around yours, his thumb gliding along your knuckles. Your bottom lip jitters as you look down.

“If you’re not over him, I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need me too. I-I don’t want anyone else.” His hands move to cup your face, wiping your tears.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp out.

He pulls you into him as you cry. His eyes are shut tight as he holds you. You sob as you grab his shirt. He rubs your back soothingly as he nuzzles into your hair.

“It’s okay.” He whispers.

His words calm you down, the way he holds you. You missed him so much. You were stupid to think you could push him away. When your breathes begin to even out he pulls away. His hand caressing your face. You lean into his touch as he wipes your tears again.

“I don’t like him. I feel nothing for him. I was just so overwhelmed by the situation, I didn’t know what to do.”

He listens to you, his eyes softening. This was his first time seeing you cry and he’d do anything to take your pain away. To have that bright smile grace your face, the smile he fell in love with.

“I should’ve just talked to you but I pushed you away and hurt you.” You frown. He shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I understand. It must’ve been hard for you.” He says quietly.

You can feel his breath on your lips. Your noses practically touching one another’s. The both of you gaze at each other, your eyes falling on each other’s lips. With no words to be said, your lips meet in the middle.

The kiss is soft, sensual, hesitant. It lasts a second. Until he’s pulling you in for another. Your lips connect again, this time with no hesitation.

The kiss deepens as your hand comes up to grasp around his wrist. You both pull away and kiss again.

And again.

The kisses more frantic and feverish. His hands fall to your hips, as your lips move in sync. Your hands glide along his neck and you fall against your bed. He climbs on top of you, not breaking the kiss once.

Before things could escalate, he pulls away from you. His arms resting beside your head, caging you in. You both are breathless, with plump lips and messy clothes. His eyes are lidded as he stares down at you. Your hair is splayed out on your bed, framing you so beautifully.

“I’m done taking things slow. Can I be your boyfriend now?” He whispers, still not fully recovered from your guys make out.

You break out into a smile. Your hand cupping his cheek, swiping his bangs out of his face.

“Yes Tobi. You can be mine.” He smiles wildly.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers, kissing you once again.

© alplai

[adoredawn]

✧˖° — adventures in babysitting

pairing: joe goldberg x fem!reader

type: imagine (1.6k+ words)

requested: no

summary: joe and love decide to get a babysitter for henry after dottie’s breakdown. who would’ve thought she'd spark joe's interest?

warning(s): one-sided pining (-ish). rushed plot / dialogue. no use of y/n.

note(s): not my gif. not my divider. this takes place during season 3! i’ve seen sooo little joe love on here, so i thought i’d write some! i haven’t written a full fledged fic in nearly 4 years, so please bear with me while i try to regain my skills. reblog & comment if you enjoyed it / want a part 2!

adoredawn’s masterlist

“if you want to make some calls to any previous parents i’ve worked with, there are some cell numbers i can give you,” you said with a smile, looking between the husband and wife before you. you sat opposite them on a plush loveseat as they were side-by-side on their gray sofa adorned with decorative pillows.

“oh that doesn’t seem necessary, we’ve heard great things.” love grinned as she patted joe’s knee lovingly. “cary and sherry just could not recommend you enough!”

you giggled and shook your head, smoothening out your summer dress. “i did have my hands full with those twins, that week and a half was a wild one…”

there was an uncomfortable silence. the house was eerily quiet for a toddler to be living in it, though it was his nap time. your eyes drifted down to what trinkets littered their coffee table. coasters, a book on home décor, and toddler toy keys.

as you had walked in earlier, you noticed their home was eerily clean. a family portrait of the three was already hung in a hallway and other pictures were framed on bookshelves and end tables. their home was modern, yet vintage at the same time. it felt like a showroom, but one you could call home.

you could feel their eyes on you, studying you, as you gazed around their home.

joe cleared his throat and sat up straighter, love looked at him expectingly and you mimicked his movements, snapping out of your thoughts. “so… how soon can you start? how’s your schedule?”

you opened your mouth to answer, reaching beside you to grab your purse and look at the calendar on your phone, but a cry rang from upstairs.

love sighed, “sorry about that, i guess nap time’s over! i’ll go get him and we can introduce you.” she sprang up from her seat and made her way up the staircase, glancing back once to eye joe.

joe watched as his wife traveled up the stairs to soothe their toddler, and as he turned back to look at you, he caught your stare. you momentarily forgot what he had asked, flustered. “oh-uh, well i can start as soon as you need. i’m available all week really. i’m taking a break from school for a semester.”

joe seemed to perk up, and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. “huh, what’re you studying?”

