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writerpeach · 8 months ago

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Ambrosial: Part One

IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

16k words

Part four of the Annyeongz (soon to be titled) series

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

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where the fuck are you? wake up already

You don’t ask for much.

Without a doubt, you’ve been living life to the fullest, in the most luxurious apartment on campus, maybe in the city. Fully furnished, several floors above anyone else, it’s equipped with everything one could need, including a pool and gym, plenty of rooms, plenty of space, plenty of comfort.

From the expensive decor to the extravagant clothes, the priceless jewelry and fancy cars, this place resembles more a palace than a simple living space. You wonder how you got caught up living in this reality—just you, Wonyoung, and her best friend and mutual roommate, Yujin.

Roommates doesn’t exactly seem the right word, considering how blurred these lines have gotten, where you've woken up in a mess of naked bodies and tangled limbs, not even remembering whose bed you've fallen asleep in.

Despite all that, you never need to ask for anything—ever. They've taken care of your needs, both financially and in other ways, without ever having to vocalize them, something you’re eternally grateful for. And yet, the one thing you crave most, a nice, peaceful morning to sleep in—you’re almost never granted.

Every time your head hits the pillow, your phone buzzes. Another text, another voicemail. One more thing hindering your return to dreamland. Leaving it on silent just delays the problem—you know it’ll keep ringing regardless, because the name attached to these annoyances, it’s none other than Jang Wonyoung, and she’ll do whatever it takes to get your attention.

Her persistence is unrivaled, unmatched, unrelenting. She never rests, not until she’ll get what she wants. Which also means you don’t rest until then.

You’re tempted to just ditch your phone, open up a window and toss it outside, easily forgetting it exists. The apartment is on the top floor, and it’s a long way down—and yet, you’re not prepared to deal with the consequences that’ll come from that. If only it were so simple. If only you had personally bought this phone instead of it being gifted to you during Christmas by the two of them, after it had been sold out for months—

So with much reluctance, you swallow your pride and kick the sheets off, until your feet touch the cold floor, signaling the start of the day.

Now, instead of making breakfast for Yujin or sitting down to a nice cup of coffee, you’re walking through foot-high snow, freezing your ass off on a trek through campus when you don’t even have any classes at all this morning. All before the time your alarm usually goes off. That’s your fault, you suppose, for ignoring all her voicemails and responding only to her latest text, the one with an obscene amount of exclamation marks.

The walk, in hindsight, isn’t too far—ten minutes at the most. But now that you’re meeting Wonyoung for whatever ungodly reason so early, every snow-covered step takes twice as long, feeling like you’re walking in cement.

But hey, maybe this’ll be worth your while, finding out why the hell it’s so urgent to be driven out of bed at whatever-the-fuck hour this is in the morning. And maybe, just maybe, Wonyoung has a fresh hot cup of coffee and breakfast as your consolation prize (spoiler alert, she doesn’t).

Luckily for you, once the student center comes into view, so does Wonyoung. It’s always so easy to pick her out of a crowd in that ridiculously large coat, and those fuzzy boots that are anything but practical (it can’t be considered Wonyoung if it’s not form over function). This girl’s a head-turner for sure, and even in the freezing cold still manages to look like a model fresh off the Paris runway.

Wonyoung's attention snaps off her phone when she notices your arrival, turning her head in your general direction. There’s a blank expression on her face when she approaches with her arms folded, icy breath visible with each exhale, and you can see that deadly glare even through her designer shades. “Took you long enough.”

"Kept the princess waiting, huh? Didn't realize," you reply, unapologetically sarcastic in tone as possible, hands deep in your pockets for warmth. Even with those expensive sunglasses on, it isn’t hard to imagine the eye roll you’re getting underneath. “It's fucking cold, not exactly easy to speed through the snow.”

"Should have dressed warmer if you're cold then," Wonyoung dares to suggest as she snatches up your wrist, her gloved fingers so warm in comparison. "Get over here, dummy."

Wonyoung closes the distance without a moment's hesitation, planting a soft, heartfelt kiss on your lips, the warmth of her mouth alone a better heat source than any coat could hope to match. She steals a few more kisses, taking no regard for your surroundings, before ultimately settling against your shoulder, not paying attention to any other people passing by the two of you.

"What's so important that you had to drag me out of bed for?"

"Spending time with me isn't important enough? Not everyone gets to wake up and see this face every day—" Wonyoung says so shamelessly as she leads the way inside.

You’re dragged inside by this delicate little thing, who at the very moment has so much ridiculous strength, guiding you who knows where. Passing by the cafeteria is your first red flag, the fresh smell of coffee taunting you as she presses a button to call down the elevator.

The steel doors shut, and before you have time to question anything, she's sealing your lips with a kiss again, this time with enough aggression to press you into the wall. After pulling away, Wonyoung’s sunglasses flip up and rest atop her head, followed by a devious, satisfied grin overtaking her lips.

“Not that I'm complaining—but you woke me up just to make out?”

“Maybe. Hmph,” Wonyoung sighs, her hands reaching out to fix your scarf. “Yujin’s been keeping you all to herself lately.”

You can’t tell if she’s genuinely jealous, or just looking for an excuse to steal you away—not like it makes any difference. Wonyoung isn’t usually keen on answering questions. She simply kisses you again, hoping to offer a distraction while the elevator slowly hums towards whatever floor is your destination.

“Ugh, don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?”

The elevator chimes, but Wonyoung doesn’t give a hint of explanation when the doors slide open, taking your hand to bring you out onto the rooftop terrace. A burst of cool air comes through that sends a shiver through your body, and this beautiful, white landscape apparently is her top secret location, a secluded outdoor area with the most breathtaking view.

Unsurprisingly, it’s empty—not a single person brave enough to be up here. A chilly breeze still passes through, even though the patio area is adequately covered. So with any luck, you’ll have the entire place to yourself, with all the privacy in the world to enjoy it, which is perfect when you have Wonyoung to warm up with.

After dusting the snow off the nearest couch, Wonyoung beckons you to sit beside her, pulling you down to her level. But before you can take another breath, she’s already in your lap to make out with you again, both hands cupping your face, eager to claim what belongs to her.

"I thought you hate the cold," you say, surprised that Wonyoung of all people came up here to a place like this willingly.

"Yeah, well—“ She pauses mid-sentence, removing her sunglasses off her head and tucking them into the inside pocket of her coat. “I like you more.”

It’s cute—that even a bratty girl like Wonyoung can show vulnerability like this.

A rare accomplishment for sure, that rosy pink hue warming her cheeks when she gets all flustered. Even more uncommon that she gets shy long enough to glance away, but once her gaze returns, the demure smile on her face could melt the snow that surrounds you. Wonyoung pockets her gloves as her long, slender fingers play with the collar of your sweater, leaning in for another kiss.

It’s slow and methodical the way your lips press together, with neither one of you bold enough to be the first to deepen it. All you can think about is how soft these glossy lips are, and how sweet the taste of Wonyoung is that you’ll give anything to it savor forever while her fingers wander through your hair.

But It doesn't take long for these innocent kisses to turn quickly into something much more heated, tongues slowly invading each other's mouths. The lingering sweetness of her lips pairs with dominance that you’ve eagerly given up, letting her dictate every movement, defenseless to do much more than melt when her teeth play with your bottom lip.

“Daddy…”

It spills out so casually from Wonyoung's pretty lips, one simple word triggering something dangerous inside you that causes enough hesitation for you to get lost in her eyes. “Princess.”

“Just missed you, I guess…” she confesses out of nowhere, all out of breath, her icy hands still cupped around your face. The shiver it sends through you isn’t from the frosty weather, or even that favorite little word she loves using.

“You guess?” you ask, and let out a slight chuckle at the lack of sincerity, admiring how absolutely stunning this girl looks in your arms—those hypnotizing doe eyes, rosy cheeks, and parted lips all forming pieces to the most gorgeous picture.

Then there's that signature pout, potent as ever, on Wonyoung's face that shouldn't be allowed to be this irresistibly cute.

“Say it back!”

You can’t help but want to tease her further, leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips, knowing full well Wonyoung's validation has no end to it. "Say what back?"

With a deepening pout and narrowed eyes, Wonyoung grasps your face in her hands, preventing you from averting from her softening gaze that’s becoming increasingly less threatening with each passing second. "Daddy—"

Those little whines that escape only widen your smile as she hits your chest with all the impact of a fallen snowflake, which only succeeds in getting her even more riled up. Admittedly, that isn’t hard to do.

"Did I miss you?" The more you deny what she needs to hear, the more she crumbles, a total withdrawal from her usual demeanor. “I think the cold is getting to you. Don’t be so delusional to believe that I think about you for a moment, Jang Wonyoung.”

"Shut up," she scoffs, reverting to her usual bratty self, aggressively kissing you and tugging at your hair. "You're the one who walked through the snow just to kiss me."

With nothing to respond with, you let her win in silence—because she's absolutely right.

Now you're stuck here with Wonyoung perched on your lap, sitting on a rooftop patio, all tangled up with her lips. You can’t help but admit you're hopelessly addicted to the taste of these kisses, the scent of her perfume, and how her eyes fixate on yours long enough that you’ll do anything she asks. And while she's busy kissing your cheek, moving to trace the outline of your earlobe, you're just letting her explore wherever she pleases, removing your scarf so she has room to leave whatever marks she wants on your bare neck.

“Don’t worry, daddy. This’ll keep you warm instead,” she mutters, her voice so comforting right next to your ear. Her lips kiss into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting on the sensitive skin to leave her first mark—one that Yujin isn’t going to like.

When she's done, there's another quick peck to the same spot, as if she's somehow fixing the damage caused by kissing it again. These little pecks that trail all across your jawline, they gradually get more needy by the second, in a way that you've not witnessed before, as if every kiss leaves Wonyoung even more desperate than the one before it.

"Yujinnie is busy all day today with classes,” she says, and her voice dips so sweet and suggestive when she trails off, a hand sliding up to your chin to guide your mouth back to hers. "So that means daddy gets to play with me all day..."

You’re not sure if you should be excited, concerned, or a little bit of both, that Wonyoung has every intention of monopolizing you today. There seems to be no end to this make-out session, but you have nothing to complain about other than being a little cold and more than a little hungry—but that can be ignored when this outing has turned into a cute, unplanned little date.