“education, with a focus on advanced literature in secondary education”

he licked his lips and you couldn’t help but watch. your hands balled into fists in your lap, crescent moons forming in your palms from your nails digging in.

“you enjoy reading?” his voice buzzed lowly with curiosity and you nodded softly.

“mhm, i plan on being a high school teacher or a professor once i graduate.” you paused, looking behind joe at the staircase, and wondering what was taking love so long. you shook your head slightly, focusing your attention back on joe, trying to remain cool. “do you read?”

“i do. i was a bookstore manager for some time.”

“really? that must’ve been fun-“

“here he is, say ‘hi’ henry!” love came down the stairs carrying henry on her hip. joe turned and watched them both come down, reaching for henry once love had sat beside him again.

you waved at little henry, and he barely paid you any mind, focusing on his mother and father. love turned him around to sit facing you, where you could see that his white pajama onesie was covered in blue moons and yellow stars.

“henry, say ‘hi,’ bubba!” love encouraged him, grabbing his arm to wave at you, causing you to smile and wave back. she looked up from him, to you, a serious look on her face. “do you want to hold him? he’s not very fussy around newer people.”

you hesitate, looking back and forth between love and joe, as if asking for permission, even though love has already granted it. meanwhile henry babbled, spitting drool over his onesie. “sure sure, i’ve got him,” you said confidently.

you stood and bent over the coffee table separating you from the couple, reaching for their toddler. as love passed him to you, henry giggled, flailing his legs and flapping his arms while he’s in the air, causing the three of you to also begin laughing.

you felt joe watching you as you held henry, and you tried your best not to return any glances, wanting to maintain your focus on henry.

you sat back on the loveseat, bouncing henry on your lap a few times. “hey, henry, how’re you doing, buddy? i’m gonna be your new babysitter.” you tell him your name, chanting it as you point at yourself a few times. he looks at you and smiles, grabbing at the bottom hem of your dress and tugging.

you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched as you had henry in your lap. of course you were being watched, you told yourself. joe and love just wanted to make sure they would be leaving henry with someone who knew what they were doing. and you very much did.

after a few minutes of holding henry, he began to stretch his arms out, pleading to go back to his parents. you held him back safely as he whined and yearned to reach the other side of the coffee table.

joe grunted an “i got ‘im,” before he walked over to you and picked henry up off of your lap, his hands brushing yours. you felt a pang in your heart as you touched, but squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore it.

once joe got a hold of him, henry began to shriek. joe tried to calm him down, patting his back and rocking him side to side, but he didn’t let up. love quickly got up from her seat and took henry from joe, patting his back.

“it’s okay, forty, it’s okay, momma’s here…” love soothed him, and whispered “sorry!” she sat back on the couch, trying to calm him down.

joe ran a hand through his hair, frowned, and sighed. you watched him with a frown, and he caught your gaze, to which you stood and stuck out your hand. “it was really great to meet you you both.”

joe took your hand in his and shook, smiling softly at you. “it was nice meeting you, miss... i’ll walk you out.” you blushed lightly as he recalled your name and turned to love and squeezed her shoulder goodbye. she muttered a soft “bye” and you rubbed henry’s back and said bye to him as well.

joe kissed love on the cheek as she settled henry down and followed behind you. you reached for the doorknob, and joe followed suit, his fingers brushing against yours again. they lingered for a second, and you turned to look up at him as you retreated your hand.

he smiled gingerly as he grabbed hold of the knob and twisted the door open. you’re both greeted by the gorgeous california sun and birdsong and you take a step outside. you turned, expecting to say your final goodbyes, but joe followed you out.

“thank you, again, for coming out to see us and meet henry. i assume love already gave you our numbers?” he asked as he closed the door behind him. he leaned against the door frame with both hands in his pockets and quickly looked you up and down.

you nodded, “yeah, it was no problem. and she did. do you have mine?” you began pulling your phone out of your purse before joe spoke.