“Princess,” you get out between the onslaught of kisses, but her persistent lips cling back to your neck, refusing to give up any affection. “I hate to stop kissing you, but if I don’t eat something…“

“Fine,” Wonyoung says, with the most audible sigh she can produce, climbing off your lap reluctantly to give your lips a much needed rest. “Let’s go get you some breakfast then—because daddy is going to need all his energy."

It’s gotten far too normalized for you to even react to Wonyoung mouthing off something like that.

Once the two of you get back on your feet, you grab your scarf from the bench to wrap it back around your neck, but before you get too far, Wonyoung stops you from hiding the evidence.

"Nuh-uh—no covering up my work."

Her pretty, manicured hands snatch the scarf from you, looping it around her own neck and she smiles with pride at all the marks visible on your thoroughly kissed neck. "There, now everyone can see daddy's all mine."

Wonyoung giggles as she spins on her heels, grabbing your hand to lead the way back inside. When her fingers interlace with your own, she gives your hand a firm squeeze, doubling down on her claim as you take the elevator and head back down towards the dining hall.

On your way inside, Wonyoung’s mere presence attracts enough attention to get a multitude of eyes watching, like she’s walking down the red carpet of a movie premiere instead of just strolling down the cafeteria’s extensive breakfast buffet.

While you stay one step behind, you can’t help but feel you’re a trophy that Wonyoung proudly displays around, these fresh marks on your neck a badge of honor that backs up her claim.

All this extra attention leaves you a little self conscious, especially in front of a crowd that's mostly students you share the same classes with. On the contrary, Wonyoung's perfectly fine being stared at like this, the attention gained doing nothing but brightening her smile. It’s so easy for her to bask in it while she waits for you to catch up, turning around to plant a kiss on your cheek that’s going to draw even more stares.

In front of all these eyes, Wonyoung so shamelessly has no trouble giving you all the affection she thinks you deserve, and you’re more than happy to receive it, regardless of the embarrassment that comes at your expense.

Eventually, you end up in the checkout line, waiting in silence for Wonyoung to go through the process of paying. Her wallet is all glittery pink and so princess-like, pulling out her black card like it’s nothing, easily able to cover the bill for the entire dining room with no sweat.

Now it's just a matter of finding a free table to sit at, which isn't easy. The morning rush is in full swing, which means most tables are packed to the brim with hungry students, or anyone looking for a place to study that isn’t the stuffy, equally overcrowded library. Luckily, Wonyoung spots a seat in the corner emptying out, almost as if they’ve left at her behest, and you follow behind to claim the precious real estate.

Wonyoung pulls her coat off and takes a seat, with her meal comprising an extra-large iced vanilla latte (that's mostly whipped cream), and a blueberry muffin with a few pieces of fruit. Compared to the meal you managed to get on your plate, hers looks pretty modest, but then again, this girl lives on desserts and coffee alone, the idea of a proper meal a completely foreign concept to her.

Before you join her, you take one last look around, wondering if the stares have calmed down at all. But no—it's just the opposite, the popularity of hers shining a spotlight on the two of you.

"Daddy, sit." Wonyoung pats the spot beside her instead of across the table, with an innocent smile that contradicts the demanding nature of her tone. You follow her command without any protest and take a seat beside her.

Unsurprisingly, Wonyoung stays in character, and doesn’t eat too fast as she begins to take the littlest bites imaginable of her muffin, washing it down with a long sip of coffee. It’s a clear contrast from how you’ve devoured nearly half of your breakfast in what feels like only a few bites, but it can’t be helped, especially with how hungry you are, that rooftop make-out session only making matters worse.

Besides, Wonyoung enjoys watching you eat—offering you a bite of her muffin in exchange for a kiss that she sneaks in when you've finished chewing, giving you a double dose of blueberry that lingers on her lips.

“Daddy…” she says out loud, unconcerned with who hears your little pet name, whether it be the table next to you or the entire dining hall. “Won’t it be fun with no one interrupting us for the whole day?"

With no hesitation, she rests a hand on your thigh underneath the table, and leans in to press some sweet little kisses against your cheek, all that innocence desperately trying to cover up her intentions.

"Don't you have class later?"

"Do I?" Wonyoung asks all coyly, pulling out her phone for a moment and not even bothering to check her schedule before putting it away back in her purse. "Looks like I'm all free suddenly!"

You raise an eyebrow in suspicion, because you swear this girl skips class like she's allergic to it. But you’re not going to complain about more free time with Wonyoung, especially if it gives you a free pass to get your hands all over this little brat—not that she needs yet another excuse to skip class.

"Your studies should be a priority, princess."

"Some priorities are more important than others," she says, using a fingertip to wipe some syrup off the corner of your mouth before slowly sucking the tip of her finger clean. It's no accident how she drags it out, swirling her tongue around with a proud smirk as you watch in disbelief until she slips it out with an obscene pop of her lips. "And right now, daddy is my priority."

This girl is unbelievable.

Moments ago, Wonyoung was all sweet and innocent, planting these cute kisses on your cheek in a public display of affection that left your face blushing bright red. But now—that shy, innocent persona might as well be discarded entirely, a complete shift that has her becoming bolder in public, and you know she's not above sitting in your lap to make a statement.

"Besides—Yujinnie has had too much time alone with daddy lately," Wonyoung reiterates as she shoves a strawberry into her mouth, like the idea of Yujin spending time with you is some type of criminal offense. "I deserve to have you all to myself for a while..."

"Needy little brat."

Wonyoung can't help but giggle quietly, her devious little grin widening as she adjusts her headband, staying mindful of her antics. “I’m daddy’s needy little brat.”

It's rather cute to see her jealous side slip out, how she gets so pouty at the mere mention of you giving Yujin more attention. You're pretty sure you could give Wonyoung all the attention in the world and it’d never be enough.

So after Wonyoung scoots a little closer and offers you a sip of her coffee that you’re not enthusiastic about, you drink it only because she’s the one offering. But god, it's the most sugary sweet drink you've ever had, and you try not to grimace at how this must be nothing but pure sugar, a far cry from your own almost entirely bitter black coffee. (And to think, this girl used to despise anything with a modicum of sweetness.)

One sip is enough to wake the dead, but you're not surprised given it's Wonyoung, and this must be the secret source of her boundless energy. You're just about done with your breakfast, left to watch her take more tiny little nibbles of food until there's nothing left on her plate. When she’s all done, those pouty lips wrap around her straw one last time, sucking down the remnants with an annoying, loud slurp that leaves some leftover whipped cream on her lower lip that’s licked clean in the most provocative way possible.

"Come on, daddy," she says, wiping her mouth clean with a napkin and inspecting herself in the makeup mirror before packing her things up. "We have all day ahead of us."

✦ ✦

Back in your apartment, the emptiness can’t be ignored with Yujin not around, leaving you almost missing the chaotic energy that exists when these two are in the same space. The only advantage of her absence is that you can focus all your attention on Wonyoung as she rests her head on your lap, looking up at you so contently while you stroke her hair.

For once, she’s not glued to her phone while you bask in this rare moment where hardly a word is spoken between you two, nothing to break the tranquil atmosphere.

It's perfect.

You wonder how it’s possible that this girl can be simultaneously such a hassle to deal with and also make you feel so happy with her presence. The ultimate dichotomy in the form of Jang Wonyoung—endlessly infuriating at times, and absolutely charming at others.

At least for now, you’ve got the best side of her. Those pretty eyes stare at you with adoration as you comb your fingers through her hair, appreciating each and every detail of her endless beauty.

"So beautiful, princess…” you murmur without thinking, nearly regretful to interrupt the silence. Taken by surprise, Wonyoung’s eyes flutter open at the sound of your voice, a red tint coloring her cheeks as her lips curl into an embarrassed grin.

“What was that, daddy?"

"You're so pretty," you say, not wasting any time to repeat yourself, and you’ll do so a thousand times if it gets this adorable reaction out of her.

It doesn't take much to flatter Wonyoung, who thrives on compliments and praise, no matter how small or simple. "You're absolutely gorgeous, princess."

Not often can you make her speechless, even for a mere moment—but while she stays close to your lap, it leaves her completely vulnerable, all flustered, while you play with her hair and appreciate such perfection.

"Say it again, daddy."

Before you can do just that, you’ll let the moment linger, relishing in how you have Wonyoung melting at words alone. You're more than aware of how easily she’ll turn into a needy mess at the most basic of compliments, this absolute brat now so timid and shy that you don’t want to ruin the moment.

"Say what?"

"Say I'm pretty again," Wonyoung whines with her lips pouting, waiting for your response, and she’s so desperate for more affection, like she’ll die if you don’t give her another compliment. And even with that, you hesitate, because it’s seldom you can get the upper hand. So you keep the silence going for longer than necessary, unable to hide the smile on your face from showing through.

"Jang Wonyoung is the prettiest princess,” you finally manage to say, and she giggles, because nothing can't hold back how this praise energizes her, turning her into an absolute puddle.

“Prettier than Yujinnie?"

“Wonyoung—"

“Yes or no," she interrupts with a sigh, because Wonyoung isn't ever satisfied unless you acknowledge her being in the top spot. Everything has to be a competition and there's no one else that compares to her.

“I'm not answering that. You're both—“

"So, that's a yes.”

There she goes again, always misinterpreting your answer to turn it into her favor. Wonyoung props herself up to sit right next to you, leaning over to press a quick kiss against your cheek. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, daddy."

You can’t even be that annoyed when she’s this cute, never straying far from that bratty, but lovable side coming out as she clambers onto your lap and shifts her hips to get comfortable.

Once she sees the marks left from this morning on the side of your neck, Wonyoung can’t help but smile in satisfaction. This sense of pride when she knows you’re all hers.

"Is this a good place to start, or do you want the bedroom?" Wonyoung asks out of nowhere, barely getting a breath out before she leans in close.

"Start what?" you ask, again feigning ignorance with a raised brow, because there's no better way to get a rise out of Wonyoung. And falling for the bait so easily, she lets out the loudest huff—this exaggerated frown, lips formed into the perfect pout, followed by rolling her eyes. The trifecta of annoyance.

"Daddy," she complains with an exaggerated whine, always upset over the littlest thing.

You’re not dense to what she’s getting at (it’s always the same thing), but you’ll never give in right away. Not when you can so easily let it simmer. "You said you were going to play with me. So that means fucking me all over the apartment until we're tired and sore."

And there's that signature bluntness that Wonyoung is known for.

It's almost a relief to hear this side of her again, because as enjoyable as the sweet and innocent part of her is—you know it never lasts long. There’s clearly a time limit on how long she can maintain it all before her brattiness slips back out.

“Did I? Doesn’t sound like me.”

You now understand why Wonyoung acts this way. Because when you can get under her skin, even in this playful way—it’s more fun than you like to admit. Addicting even, seeing her get all worked up over the littlest things. "I don't remember promising anything..."

She squirms on your lap in frustration, placing her hands on your shoulders as if to convince you with those pleading eyes that it's her right to get her way. Honestly, you don't know how she does this all the time—because just a solitary moment looking into her gaze makes you want to surrender without a fight.

"You don't want me to take all my clothes off right now? So you can do whatever you want to me?"

So that’s how she’s going to play this. It's tempting, really tempting—and a bit unfair that Wonyoung can provoke you in ways no one could resist, putting that impeccable tight body as her strongest weapon against your defenses. This girl's a master manipulator, no thanks to Yujin teaching her all the ways of seduction, turning her cuteness against you.

"Then I guess I'll just go take a nap in my room and leave daddy all alone..." There's about a zero percent chance Wonyoung follows up on that threat, but you'll play this game despite that. She knows you will.

"That's too bad then. Guess I'll just go see Yujin. It's been a while since I've made her—“

“Daddy!" she whines, her mouth pulled into a full frown as she gives up this charade so easily, changing the subject on the spot. "I'm wearing pink today. Underneath all this. It’s brand new, daddy hasn’t even seen it yet. Aren’t you curious to see it?”

You curse under your breath at how quickly you’re about to fold, because you’re already picturing this gorgeous girl showing off a matching set of sexy underwear that she’ll look so good in. Admittedly, you've got nothing to defend yourself—no good cards left, nothing up your sleeve, and Wonyoung hasn't even gone all in yet.

"Yujin helped me pick it out. It's all lacy and so cute—she said it makes my butt look amazing."

There's nothing more dangerous than that. These two vixens helping pick out something so deadly for each other with the sole intent to make you weak. No one could blame you for buckling under the pressure of wanting to see every bit of Wonyoung’s beautiful body, every inch of that creamy skin yours for the taking.

You could drag this on, but really, there’s no point, because this girl will bat those eyes, pout those lips, and have you eating right out of the palm of her hand. So, per usual, you topple, without even putting up a real fight. “Fine. Show me, princess.”

Once again, you’ve succumbed to her ways, and she can’t hide the triumphant smile that flashes across her face, not even a bit humble about her victory. Wonyoung leans in for a kiss, but this time you dodge her lips, instead lifting her up to carry her all the way up the stairs. She wraps her arms around your neck to hold on, giggling even more like it's a bigger accomplishment that she doesn't have to walk up the stairs, getting this princess treatment she absolutely doesn't deserve.

“Not your bedroom, daddy. Yujin’s.”

Before you’ve even reached the end of the stairs, Wonyoung’s doling out commands, but you follow the detour without objection, changing course straight towards the open doorway right at the far end of the hall.

Yujin’s bedroom.

Inside, you don’t bother closing the door, only switching on the lights as you enter with the full intent of defiling it (which, to be fair, Yujin would do exactly the same to Wonyoung, given the chance).

“Down, please,” is what you’ve been instructed after you give the room a once-over, walking right up to such an immaculately made bed, and deposit Wonyoung not so gently against the firm mattress. The entire room smells so unmistakably like Yujin, as if she left moments ago without you noticing, an aroma that's not going to last much longer with the plans you both have.

Wonyoung stretches her arms out, getting far too comfortable and almost content to just lie there while your gaze wanders around the room. There's a sense of familiarity walking in here, and the place is well kept, unsurprisingly, with you knowing exactly what’s in every nook and cranny. Normally, you'll see Yujin's laptop sitting on her desk, or on the bed while she lets you distract her from schoolwork by burying your tongue in her ass, because what are those short shorts for other than an invitation to do just that?

The nightstand drawer consistently holds the same items (hint, one of them is fuzzy, pink, and always gets used on you more times than you care to count), and the closet mirror is seldom used to fix herself in the morning. Instead, the poor thing is only useful for two reasons: watching the view of Yujin's tight ass when she's on her knees, taking your cock so deep in her throat, or your personal favorite—the reflection of herself as you slam that sinful body up against it.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Wonyoung asks, breaking your concentration as she reaches out for your hand. Before you agree, you remain steadfast at the foot of the bed, arms folded, watching the anticipation building in her eyes.

“Am I? Weren’t you going to do something for me?”

It’s the whole reason you two left the couch in the first place, right? The promise of something meticulously picked out that this girl is supposed to model for you, and yet, Wonyoung doesn't move a muscle while your collective stubbornness clashes.

"Not until you come here, daddy."

Sigh.

Because of course she can't do something so simple without a negotiation. No, it has to be you who caves in first and climbs onto the bed, with no energy to argue about if it gives you a closer look at this supposed little show that Wonyoung is about to put on. Without another word, she pushes you onto your back and straddles your lap, giving you one more look at her in this cute little white miniskirt and matching shirt ensemble that won't stay on for much longer.

You’re surprised at what comes next, expecting more of a challenge, that you’ll have to do something to earn this illustrious reveal. But then again—Wonyoung wants to show herself off, and nothing will get in the way of that.

So, without any pause, her delicate fingers pop each button open, revealing a hint of beautiful pink lace. And your eyes are right where she wants them, but before your hands get a moment to be greedy, she stops you, catching a wrist.

“Nuh-uh, daddy. No touching. Just watch.”

Wonyoung gives back a smug smirk at giving you guidelines to obey, knowing how difficult it'll be for you to just sit back and enjoy. She continues where she left off, flinging the shirt off her shoulders to expose this pretty bra that's more than met expectations.

“What do you think, daddy?” Of course, it looks amazing on her, showing off those cute perky tits, and that flawless porcelain skin that you can’t wait to get your hands on.

"Not sure. Think I need to see the rest before I can decide."

Wonyoung isn’t even a little surprised at that answer, already unzipping her skirt to give more of herself away. She wiggles her hips to take it off her body, all the way down those shapely, endless legs. With nothing left in the way, you've got the best view of this matching set of pink lingerie that hugs her petite frame so perfectly, one that’s so skimpy, yet so ravishing at the same time.

A simple wow is all you can manage, left nearly speechless, and you haven't even seen the much anticipated angle of that cute little butt that no doubt looks spectacular. Clearly, Yujin knew what she was doing.

"You like it, daddy?" Wonyoung asks, already so sure of your answer when she grabs your hands to place them on her body. And that’s all you need when she gives permission to touch her to your heart’s desire, to run your fingertips up her toned stomach, right up to her chest, squeezing those perky little tits with all the greed she encourages.

“Love it. Pink looks so good on you, princess.”

The more you explore her flawless body, the more she squirms from the attention, desperate to take it all in as your hands touch and grope wherever they please. She simply melts at the attention, but you’re not done yet, waiting until the perfect moment to take two handfuls of that tight ass, unable to resist digging your fingers right in to squeeze tightly, getting a needy little gasp right out of her.

"Only good?" she pouts, aching for more praise, more validation, and even while she knows how good she looks, she'll simply die without hearing it from your own lips. You kiss her, moving hair out of the way before breathing hot air right next to her ear when you bring your mouth there.

“My princess looks so pretty, so goddamn sexy, so delicious—can’t take my eyes off you Jang Wonyoung. Can’t wait to taste you all.” It's not quite enough to satiate her ego, but the flattery does a number on her. Any cute little giggles that spill out do so unrestrained while you shower her in all the compliments she craves—that she deserves.

Yet before you do anything, Wonyoung leans over to you with a beaming smile as she takes hold of your shirt and starts tugging, eager to get you out of these clothes.

"But I wanna taste daddy first,” she says rather blatantly, working to get the garment up and over your head, stripping it off you in a few short seconds. She loves this, admiring your chest that she’ll spend an entire morning worshiping, kissing, biting, tracing her initials over your abdomen, whatever she chooses—

"Daddy can stare at me all he wants while I suck his cock..."

The thought of getting that pretty warm mouth on you is too good of a treat to resist, especially when Wonyoung is demanding so nicely, acting unusually sweet as she covers your chest with seemingly endless kisses. But soon, that interest wanes when the lust consumes her, unable to hide her desires while she trails further down, nibbling and biting her way further south.

"Whatever you want, princess. I’m all yours."

“Don’t forget that.” Wonyoung's already snuck the belt from its confines, unbuckling it quickly as possible, trying so hard to mask the urgency that’s guiding her delicate fingers. Without words, she’s going straight for that craving—to taste you, to feel your length on her tongue, and by the time you realize you’ve been left only clad in your underwear, there’s no slowing her down.

Not that you’d ever want to.

Wonyoung continues on her mission to strip everything off—yanking at the elastic band to force your boxers down without warning.

No longer held back, you're fully exposed before this ravenous girl, as Wonyoung licks her lips while admiring your shaft, salivating just a little too noticeably at the sight of her favorite thing in the world.

"Daddy has such a beautiful cock. Missed it so much, missed how it fills my throat,” she says, and her hands find your thighs, palms stroking firmly up and down while she lays down onto her stomach to get that much closer.

Her warm breath fans over your balls when she inches close enough, unable to help herself as she leaves kisses right at your base. Wonyoung giggles, smiling prettily before her tongue finally makes its presence known as she swirls around your cockhead in tight, slow circles, moaning a little with just a small taste of you.

She takes a small breath, looking up through those lashes that she’ll bat to get her way—but it isn’t necessary here, because Wonyoung is already where she needs to be. “Gonna make daddy feel so good, better than Yujin ever could.”