“yes, i can send you a text to make sure it’s the right one?”

before you could agree, joe pulled his phone out of his back pocket and began typing. soon enough, you heard a familiar ding! from inside your purse, and went to read the message:

Hello, you.

you smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “i’ve got it, thanks.” you turned away to leave before stopping abruptly. joe had already turned to leave as well, and faltered as you came back. “sorry, uh, i was just wondering when would i be starting?”

joe stuck his tongue in his cheek, in thought for a moment, and you took this time to fully drink him in. he had one hand in his pants pocket, the other rubbing his chin. his dark curls fell perfectly over his forehead, and you wanted to brush them away to get him to look deeply into your eyes. his gray sleeves hugged the curve of the muscles on his arms so right, that you nearly melted at the thought of being trapped in them.

you couldn’t be thinking like this, you scolded yourself. you'd never suddenly gotten this rush of feelings when meeting someone before. he’s happily married with a kid that you’ll be taking care of. get. it. together!

“how about monday? i’ll be home for a few hours, and i don’t think love would mind if i stay and show you henry’s schedule.”

you nodded eagerly, “absolutely, just let me know when to get here. thank you, again, for having me!” you waved goodbye as you trekked down their concrete walkway and to their white picket fence toward your car. you covered your eyes from the sun and once you made it to your car, you searched for and waved at joe from across the street.

joe waved to you and watched as you settled into your vehicle. he didn’t take his eyes off of you until your car had driven out of his sight, eager for the weekend to fly by and see you on monday.

[boopiemadz]

okay this literally came to me in a dream but like lowkey pre crash travis and (fem) reader r like best friends and go to one of lotties houseparties and trav ends up getting way too drunk and emotional so reader has to drive him to her house and take care of him (and maybe tells reader he has feelings for her 🫢🫢) because i just know this man YAPS when he’s drunk

TS IS SO CUTE OML. I might combust reading this back bro, I love a good drunk confession 🤭🤭🤭. I cant put effort into adding warnings anymore so, just dont read if sensitive ig... anyways here u go bae!

[Drunk words are sober thoughts]

You and Travis weren't the kind of best friends who told each other everything. You were the kind that didn’t talk about feelings, because if you did, the whole thing might shatter.

You’d met in middle school during a group project. Ever since, there was this weird, stubborn loyalty between you. You were one of the only people who saw the soft, quietly funny, sometimes-stupid version of Travis that lived underneath all the brooding.

Now, in senior year, nothing had changed, except that everything had. Every brush of his hand against yours stuck in your head for days. Every time you made him laugh, it lit you up like a light switch.

But you didn’t talk about that. That would ruin everything.

“Lottie’s throwing one of her weird mansion parties tonight.”

You glance up from your locker. He’s leaning against the one next to yours, arms crossed, doing that thing where he looks anywhere but at you when he’s trying to sound casual.

“So?”

“So,” he shrugs, “you’re going, right?”

“Do I look like I want to get wine drunk next to Jackie and her cocky boyfriend?”

Travis snorts. “Kinda. Yeah.”

You squint at him. “Wait, do you want to go?”

“I mean... if you go.”

And there it is, one of those sentences that hovers in the air, daring you to make it mean more than it does.

You lean your shoulder into your locker and smirk. “Wow. You’re inviting yourself to hang out with me?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, but he’s smiling. Barely. “I’m just saying. Could be fun.”

You pretend not to notice how his voice goes soft when he says that. How he never uses that tone with anyone else.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

By the time the sun starts to set, you’re regretting your outfit and the fact that you even agreed. Lottie’s house is the kind of place where even the people who hate each other pose for pictures together.

You pull into Travis’s driveway and honk once. He jogs out a second later, unzipped carhartt jacket over a worn tee, hair still wet from a rushed shower.

“Hey,” he says, climbing in. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” you say, a little too quickly. “You look like... you.”

“Wow. That’s flattering.”

You grin as you pull back onto the street. “You’re welcome.”

The ride is quiet after that, but not uncomfortable. The kind of quiet that’s normal for you two, like pressing pause on the world before walking into the chaos together.

When you get to Lottie’s house, the party is already alive, music pulsing, kids swarming the porch, smoke curling out from the side yard.

Travis hangs back a step as you approach the door. “If I end up getting alcohol poisoning,” he mutters, “you better not leave me for dead.”

You nudge his arm. “I’d drag your half-conscious body to safety. Maybe.”

“You’re such a good friend.”