The only response that leaves your lips is a low groan when her lips press a single kiss along the length, taking her sweet time to drag this on for longer than it needed to be. Her tongue immediately proves her point as she takes a long lick, then just like that—her plump lips part to take you, engulfing your swollen cockhead inside the wet heat of her mouth.

You groan with pleasure, resting comfortably against the sheets, and watch how Wonyoung goes to work on this already achingly stiff cock, fueled by lust and greed. She sucks so tightly around the head, not one bit in a hurry, and her mouth creates such a perfect suction around your sensitive tip. As you enjoy the visual, her lips slide down an extra inch or two before rising back up again, establishing a nice, slow pace to start this off, not willing to spoil herself just yet.

That pretty fucking mouth—it’s your biggest weakness. This pleasure is not just for you, but for Wonyoung, who loves hearing your moans, the low curses, the growls, anything she can pull out of your lips.

The moment you disappear past her lips, she doesn't waste another moment. Wonyoung lowers, mouth sliding a little further, too impatient to wait, surrounding more of that shaft with her silky lips.

“Princess—“

Once again, you're completely at her mercy, drowning in anticipation. As those lips go deeper, she takes half your length, slowly bobbing her head to get reacquainted with this wonderful taste. Her warm, slick mouth works you over so expertly, tongue gliding along the underside of your cock to lavish everything it touches.

The perfect rhythm, those pretty eyes gazing at your reaction—this is all so formulaic, and yet each time still feels as divine as the last. Your tip presses right at the entrance of her throat as Wonyoung dares herself to test her limits, but that gag reflex rudely interrupts.

The strong grip on your thighs keeps her steady, but she backs out rather quickly, leaving a glistening trail behind as she pops off, gasping lightly from the temporary intrusion. “I’ll take you all down, I promise.”

She lets out a content sigh, placing more loving, wet kisses on either side of your cock before her mouth dives back down. Determined to swallow you all up to the base, Wonyoung does so with relative ease, her throat relaxing, welcoming it all in. Inch by inch, she conquers your length, taking that thick cock until her nose nestles at your stomach—every throbbing part in the warm depths of her throat, buried right where it belongs.

“Ah fuck—“

If only Yujin could walk in right now and see her at work, on her own bed no less. She’d be more proud above all else, despite finding something wrong with her technique.

Wonyoung's gone well above and beyond, taking in every last inch at this point, more than a little eager at getting so messy when her drool runs down your cock. She’s absolutely starved for it all. She’ll do whatever she can to keep those moans going as she pins your hips down to the mattress, delivering pleasure like no one else can. These long strokes down her throat that get you all delirious.

“Just like that, fuck—keep that pretty fucking mouth right there,” you demand, and when you reach for the top of her head to press her down, Wonyoung doesn't push away—only giving you everything needed to hold her there for as long as you want.

Wonyoung is more than willing to let you choke her with your cock, favoring your length stuffed down her throat over everything else. The only sounds out of her besides the constant gurgle of spit, are the pitiful, desperate, yet grateful little moans, maintaining all this eye contact despite how many times your throbbing cock presses deep into the back of her throat.

Those teary eyes, they watch intently, because this is what gets her off the most, expertly sucking cock while the faces you're making encourages her all the more. It's a sight to behold, how she gets between your legs, devotedly sucking your dick as if nothing else matters to her.

It’s an art form really, how Wonyoung can wring out so much pleasure like she has something new to prove.

But for a moment, those pretty hands take the lead while her mouth rests. One strokes you with those slender fingers so vigorously, spitting all over your length to rub it all in, while the other plays with your balls, testing how full she’s made them.

It’s not out of the ordinary to sneak a quick handjob in the morning while Yujin is still fast asleep besides you, so in need of claiming your first orgasm in the morning before you’ve even left the sheets.

But getting this glorious blowjob, there isn't anything quite like the warmth of her throat, even as the need to please you clashes with the gag reflex that she tries to overcome. In all honestly, you like hearing this struggle, the way Wonyoung chokes and gags on your length while putting your pleasure first, eyes watering, but never failing to give your cock exactly what it demands.

“That’s it, choke on that fucking cock, god, princess—“ And she listens so obediently, holding you there for a moment longer until she doesn’t—retreating all too suddenly, letting your shaft throb freely when it slips from between her lips.

"Tell me how good I am first, daddy. Tell me how good I am at sucking your cock and I'll keep this in my mouth,” Wonyoung responds after backing off, gasping as she does so, drool running down her chin. “I’ll get my lips right down to your balls and get you off so fucking hard…”

Wonyoung always knows the worst time to get demanding, the perfect time to tease when she knows you need it the most, yearning for the touch of her mouth, ready to do whatever she asks. Before you get another word in, she’s covering your cock in slow, heavy kisses, a barrage to add to her saliva so she can savor you with her pretty lips.

There’s no use hiding your desperation as she continues these noisy, open-mouthed kisses all the way down to your balls and back up again, while your tip remains swollen, unattended to, aching for those pillowy lips again.

"Princess, need that pretty mouth back on me right now. Need it so bad, back where it belongs—" you plead, but this doesn't dissuade her one bit as she keeps taunting you, with her mouth that refuses to wrap fully back around the head of your cock.

"You didn't even tell me what I wanted. Not gonna do anything else until I get what I want, daddy."

Once again, she needs that satisfaction like oxygen, needs to hear the words falling out of your mouth while she lies there motionless, waiting and ready. Wonyoung wears a look of impatience, falling back into that wicked smirk while her lips part just the tiniest bit more, brushing teasingly close to your dick. "God, your mouth, princess—it's so perfect, and those fucking lips, love how they look wrapped around my cock."

Her hot, heavy breath is all you’re getting for now until you give in, until you meet the exact quota of praise she craves. "Tell me I'm better than Yujin. Tell me I make you cum harder, tell me, daddy."

"Princess, stop—"

"No, daddy, tell me. You know I suck your cock the best. All you have to do is say it. Tell me how much better my mouth feels, how much you prefer me swallowing your cum over Yujin.”

It's all part of this devilish game that she loves to play, making it worse by blowing warm air right over the tip, those swollen, red lips getting within kissing distance before pulling away without the slightest brush. You know she's just dying to take you back into her mouth again, but she’ll tease you forever if you don’t give her the right answer.

You give a heavy sigh in defeat. There's no fighting against this brat, not when you’re so rock fucking hard. “You’re the absolute best, princess. Nobody sucks dick better than you—not even Yujin. Your mouth is better, and nobody can make me cum like you can.”

“Wasn’t that easy? I knew you loved my mouth more,” Wonyoung says, hearing just what she needs to hear, and finally, those sweet lips find their rightful place, easing the frustration you've dealt with. They part with ease, swallowing down your length in one movement, and then it’s an endless repetition of her warm mouth down to your base.

Wonyoung keeps you buried inside her throat, wanting to choke on you longer than the previous attempt. Her eyes water a little more every time her nose nudges against your abdomen.

This momentum keeps going, a combination of that intense suction, the messy sounds from slobbering everywhere, and the incredible warmth—everything mixes so perfectly, and even better, the look in her eyes when your dick is so far down her throat.

“Fuck, your mouth, it feels so good, so goddamn good, love when you choke on my cock like this.“

“Don’t worry, daddy, not gonna stop, gonna choke on this thick cock until you cum down my fucking throat. Need my tummy so full.”

It’s rather indulgent for both of you; Wonyoung, who loves slobbering on your length as much as you love hearing all her obscene slurps, and the feeling of those silky soft lips sliding so wonderfully down your shaft, taking you so, so deep. You’re fighting the temptation to take over, to fuck her face so roughly until that makeup she spends so long on is all ruined, because this is her show—you’re just here to enjoy it.

When the pace starts to falter, she lets your cock slip out of her mouth to focus on your balls, drawing each one into her hot mouth, to give some much needed attention.

Wonyoung loves taking turns between worshiping your length and those balls, so full of your delicious load she can't wait for, tasting and fondling them to her heart's desire. Her pretty little hands still pump around your shaft when her lips aren't surrounding you, and that hungry little mouth keeps slurping wherever she can, making such loud, obscenely wet noises.

“Mmmph, fuck, daddy—your balls feel so nice and heavy. So full of cum all ready for me to drain, aren’t they?”

It’s beyond pornographic how Wonyoung devours every part of you, and she’s not done giving you all the pleasure you can handle, not until her tongue moves down lower past your balls, traveling where it doesn’t typically go. You have no use for words, just heavy breaths, reacting almost involuntarily as her tongue swirls against your asshole, flicking against that most sensitive, tight opening.

“Jesus, fuck, Wony—“

It’s quite unexpected, but no less welcome, the way that wet, wonderful tongue stimulates you in ways that make your head spin. She's dedicated to this, keeping a hand wrapped around your cock while her mouth is busy, making you feel a rush of pleasure like no other, rimming your ass without an ounce of shame.

You can see her entire grin between licks, and her focus lies with pleasuring your asshole, slobbering and working the tip of her tongue at such a gentle speed, easing in all this pleasure. And somehow, this is a level of vulnerability that's unfamiliar, leaving you overwhelmed by escalating bliss when Wonyoung goes as far as burying her tongue inside your ass, delving as deep as possible. "Yujinnie said you loved this, daddy.”

And god, she’s never been so right.

You’re utterly at Wonyoung’s mercy while she laps at your asshole with her tongue, occasionally pulling away to lick at your balls. All in addition to her hand pleasuring your shaft, not leaving any part of you neglected.

It’s every bit unfair that her tongue feels so good against this unexplored area, your nerves going wild. Because it’s not enough that she’s great at giving head and riding your dick. She has to be so good at something only Yujin only does, your body nothing but receptive to pleasure that's reducing you to a mess faster than you'd care to admit.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, really, that this girl can eat ass like a pro. You’ve seen her go to town on Yujin dozens of times, either to get all prepped to take a pounding in her ass or because she absolutely loves doing it. But this—this pleasure has no right being so good, so sinfully indulgent. Wonyoung just has to show off her expertise, that she’s good even at this, her tongue making a complete meal out of your ass.

And from now on, you’ll have to make sure Wonyoung includes this in her oral repertoire, because that bratty mouth is capable of far more than just complaining.

She works your cock faster while her mouth stays occupied with your asshole, giving more bliss than you know how to handle. Each and every stroke keeps you so painfully hard in her firm grip, her tongue shoved so deep, immersed in this ass licking that steals all these moans out of you, that even Yujin would be speechless.

If you're not careful, you’ll explode in no time—but Wonyoung knows exactly how far to push this when you're getting on the edge, knowing full well when to pull back so she can go right back to sucking you off, because that's the only way she wants this huge load.

So rather regretfully (or maybe thankfully), you’re given a break from this wonderful tonguefuck, with no hopes of trying to collect yourself. Then, without further warning, Wonyoung takes your cock down her throat, all in one motion, like it was never a struggle from the beginning.

"Princess, wait—"

Your poor dick can't take much more, leaking so much, throbbing so hard—but more than anything, you feel the need to reciprocate, after Wonyoung giving a whole new level of pleasure. "Need to taste you. Need that pretty little cunt in my mouth right now."

As usual, there's a pout that leaves her lips when she's so clearly disappointed, hating the thought of losing her favorite treat. But there's no need to stop what she's so focused on doing when you, in fact, can still return the favor—at the same time.

"Come over here,” you beckon over with a finger, and it doesn’t take long for Wonyoung to crawl up the bed, piecing together the puzzle of what comes next.

Her pout suddenly disappears while you tug at the waistband of her pretty panties, and she gets the message loud and clear, slowly turning around so you can see what the pink lace hardly hides beneath—a perfect, tight ass that looks devastatingly good in lingerie. But it's not an image you get to savor for long as she peels it down and flings it off somewhere across the bedroom, bringing her pussy and those pale cheeks back right where you need them: facing your hungry, depraved stare, showing off everything.

There's something unbelievably satisfying about having this view—even better when you pull her body closer to let her straddle your face, ready to lose yourself in this absolute feast right above you.

“Daddy…“ Not another word leaves your mouth as you dive in between her thighs, your tongue grazing those slick folds to lap at her needy cunt. When those pillowy cheeks press right against your face, that’s when the real treat starts, all for you to enjoy as your tongue explores her warmth. You're devouring Wonyoung from the start, straight for those soaked lips to get your tongue all over her slit, exploring with vigorous licks to drink up her arousal and spread her mess everywhere in the process.

“Oh god, daddy,” Wonyoung squeals, before that devilish mouth gets occupied by something far better, moaning over your cock, somehow holding back as much as she can while you lose yourself. She’s in utter bliss as you eat her out, and you keep a firm grasp on her taut buttcheeks, spreading them open to keep your tongue buried inside her wet cunt while you work your way up towards her sensitive clit.

She isn't going to let herself get distracted either, picking up right where she left off, drooling all over your dick in between messy slurps. Nothing gets her more excited than pleasing you, moaning for the thick cock that she needs in the back of her throat, the taste that she can’t go without.

"Fuck, princess," you manage between heavy breaths, trying to keep an even, slow pace with your tongue. A near impossible task, so lost in how amazing her mouth is on your dick, savoring every second her arousal coats your lips. “You taste so damn good. God, I could eat your pussy like this for hours.”

"And I could keep sucking daddy off for even longer—" she retorts, not breaking the pace of this sloppy suction that sounds almost as good as it feels.

While Wonyoung doesn’t let up with her oral assault, you're intent on playing with her clit, circling it with the flat of your tongue and flicking without any proper direction, slurping so harshly when it’s between your lips. You’re just trying to survive that warm mouth whenever she swallows you down, finding the only distraction is to bury your face in her slick heat.

It really doesn't get better than this.

You’re making an absolute mess between her legs, and in exchange she’s treating your shaft so well, bobbing her pretty head to get your length down, to take in every single inch she can get.

"Daddy—" she sighs between licking her own saliva off your cock, and takes these shallow breaths that are anything but steady. Wonyoung can barely keep it together. All these frantic licks you give her needy clit make her moan so desperately against your throbbing shaft when you do so, downright devouring her cunt.

“That feels so fucking good—you're so good with your tongue, daddy, please don't stop—"

Like you can hardly think of anything else but eating Wonyoung’s delicious pussy, your new purpose in life only to drive her wild and keep all these juices flowing. There's absolutely nothing you'd rather have right now but your tongue prodding so deep inside this pretty sopping hole.

The mere noises she makes while you’re teasing and slurping on her cunt is a reward on its own. The most adorable whimpers and whines always slip out whenever your tongue enters her wetness, no matter how hard she tries to hold them back.

"Daddy, oh my fucking god—" Wonyoung keeps rocking her hips, barely able to do anything but pump your cock in her hand while she selfishly grinds her dripping cunt right on your face. "You’re gonna make me cum if you keep fucking doing that."

That’s exactly where you need her. You can taste exactly how close she is—so close—from her juices flooding your tongue, and that only makes you more driven to push her over that edge, licking, sucking, doing all that's needed to have Wonyoung make a mess all over your face. Her hips can't stop moving, so desperate for friction, so, so desperate for release, whimpering and begging all while she rides your face and chokes her moans on your cock.

You do everything you can to get her to the end, tongue lapping up all the nectar that spills from her pussy, so ravenous to taste all those delectable juices flooding your mouth. She’s equally eager and enthusiastic to take in more than she should, to make a sloppy mess of your shaft, trying her hardest to take you to the hilt while utterly lost in euphoria.

“Almost there—“ she gasps out, and her hot breath spurs on your efforts when she swallows you right down to your balls, the one last thing that sets her off. With a muffled cry against your cock, Wonyoung shakes so hard from your tongue buried deep inside, and her arousal gushes out for you to swallow eagerly, her creamy thighs violently trembling over you while you savor this mess.

It’s a high so intense that it seems endless, lingering while you lick her through it to ride it all out, almost to the point of a second one right after. Once Wonyoung recovers some of her composure, all that attention goes right back to your cock—holding your hips tight, so she can fuck her face on you so vigorously, barely able to keep up as she attempts to finish you off.

"Jesus, that throat feels so fucking good, princess, fuck—"

And god, you have no chance to fight back when your cock gets so submerged down Wonyoung’s throat, all the warmth that engulfs, her face between your legs so desperate to drain your balls.

All you can do is surrender to the pleasure as her ravenous mouth takes over, her throat enticingly guiding you towards that edge. You're beyond capable of articulating anything other than needy groans, not with how Wonyoung's gagging on your length with no regard whatsoever for anything but making sure you unload deep in her mouth.

She doesn’t relent one bit through all this sloppiness, her wet throat choking around the entirety of your shaft to urge your orgasm out. Wonyoung knows a huge, creamy load is building inside of you, and she’ll do whatever it takes to milk it out. You’re not done on your end either, tongue back on her oversensitive clit, licking with so much endless fervor to get another messy release out of her right along with yours.

“Down my throat, daddy, right now,” she urges, right before another toe-curling orgasm rocks her right against your face. By this point, you're ready to follow right behind, groaning heavily as she keeps sputtering and gagging with only one purpose, to guzzle this inevitable load right down her throat.

“Princess—“

Wonyoung’s a master at what’s next—before you can fully process it, your shaft is buried down her throat, violently pulsating as she squeezes your balls tight, forcing all of your cum right down the back of her throat.

You've got a grip on her ass as tight as you can brace yourself while she draws that load out, greedily swallowing as much hot seed as her pretty little mouth can handle. Wonyoung guzzles it down with nothing but pride, even what overflows down to your balls, emptying everything you’ve got straight into her stomach as if she's been waiting all day for a load like this.

Nothing escapes—not when she keeps you stuffed down her throat, keeping you throbbing far long after you’ve been drained, taking every drop that’s earned.

In the wake of it all, when she’s done her job and your balls have been completely emptied, you’re left a sweaty, panting mess, drowning in euphoric bliss while you stay in her throat.

Because nobody can make you cum like Wonyoung’s mouth can.

But she’s not done—it’s pure greed, even when your cock is all sore and sensitive, she keeps going, licking up the length of your shaft to clean up anything she may have missed. Wonyoung knows you'll need a moment, that it's not like your balls could produce any more cum so soon after such an intensive explosion in her mouth. Yet, she's definitely not about to let that stop her from trying to milk another thick load, using every method at her disposal to get your overstimulated dick to yield a reward from those swollen balls.

(No doubt, she learned that from Yujin, because they both have a knack for draining you like it’s essential to their survival.)

It’s a torturous mixture of painful pleasure, when her mouth gets back on you, slow and steady, every motion a reminder that your poor, oversensitive shaft can't take anything else. Yet, you have trouble getting any words out, struggling to put together a proper sentence to protest.

"Ah, fuck, princess, wait—"

She keeps swallowing you all up for several more slurps, until her hot mouth releases your cock with a wet, loud pop, flicking at your slit for a moment longer just to drive you crazy. And while you're too obstructed by Wonyoung's wet cunt to see what's going on, you know there's a sinister little smirk at the other end. "Too sensitive, daddy?"

You groan out something that resembles an answer—not that Wonyoung didn’t already know before you've opened your mouth, but that doesn't mean she’ll stop her magic on your dick that's far too sore for a second orgasm anytime soon.

So, she keeps a tight grip, letting this contradictory form of bliss linger as her soft hands caress the entire length of your aching cock. There are no doubts about how sensitive you are, and yet—she wants to get one more load out of you, somehow, thumbing over your swollen tip just to hear how helpless you'll sound in a moment of vulnerability.

"Fine, daddy. We'll do something else,” she says with a disappointed sigh. For now, Wonyoung plans on leaving your cock alone, so that your sensitive length can recover for her next pounding. Instead, she mounts your chest with that alluring look on her face to kiss you, tasting herself on your lips.

"Let's see what Yujin keeps around here…“

When you lose the comforting weight of her petite body, you barely have time to figure out what that means when Wonyoung looks around in search of anything that could aid in this mission of making you cum once again. She scrounges around the room like a detective on the hunt for clues, digging through drawers, closets, anywhere someone curious might look until—

"Ooh, what's this?"