But he says it in a weird voice. Half-teasing, half-sincere.

---

After a while, Travis disappears, something about needing another drink, or maybe just needing a breather. Either way, he slips off into the crowd, and you don’t follow.

You find the girls again, this time in the living room where someone’s pushed the coffee table against the wall and turned the place into a dance floor. Music blasts through the speakers. Van grabs your hand before you can second guess it. “Get over here, party girl!”

You laugh, already pulled into the middle of the room, where Jackie and Taissa are dancing like they don’t care who’s watching. Natalie’s nearby too, drink in hand, swaying lazily with a detached kind of rhythm.

“Where’s your brooding boyfriend?” Van shouts over the music, still holding onto your wrist.

“He’s not my…” You try to yell back, but Jackie cuts you off by spinning into you, hands on your hips, eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, shut up. Just dance!”

You do.

At first it’s just goofy, half-dancing, half-laughing, letting go of whatever weird weight’s been hanging around your neck all night. Suddenly, you’re pressed between Tai and Van, all hips and hair and the kind of reckless freedom that only happens at house parties hosted by girls with no limits.

Taissa’s behind you in a second, grinning against your shoulder. “Look at you! Who is she?”

You laugh so hard it burns, head tipped back, hands in the air. Someone’s grinding against you, one of the girls, and for a second you stop thinking about Travis entirely.

You feel electric. Unstoppable.

“Holy shit,” Natalie says from the couch, watching the chaos unfold. “You’re like... five seconds away from making that boy combust.”

You slow a little, breath catching. “What boy?”

She just raises an eyebrow. “You know exactly which one.”

But before you can reply, someone stumbles past, and your heart lurches a little.

Because it’s Travis.

He’s across the room now, red Solo cup in hand, hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes scan the crowd like he’s trying to find something, or someone. But he doesn’t see you yet.

When he does, he stops dead.

You freeze, too.

And for a second, the noise fades.

His mouth opens like he’s going to say something.

But then someone calls his name, probably one of the guys, and he vanishes again, swallowed back into the crowd like he was never there.

You stay rooted in place, pulse loud in your ears, warmth still buzzing from the dancing, but now with a different kind of burn.

Mari leans in, hair stuck to her cheek. “You should probably go find your boy.”

You pretend not to hear her.

But your feet are already moving.

---

The air upstairs feels hotter, heavier, like the party's heat and sweat followed you up. You weave through the crowd, past couples pressed against walls and kids laughing too loudly, until you finally spot him, slumped sideways in an armchair in what looks like some weirdly formal sitting room.

Travis has his legs sprawled out in front of him, drink in hand, jacket missing, hair a mess. He’s flushed and a little glassy-eyed, talking to someone who’s not even listening anymore, some JV soccer girl already halfway out the door.

“Hey,” you say, stepping inside. “Are you alive?”

He blinks like it takes him a second to recognize you. Then he grins. “There she is.” You fold your arms. “I turn my back for five minutes and you vanish.”

He holds up his cup like it explains everything. “Hydration.”

“Right. Is that what we’re calling vodka now?”

“Could be,” he says with a crooked smile. “Also could be tequila. I genuinely don’t know.” You step closer, studying him. “You look like you’re losing a very polite fight with gravity.”

“I’m winning, actually. This chair loves me.” You raise an eyebrow. “That why you’re trying to flirt with underclassmen now?”

He snorts. “She started it.”

You smirk. “So what, you rebounding from something?”

Travis shrugs, a little too dramatically. “Maybe I’m just putting myself out there. Y’know, seeing what happens. Might hook up with someone. Who’s to say?”

You stare at him, and for a second you’re not sure if you want to laugh or drag him out by the collar of his T-shirt. “Really?”

He shrugs again, all fake casualness. “It’s a party. People do stuff.”

“You’re so bad at pretending not to care.”

That gets him. His grin falters just slightly, and he looks down at his cup. “I’m great at not caring, actually.” You sigh. “Okay, come on.”

He glances up. “What?”

“Let’s get you out of here.”

“What? No, I’m thriving.”

“You’re slurring your words, and I think that chair is the only thing keeping you vertical.”

You offer him your hand. “Come on. You’re not hooking up with anyone tonight. I’m taking you home.”

“Home-home or like... your house home?” You snort. “You think your parents would be okay with this?”

He pauses. “Okay. Yeah. Fair.”