You’re still in recovery mode, and from your point of view, all you can see is Wonyoung finding something underneath the bed—a rather large black box that’s surprisingly discreet, given what must be inside. She hoists it onto the mattress with a puzzled look on her face, running her thumb over something in the front. "It's locked. Needs a code, daddy."

At first, you think she's joking, but when she passes you the box, you immediately notice that yes, there's a simple four-digit dial presumably holding the entire thing shut. What surprises you the most isn't that it's here, but that it's locked in the first place—there's hardly any secrets kept between you three, spending half the time all sweaty and naked together, sharing just about every moment there is with each other. But the more you think about it—the more you realize this is less a box of secrets and more... a surprise.

"Oh, wait. I know, it must be daddy's birthday." Surely, it can't be that easy, that there has to be at least a little challenge to figure it out—but before you can even finish your thought, you hear the click of the lock as it opens up. "Oh, look at that. I'm a genius."

You'll let her have this moment of glory, trying not to roll your eyes as Wonyoung flips the lid open and peers inside. She gives a dramatic gasp and runs a finger over the velvety interior before digging through what appears to be an arsenal of sex toys: handcuffs, rope, blindfolds, various paddles, plugs, and several things you don't even know the purpose of. But there's something at the very bottom that grabs her attention the most, and Wonyoung removes a pink leather collar, one that has the word 'Brat' inscribed in rhinestones on the front, dangling a metal ring in the center.

"Looks like that's for you," she teases, examining the collar and how it couldn't be anymore perfectly tailored to her as she looks through the rest of the box for anything of note. Of course, there's a plethora of fun in there, but nothing you really haven't seen before, nothing that you or Yujin haven't used on Wonyoung at this point.

"Let's see how this looks on me."

Unsurprisingly, it fits Wonyoung just right as she fastens the collar around her neck, playing with the ring as she proudly shows it off. "Pretty, right?"

It's more than pretty, seeing the light pink against Wonyoung's delicate pale skin as it's now firmly wrapped around her neck, the color matching her discarded thong that's long forgotten somewhere on the bedroom floor. "Not bad."

"Not bad?" she huffs, annoyed that you can't be more impressed, even more offended that you haven’t given her a barrage of compliments. "Ugh, fine. I know how I can make it look better."

Suddenly, Wonyoung kneels on the mattress, unhooking her lace bra in a swift, graceful movement to give you a glorious view of her body on full display. All that milky skin, her perky tits with those pretty nipples, but now your attention is fully directed on the leather wrapped around her neck as she lies down and spreads her legs so invitingly. "How about now? Isn’t this where a brat is supposed to be? On my back, legs spread, all ready to serve?"

"Since when are you so obedient?"

"Never. I'm just letting you think I am."

Despite what she says, Wonyoung always demands to be manhandled by either you, or Yujin (or both). Labeling her a brat is an understatement; she relishes in provoking you, yet equally revels in the consequences and punishment she rightfully deserves.

As she's self proclaimed—Wonyoung isn't a good girl.

You look through the box of toys one more time before moving it over to the nightstand, just in case you'll need it later. Upon your return, you straddle her petite, pretty body, staring her down for a moment, letting the anticipation build while you decide on where to start. "Princess—"

"Yes, daddy?"

She looks so good like this, completely naked underneath you that there’s no shortage of options for how you can toy with her body. "What should I do with you?"

"Whatever daddy wants."

That's too simple of an answer. You've got plenty of ideas swirling around in your head, most of them involving leaving this bratty girl a whimpering mess by the end of it all. And yet, it's so hard to pinpoint exactly where to start. "That's boring, princess. Don't make me choose."

She pretends to think long and hard about it, as if there's anything she wants other than to be completely ruined—the usual treatment. "Dunno. Surprise me, daddy."

That doesn't exactly help, but when has she ever cooperated in any meaningful way? But if Wonyoung wants to be surprised—then you'll do just that and oblige her.

"What color?" you ask, offering no further explanation.

"What color for what?" Wonyoung asks, tilting her head slightly in confusion. You give no further details.

"Just answer the question, princess."

Wonyoung's not oblivious to what possibilities lie before her, but still hesitates to give anything substantial. "Hmm, well this is pink… so that means I should pick something else doesn't it?"

Of course, never straight to the point with her, nor willing to offer a simple answer. It's exactly what you should expect from Wonyoung, and god knows she'll drag this out if you really let her. But if she wants to keep stalling, you'll just end up picking for her. "Do I have to specify every fucking thing I ask you, brat?"

She's certainly earned that title.

"Blue, I guess." It sounds indifferent, just answering to get you to stop asking—but this is Wonyoung, you have to remind yourself, who’ll spend an hour in her closet trying to decide which one of twelve different pairs of shoes that all look the exact fucking same she wants. "No, red. I want red."

Again, never a straight fucking answer out of her, like you've given her the most difficult decision in her life. "Are you sure about that, princess?"

She doesn't even answer at first, Wonyoung doing everything in her power to protest even the littlest thing, making sure you don’t forget the word that’s etched across her collar. "I said I wanted red, daddy."

That fucking attitude never ceases to show up when it's least welcome. Normally, you'll fight it right away, but this one time you just let it slide, which seems to only make matters worse, as if you’ve insulted her by doing so. “Okay then. That's your choice.”

Then there's just silence filling the room while you have this stare down with Wonyoung, waiting to see who'll back down first. It's definitely not going to be you. The tension builds without anyone saying a word, and it's clear neither of you have any plans to back down or concede. In fact, her bratty little glare grows with intensity until—

"Arms up, princess."

There's no telling how this will go, but you have a suspicion that it’ll end up the same exact way. You're sure today won't be any exception. "Sorry? Didn't hear that, daddy."

"I said—arms up. Brat. I'm not going to ask again."

Judging by that arrogant little smirk on her face, you know Wonyoung heard you the first time. And it’s exactly what you expect as a response.

Without warning, you seize each of her dainty wrists, stretching both arms over her head to pin them against the pillows. That's when you go for the box on the nightstand, finding exactly what you need in no time—a long bundle of red rope that's perfect for tying up an uncooperative brat.

Taking one more look at the nightstand, you’re tempted to find something to silence that fucking mouth—then again, you’d never miss a chance to hear her beg for more, or those pretty little moans that'll slip out when she's absolutely lost in bliss. So, instead you're settling for this, winding the rope around Wonyoung's wrists to bind them together, tight and secure, forcing her arms to remain up and out of the way.

"Much better. Must you be so difficult? Disobedient little slut."

Her eyes gleam at the harsh words, a low whimper falling from her parted lips. Once the rope is secured and tied in a tight knot, there's no escape. Despite that, you go the extra mile just to be sure the binds won't come loose so easily. "But daddy likes it that way, doesn't he?"

You can't exactly deny any of those words.

She's doing this for your benefit equally as much as to annoy you. And you can't say you don't enjoy putting Wonyoung in her place, especially when this is the end result—bound and spread out all for you, helpless and at your complete mercy.

"Fucking brat. You think I like having to do this? All this extra effort?"

"Uh-huh. Daddy loves tying me all up so I can't escape, so he can use me how he wants." Wonyoung starts squirming a bit in her tight restraints before raising her hips, giving a sinful view of her wet, dripping cunt that looks oh so enticing. "And since I'm such an unruly, disobedient little slut—"

Your expectant gaze wanders right between her pretty thighs, looking long and hard at those plump pussy lips that make your mouth water, so desperate to sink your cock straight into that wet, tight cunt. Wonyoung can't hide her satisfaction either of being restrained like this, relishing the feeling of being trapped, completely at your mercy, unable to move without your help. "Daddy's gonna have to make me behave..."

"Oh, don't you fucking worry about that." The threat comes with a guarantee as you spread Wonyoung's thighs further apart, getting a closeup look at all her drenched flesh covered with arousal in the process, just waiting to be used. It makes your cock ache. “Daddy’s gonna fuck the brat out of you.”

Wonyoung tries to close her thighs shut at the thought of that, already so fucking wet and needy, but you’re not having it. Her pretty cunt practically screams to be filled, while you open those creamy thighs back up that feel so hot against your palms when you run your hands across them.

"I'm so ready to be all stretched out by your big, throbbing cock." It's hardly subtle, those depraved words spilled out so breathlessly that it drives you crazy—not even sure which of you needs this more, her or you. "Fill me all the way up, daddy."

Now that you've got her like this, completely at your whims, you've got time on your side to really tease Wonyoung to her wit’s end. "Got a better idea. Maybe I'll use one of these toys Yujin left us. That's what they're for, isn't it? So many to choose from, I can take my time…”

She shakes her head a bit, not liking what she’s hearing one bit. "No, daddy, please. These toys aren't as good as your amazing cock. They can't pump a big load inside my pussy like you can."

Her demeanor changes so quickly, a flick of a switch how her tone softens now that the threat of denial is looming over her head. You have Wonyoung right where you want her, and how much effort she’s going to put in to earn your cock—well, that all depends on her.

“Daddy's poor balls must be aching. They look so full and heavy—they need emptying again, don't they? Don't you wanna dump a massive load inside my pussy?"

She's too good at this, at trying to tempt you with words alone. There's no denying how well it's working, getting you so fucking hard, with this urge rising and building inside you. But you can't falter, not yet, not when you're pulling all the desperation out of Wonyoung with so much more to go.

"Who said anything about dumping a load inside you? I've got you to myself right here. When I’m done, I can just jerk myself off all over your pretty naked body. Maybe even leave you all tied up here for Yujin to play with after. This is her room, after all."

"Daddy, no! That's not fair. You're supposed to use me. And fill me up with cum. That's what I'm here for. To be your pretty little cum dump. Then to keep your dick all nice and warm after..."

How cute, how she tries to guilt you in to letting her get what she wants. Shameless doesn't even begin to describe Wonyoung, but that’s precisely what makes this so fun to deny her. "Or—I could just fuck Yujin right here. On her bed. Right in front of you. She loves my cock just as much as you, doesn't she? Maybe even more. What if I emptied my balls into her instead?"

"Daddy wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I? Yujin wouldn’t have any trouble riding me while we make you watch, not touching you. Make sure I only fill her up. You enjoy watching us fuck all the time already. Why is this any different? Maybe we'll keep your pretty pussy untouched for the rest of the weekend. I’ll just let her cum on my cock over and over until we tire out…"

More than anything, the idea of going any length of time without your cock inside Wonyoung seems to rile her up the most, hitting all the right nerves that get exactly the reaction you want out of her.