Travis grabs your hand, warm and heavier than usual, and lets you pull him up, wobbly on his feet. “This is, like, deeply embarrassing,” he mumbles.

You grin. “Nah. This is just very on-brand for you.”

As you guide him through the hallway, you hear him mutter under his breath: “At least it’s you.”

You don’t ask what he means.

---

The drive home is quiet at first, aside from the low hum of your car’s old speakers. His window is cracked, letting in the cool night air, and he’s slouched low in the seat with one leg bent up awkwardly, head leaning against the door.

After a few minutes, he speaks.

“You’re, like... such a good driver.”

You glance at him. “Thanks?”

“Like, I feel very safe right now,” he adds, dramatically patting the dashboard. “This car? Sanctuary.”

He turns his head toward you slowly, like it takes effort. “Did you know you’re my best friend?”

You blink. “You’ve mentioned it.”

“Yeah, but like...” He pauses, squinting out the windshield. “I mean it. You’re, like, my actual best friend. Not a fake one. Like... the real-deal, ride-or-die, would-hide-a-body kind.”

You smirk. “I’d bury a body for you, but only if you stop talking like you’re in a soap opera.”

“I’m being serious.”

You glance over. He’s staring at you with his cheeks pink from the alcohol and honesty, head still tilted, curls falling into his eyes. “If I was gonna kiss anyone,” he says suddenly, “like, tonight? At that party? It’d be you.”

You nearly swerve.

“I didn’t,” he adds quickly, hands up like you’re about to arrest him. “I’m not. I just... thought about it.”

You grip the wheel tighter. “Okay. Time to shut your mouth, Romeo.”

He snorts, slumping back again, grinning. “Whatever. You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he insists, half-asleep now. “It’s cute.”

You roll your eyes and flick the turn signal. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Aw, come on…”

“Nope.”

“But I said something sweet…”

“Exactly.”

---

Inside, you flick on the dim kitchen light so the house doesn’t feel too silent, then walk back and sit down in the middle of the couch with a sigh, expecting him to collapse beside you.

Travis follows like a puppy, blinking at you as if trying to calculate something complicated with his very alcohol-slowed brain… and then promptly drops down sideways, head landing in your lap with a muffled, content groan.

“Seriously?” you ask, freezing.

“Mmhm.” His eyes flutter shut. “This is good. You’re warm. Don’t move.”

You glance down at the mop of dark curls now sprawled over your legs. “You’re literally using me as a human pillow.”

“You’re the softest thing in this house.”

“That is not true. We have like a million blankets.” He grins, eyes still shut. “They don’t smell like you.”

Your heart does something dumb and weird.

You huff a breath, trying to ignore the way he’s curling in slightly, knees bent over the armrest like he lives here, like this happens all the time. One of your hands hovers awkwardly in the air before giving up and settling on his shoulder.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re drunk,” you mutter.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

There’s a beat of quiet. His breathing slows a little, not asleep, but closer to peaceful. He shifts just enough to glance up at you through heavy lids.

“You were dancing with Jackie.”

“Yeah?”

“Grinding,” he says, a little accusatory.

You smirk. “A little.”

He narrows his eyes. “Hot.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe I got jealous,” he mumbles.

“Oh yeah?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Was that before or after you tried to flirt with that sophomore?”

“I wasn’t flirting. She offered me a Capri Sun.”

You snort. “Right. Seduction by juice pouch.”

You sit there, fingers gently brushing through his dark hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only sound in the room. The silence stretches, stretching tighter as the alcohol slowly fades from his system, leaving something raw in its wake. Travis shifts again, his hand grazing your leg as he adjusts himself in your lap.

You glance down at him, his eyes still hazy but now more focused, an intensity in them that makes your pulse quicken.

"Hang on," you mutter, breaking the silence. "I’ll grab you some water."

You slide off the couch, careful not to disturb him, but he lets out a soft groan of protest, his arm reaching out to catch your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles, eyes barely open.

“I’m just getting you some water,” you reassure him, offering a small smile as you tug gently out of his grasp. “I’ll be right back.”

You leave the couch and walk to the kitchen, the soft sound of your footsteps echoing in the stillness of the house. You open the cabinet, fill a glass with water, and take a deep breath. Something about this night, about the way things have shifted between you two, is weighing heavily on your mind. You can't shake the feeling that something is about to change.

You return to the living room, the cool glass of water in your hand. Travis is sitting up now, his gaze fixed on the floor, but you can see the way his hands twitch with restlessness.

“Here,” you hand him the glass, your voice a little more unsure than you’d like. “Drink.”

He takes the water from you, fingers brushing yours for a split second. He’s quiet for a moment, drinking deeply, before he sets the glass down and meets your eyes again. There’s something different in his gaze now, something more vulnerable.

"You know," Travis says, his voice low, hesitant, "I don't really... know how to say this."

You frown, stepping a little closer. "Say what?"

He shifts slightly, his eyes flickering to your face and then away, almost like he’s battling with himself to find the right words. The tension is thick, the air between you both charged with something unspoken.

He exhales, a sharp breath, and finally says, “I don’t know how to act around you sometimes. I try to keep it cool, but… I can’t. You’re my best friend, and I think about you all the time. More than I should. More than I want to, really.”

Your heart skips, but you stay quiet, your chest tight as you try to make sense of his words. There’s something vulnerable in his tone, something that tugs at you. It’s not like him to be this open, this raw.

“I don’t wanna mess things up, but I can’t help it,” he continues, his voice soft, almost like he’s confessing something he’s been carrying for too long. “If I were gonna kiss anyone tonight, it would be you, I meant that when I said it. I’ve wanted to for a while now.”

The words hit you like a wave, catching you off guard. Your breath catches in your throat, your hands suddenly cold as they hang limply by your sides. The air feels thick, suffocating, and for a moment, you wonder if you heard him right. You try to step back, your heart racing.

“Travis, I…” You stammer, the room spinning slightly as your thoughts scramble to catch up with his confession.

He quickly notices the hesitation in your face and his expression falters, turning slightly panicked. “Look, I know this sounds crazy, and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I needed to tell you. I don’t want to just hide it anymore. You deserve to know.”

You take a deep breath, your mind racing. “But you’re drunk. This isn’t…”

“I’m not just drunk,” he interrupts, his voice steadier now, more intense. “I’ve felt this way for a long time. I’m not just saying this because of tonight. I’ve been trying to ignore it, pretend like it’s not there. But it is. And I can’t just go on like everything’s normal when it’s not. Not anymore.”

His eyes are searching yours, so deep, so desperate for an answer, and in that moment, everything feels too much. You take a step back, unsure of what to do with the knot in your stomach, the confusion swirling inside you.

He lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with the way this is going. “I’m not expecting anything from you,” he says, his voice quieter now, a little sadder. “I just needed to tell you.”

The silence stretches between you both, heavy and thick. You feel the weight of his words sitting in your chest, and despite the way your mind is spinning, you can’t ignore the pull in your stomach, the way your heart aches with something you can’t quite name.

You finally move toward him again, your body reacting before your brain catches up. You sit beside him. He looks up at you, eyes soft, his vulnerability almost unbearable to witness.

“I don’t want you to regret this,” you whisper, your voice shaking slightly. “I don’t want to be a mistake.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not a mistake,” he says firmly, his voice low and full of certainty. The words hang in the air, thick and charged with tension, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then, slowly, carefully, you close the distance between you both, your lips meeting his in a tentative kiss.

At first, it’s soft, careful, like both of you are testing the waters, unsure of what this will mean. But then, as the tension breaks, the kiss deepens, and suddenly it feels like everything falls into place. His hands move to your back, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your hands threading through his hair as you kiss him with everything you’ve been holding back.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, hearts pounding in your chests.

“I’ve wanted this too,” you whisper against his lips, your voice trembling as the weight of your own confession settles in.

He smiles, his forehead resting against yours, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

You close your eyes and let yourself relax into his arms, knowing that this isn’t just a drunken mistake. This is real, this is happening, and for the first time, you both feel like you can finally be honest.

As you both slowly pull back and settle down on the couch, your heads finding a comfortable position against the cushions, you slip your hand into his, your fingers entwining naturally. You close your eyes, your heart still racing from everything that just happened, but it’s not scary anymore. It feels right.

Travis’s voice breaks the silence, soft and full of contentment. “I’m glad I finally told you.”

“Me too,” you reply, letting out a sigh of relief as you snuggle closer to him.

With his arm around you, you both finally drift off to sleep, your hearts beating in sync, leaving nothing left unsaid.