"Daddy wouldn't be able to go through with that. You love my pussy way too much," she pouts, clearly getting frustrated at all your empty promises. "I'm the prettiest and the tightest. Don't you remember the first time you came inside me? How much cum you emptied? No way daddy can't go a whole day without this tight little pussy wrapped around your big, perfect cock..."

Oh, she knows better. Wonyoung knows perfectly well how this need is mutual, how little either of you can go without getting some relief, finding any excuse to fuck. Better yet, there's nothing Yujin would love more than that—you flooding her cunt with an endless amount of cum while this poor girl stays all tied up, only able to watch from the sidelines. But neither of you are actually that cruel, as fun as that temptation is.

"Daddy, please. Put that big dick in me. I'll let you use me as much as you want, pound me until you give me a nice warm creampie—a thick one I can feel right here, deep inside me."

She’s pulling strings that have no control attached to them.

“But what if I wanna fuck your ass first? Or use your throat while your head hangs off the edge of this bed just the way you like, hm, princess?"

"Anything, daddy can use any part of me. Fuck whatever hole he wants. Just—please, can't wait, need to have that dick in me right now. Don't care where it goes—"

Now, you could really keep this going, but there's not much point when she's reduced to begging so pathetically like this, already way past the breaking point. So there's really only one thing left to do. “Of course I’m gonna fuck you. And cum in you. Needy fucking slut.”

"Daddy's needy little slut," she corrects with the biggest sigh of relief. "Wreck my little pussy. Don't hold back anything or go easy on me."

You're more than a little annoyed that she thinks you ever would. "Quiet, princess. All that bratty mouth is good for is making my dick wet."

Without waiting for another response, you're grabbing Wonyoung’s body and pulling her closer towards you to line yourself up properly with her dripping entrance. Just the tip of your cock presses right up against that hot, slick opening, ready to fill her up and stretch her wide open. There's no rush, not when you can see the anticipation in her eyes, so desperate for your first thrust.

Before you satisfy her needs—needs that you both crave, you take a moment to let it sink in: how Wonyoung is all tied up, helpless, with her arms bound above her head and the prettiest collar around her neck, only able to take whatever you have to offer.

“Such a pretty little thing, all tied up, ready for this fucking cock. Gonna have a lot of fun with you, princess.”

You don’t have any time to wait for a response, and slowly, you ease your shaft in, inch by inch, groaning at the overwhelming pleasure of sinking into her warmth. Wonyoung's so unbelievably drenched, yet so fucking tight as you push yourself in as deep as possible. It's the perfect stretch of her walls as you slide the entirety of your hard cock into this tight, little hole, unable to hold back any moans at how ready her pussy is to take you—until you're balls fucking deep inside her.

“Daddy—“

"God, princess, love how fucking tight you are. Your greedy little cunt is just begging for a huge load in it, isn’t it?”

Wonyoung just nods wordlessly, struggling with the bratty facade now that she's got exactly what she needs, all this heat enveloping your shaft so nicely. You don't even bother to move your hips, not yet, opting to leave your dick inside her, lost in that incredible wetness that pulls you right in—but not for too long.

Before she can even complain, your hands settle firmly over her tiny waist to keep her in place as you slide the entirety of your length back out in one fluid motion, all the way back to the very tip—then immediately thrust back in full force, impaling Wonyoung with your cock.

"Oh god—" she gasps, the stretch so sudden as she tightens around your cock so deliciously. And you're quick to follow up with more, because there's only one way this is going to go. There's no patience left, and your only plan is to pound into her pussy hard and fast like you never have before.

"How's that dick feel in you, brat? This is what you needed, right? Just how you like it?"

"Y-yes, right there, daddy," Wonyoung whines, losing all of that attitude in an instant, giving in to every little sensation that floods her body. "Ah—so good. My pussy loves having your dick in me. Fuck me, fuck me until your balls are empty."

Like there was ever a question you intended to do anything else.

You've been storing up all this pent up frustration to fuel your hips, every forceful thrust completely ravaging her. The pace isn't even remotely gentle, knowing full well Wonyoung needs this pounding more than ever as your cock plunges into her wet heat without even the slightest pause.

"Your pussy feels so fucking good," you growl, unable to tear your gaze away from her perfect features, how she lies there helplessly, taking your cock so well.

You can barely handle how goddamn tight she is. With each deep stroke, her sticky arousal clings to your throbbing shaft, running down the length while her mouth hangs open to release every breathless moan.

"Give me more, daddy. Harder—"

Even all tied up, this girl thinks she's in charge here. "Needy slut. You're lucky I'm fucking you in the first place. Your pussy should be thanking me."

"Th-thank you, daddy," she moans, in absolute fucking ecstasy, her perfect cunt squeezing the life out of your cock whenever you bottom her out. Her entire body gets rocked with the sheer force of every harsh, deep thrust, her cute breasts doing their best to bounce along to this unforgiving rhythm that hasn't even begun to settle. "Harder, p-please—"

"Oh, so you do know how to ask nicely? But only when I have my cock buried in you?"

Wonyoung only lets out a strangled gasp in response from another hard thrust, saying nothing more and resorting to desperate whining each time your cock completely fills her to the hilt. Your urge to deny her has all but vanished, with her sticky warmth enveloping the entirety of your shaft when your cock fills cunt—so hard, so goddamn deep, enough to overwhelm her, and she can’t even scramble for anything in reach to grab on to.

Every single time you slide out, her slick, tight walls pull you right back in, making it impossible to ignore the ravenous clutches of her cunt. Soaked can’t even begin to describe her slick entrance, an abundance of arousal ensuring the path is paved for your cock to ram into her pussy unimpeded.

“Feels so good, daddy," Wonyoung breathes out, her face inching closer when you lean forward, lifting those lusciously long legs up in the air to place them over your shoulders with her feet left dangling in the air helplessly.

Nothing holds you back when you’ve got her all folded up, your hips dominated by lust and pleasure as her pliant body accepts this pounding so effortlessly. The room resonates with flesh meeting flesh, and it all feels a little too unreal. Every ounce of pleasure intensified as you plow into her tight heat that devours every inch you have.

“You're so deep in me—want you to cum, want you to cum so hard inside me, daddy—please."

That’s when you really start to give it to her.

The bed underneath Wonyoung creaks louder and louder in protest, being drowned out by the sinful sounds that escape her lips that urge your cock right back in.

You can see it in those fucking eyes, that she’s frustrated—unable to touch you, unable to wrap her arms around you and dig her nails right into your back. The poor thing can’t even touch herself to give that extra pleasure while you're railing her into the mattress like this. She'll survive, because it’s not like this isn't making her wetter by the moment, every second she's restrained like this, taking your cock with her mouth open and pussy swallowing all of you up.

“I think I like you best like this. Tied up and helpless with nothing to do but lay there, just a warm, wet hole for me to use until my load fills you."

Wonyoung can’t exactly disagree with that, even as much as she wants to have her hands wandering your body, tugging at your hair, or feeling your muscles flex under her fingers. “But doesn’t daddy miss when I wrap my legs around, so I can make sure all that cum goes deep inside me? You're going to cum in me, right?”

"Not if you keep asking me again and again. Maybe I'll just paint your pretty face and leave you here instead," you say, slowing your pace while you think it over. She just frowns, trying to use her cunt to encourage you, to make you keep going with extra force. Even when you shift the position of her legs, taking them off your shoulders to spread them wide as they’ll go, knees nearly to her chest so you can really drill her, she doesn’t give up.

"I know that's not what you really want," Wonyoung says, countering with a little smirk that contorts in pleasure when your cock angles at just the right spot. It never ends—even as your hips piston so viciously, and she takes the entire length of you right back down to the hilt with every stroke. That bratty mouth never stops.

“Daddy wants to cum in my needy little pussy. Why else would you be fucking me like you’re trying to break me? Why else would you put me in this position if you’re not going to breed me?”

“Do you ever—fucking stop talking? Regretting not gagging you from the start.”

“Not a chance daddy would do that. You like hearing me beg for your cock too much.” If her goal is to get you to lose control, to go as rough as you can get, she's absolutely going to get all that and more. You gain a new rush of energy to fuck your frustrations out, slamming into this blissful warmth that you're eager to spill your seed in despite what any other words that leave your mouth say.

“Inside me, daddy, deep inside," Wonyoung insists, voice faltering with every strained syllable, barely hanging on through all these forceful thrusts. She looks absolutely satisfied with you groaning above her, like her pussy controls your cock and not the other way around. “You wouldn't dream of pulling out—daddy wants to fill me so bad."

Can’t argue with that one bit. With her legs so helplessly in the air, she watches you pump away without restraint, into this intoxicating heat, until there’s no defenses left against the inevitable.

“Can feel you throbbing so much, daddy must be so close. My pussy needs it—please, pound my little hole until your balls empty, fill me to the brim,” she pleas so innocently, so sweetly, in contrast to your harsh, raw fucking that hasn't given even a moment's break since you lifted her legs up.

"You think you deserve that? You really think you deserve for me to breed you?" It’s a question unfitting an actual response, because like hell, you don't deserve to empty yourself into Wonyoung's warm little pussy. If anything, you deserve this reward for putting up with her for so long every single day.

"When has that ever stopped you before? Daddy always fills me even when I've been a bad girl. You love shooting all your hot cum inside and watching it slowly drip out of me..."

Once again, she has you there. All you can do is put more power into your hips, to make sure your climax arrives sooner, slamming your entire length so deep into that dripping cunt that's begging for your release. You're not leaving this bed until Wonyoung gets filled.

“Fucking brat. Only because your cunt feels so good is why I'm finishing inside you. And because Yujin isn't here to drain me."

Wonyoung isn't the least bit insulted by these words, smirking happily at getting what she thinks she oh so deserves. And while you might be the one in control, fucking her senseless with her legs obscenely spread up in the air like a toy for your own pleasure—she holds more power than you realize. Because, as always, you're giving her exactly what she wants, even when you pretend not to.

"Daddy, gonna—" is all she can get out before you feel her pussy begin to spasm violently around your shaft, clamping down so tightly you might burst before she does.

"Then fucking cum, you cock hungry little slut—then your pussy can have my load." You can't exactly blame her when you’ve been pounding her so harshly into the mattress, that she falls into an orgasm so quickly, reaching the height of her pleasure—and you're almost there yourself.

You can feel her orgasm rip through her body as she moans your name breathlessly, eyes rolling back into her head in bliss as your cock fills her sweet cunt over and over, the tip ready to erupt at any second. More than anything else, the thought of emptying your entire load into Wonyoung makes your hips buck even faster, until you're pushing her into yet another climax while desperately seeking relief yourself.

"You want a hot fucking creampie in your pretty little cunt, huh? That’s what you’ve been begging me for?" you growl, as you struggle to maintain this brutal pace, chasing after your own release, and Wonyoung can't even cling onto any part of you to help speed this all up. She only lets out all these fervent nods, still going through the motions of her own next impending orgasm, toes all curled, mouth wide open as her pussy clenches and clenches all around your aching shaft.

And it feels way too fucking amazing to resist.

Nothing stops you from plowing this girl who's so helplessly at your will, waiting for your cock to reward her, lips parted, eyes closed, the loop of her pretty collar dangling with each rock of your hips, until you’re right there at the end—

You fucking unload everything. Every drop that belongs to Wonyoung, every hot creamy spurt that she's craved for so long. Her gaze never falters while her pussy milks out all this cum right up into her womb, coating her insides with a massive thick load, just like she desperately needed.

Not for a second do you stop your harsh movements, pushing every bit of your heavy load deeper into this needy cunt. Wonyoung has never looked so pretty—arms bound, legs up, accepting all of your cum, her beautiful skin glistening with sweat from being used like this, red marks already forming around her delicate wrists, while your cock keeps pumping more and more thick, pearlescent cum into her.

Only then, do you ride this high, when you're so wonderfully exhausted from giving this brat everything until your balls have nothing more left to spill.

“Fuck, princess,” you mutter between pants for breaths. Her body is equally spent, still twitching in the aftershocks of her own blissful release, and the warm, messy load in her pussy. "Made me cum so much—"

“Don’t I always?” Wonyoung responds between tired gasps for air, and even on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, she still finds the energy to bite back.

You'd usually find your own snarky response to that, but you’re far too tired and much more interested in seeing the mess that’s been left inside her. When your cock slowly slides out of her freshly used cunt, a familiar sight greets you—so much thick, creamy white flowing out, mixed in with Wonyoung's own juices that looks absolutely exquisite spilling all over the inside of her creamy thighs.

“Shit—you’re fucking right. I love watching my cum drip out of you," you admit, trailing lazy fingers over her body, her glistening stomach, those perky breasts, and her delicate neck that looks so good with that little collar around it. Your touch wanders up to her face, caressing her cheek with a thumb, admiring the faint smile that graces those pink lips. "Love cumming inside you more than anything, princess."

Wonyoung doesn't say a thing except to giggle softly, more than a little pleased with herself. She's been in this bound state for long enough, so it’s about time to untie her, you think, loosening the knot enough to free those slender arms. You slip off the collar from her neck as well to make it easier to catch her breath, and rub the soreness out of those dainty wrists, kissing them as the rope slips off and goes forgotten.

For sure, Yujin is going to notice this all when she gets back and ask for details.

Now that Wonyoung can move around unrestricted, she uses her newfound freedom to prop her body up and lean in for a kiss. It's more subdued than you expected, given that she still needs a few fleeting moments to gather her senses while you slip a hand between her legs to play with the mess you've made in her cunt, making sure the remnants of your load don’t escape.

"It’s so much… so easy to make daddy cum, isn't it?" she says, still unable to breathe normally, a proud smile on her face like she didn't cream all over your cock an uncountable number of times either.

"Don’t make me regret untying you, princess. Next time I'm leaving one of those toys in you, shutting the door, and getting some peace and quiet."

"Like you could ever leave me. Daddy can't get enough of my tight little pussy."

"Brat."

"Daddy's brat."

#ive smut #kpop smut #wonyoung smut #reader insert #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #wonyoung x reader

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usedpidemo · 4 months ago

Text

Codependency (Ive Yujin)

On one side, there’s a mansion worthy portrait of you on the wall. On the other, wards and recognitions from numerous governing bodies with your name plastered in remembrance. The public knows more about the brand than the people behind it; that’s how business works. Unless your name happens to be Musk, Bezos, or Zuckerberg.

You’re nowhere near their level of wealth and influence—far from it—yet this entire building’s future rests on your shoulders. It’s not as easy as it looks.

You’ve always credited your guardian angel for keeping you from harm your entire life. It sounds religious, but from personal experience, it’s real.

She’s guiding you from the secluded corner of your office.

—————

“And that’s how we’ll proceed with operations moving forward,” you say to the executives in the room—except they're not physically there. Their faces are projected on screen, joining from different countries, with some even joining from home. To be quite frank, you understand very little about your own presentation, and had your acting not been Oscar-worthy, there’s more that would appear absurd than believable. “Do we have any questions?”

For the most part, the top brass appear to be in unanimous agreement with everything that has been laid out. Not a single question, complaint, or rebuttal from anyone.

“Well done, officer. You seem to have a complete grasp and understanding of the situation,” says one of the chiefs, his ripe old age showing through his slow, strained tone.

Another suit, much closer to your age—albeit barely (he’s in his mid-forties)—adds, “We expect an immediate turnaround, otherwise we may have to cut even more of our divisions off. Should this plan fail, we anticipate closure of even more of our departments, including yours.”

It’s not the most concerning thing you’ve heard this week, but it’s definitely up there–at least top three.

Nevertheless, you remain firm and bow to your superiors as you end the meeting. “Thank you sirs. We will do our best.”

As soon as the video call ends, you let out this deep sigh of relief that’s been repressed the entire time. Thank goodness you have an entire building floor and private office to yourself.

“Well fuck me,” you mutter, seemingly speaking to the void, taking all the deep breaths you need, wiping the sweat across your head with some tissue. “Tell me I followed through on everything, right?”

“Yeah. Apart from mixing a few things, you mostly got it.” Yujin’s voice emerges from the far end of the room, covered in darkness, away from anyone’s view. The papers on your desk aren’t actually documents or paperwork. In reality, they’re pages of a manuscript with a few instructional, handwritten notes attached. It’s not even your own writing; they’re curated by none other than Yujin herself. “I’d say I wouldn’t have noticed, even if they were a little too obvious at times.”

“These conferences are fucking tiresome. Nauseating even,” you reply. Yujin opens up the blinds, and you stagger away from the immediate sunlight piercing through the room. Simply put, you just want to throw up after yapping all that incomprehensible jargon. “You know what—why don’t we switch places next time? I think you’d be better at this than me, like you already are with everything.”

An unusual comment for the director to make to his assistant, but it’s true. Yujin is so good in every department that it’s borderline farcical. She’s incredibly reliable to the point where you’ve basically deferred nearly every task to her, leaving you with the most boring parts of your job, which mostly comprises of company meetings and private calls. She’s a relatively new hire, having worked in your department for a little over a year, yet her rise up the ranks has been nothing short of absurd.

“Please, let’s not get carried away,” she softly laughs, flashing a lovely smile you never grow tired of seeing—and you see her as soon as you walk into the building till you clock out. “I’m fine with the research and paperwork. Regardless of what you want to believe, I think you sold it well.”

You slump back in your chair, somewhat bothered at just how unbothered Yujin is. How she’s able to take all your responsibilities that you should be doing, and without protest. One look at her features tells you all you need to know: that she’s happy to work for you. She could easily be in your position right now, putting you through this exact hell. She could be on that screen making those very threats on your job, in fact. Instead, she prefers to be your subordinate.

If that wasn’t enough of an example, she’s gathering the papers on your desk, putting them back together, good as new. Then she brings you a cup of water from the dispenser. She’s enumerating a list of other, just as unintelligible things that may or may not be important to your discussion earlier. Meanwhile, you’ve been sitting in that chair, your thoughts wandering aimlessly, thinking about anything that isn’t work. It’s almost noon, yet your mind just wants to check out for the rest of the day.

“Um—sir? You okay?” Yujin waves a hand right in your face, snapping you from your tired daze.

You tilt up to her gaze, eyes weary. “Yeah. I’m just—tired.”

“Do you want me to leave? I’ll go and sort out the upper management on your behalf if you’re not feeling well.”

“Don’t.” You rise from your seat, telling her, “I’ll take care of it. Go and have lunch,” as you point at your wristwatch, both hands closely pointed at the top.

“You sure? You should go have lunch too,” she replies, showing an alarming amount of concern that it’s almost comical. “Don’t worry about me.”

Shaking your head, you respond, flashing a light grin to reassure her, “I can talk to them at any time. T your break. I’ll call you when I need anything.”

—————

Truth be told, you didn’t want to see her for the rest of the day, let alone seek her help.

Yujin is only one call away. After all, she’s your assistant, down to working right outside your office. She’s working on whatever nonsense you’ve assigned her, showing no signs of slowing down. Meanwhile, you can barely call today productive; you’ve only completed two pages of a draft for next week’s presentation. In the time spent between slowly chopping away and stalking her from behind the door, her pretty profile a sight for sore eyes, she’s probably completed this week’s assignments and halfway through the next. She’s that efficient.

Hours pass, until the day finally ends at five. At exactly the top of the hour, she lets herself into your office, her pleasant attitude still in full bloom. “Already completed all the tasks for today. How about you?”

Yujin is not even trying to gloat—not in the slightest—yet it sounds like a punch to the gut. You can only slam your chin flat on the desk in despair, shooting a tired glare at her. She tries to muffle her chuckle, trying to keep herself professional, not realizing you’ve already seen through her facade.

“You want me to help you out? I don’t mind working an hour longer if you need it.” She’s peeking her head over the laptop display, examining for the proof of concept—or lack thereof. “Didn’t I tell you to leave this five plan strategy to me?”

This amount of confidence should leave you battered and deflated. And yet, there’s a sense of relief knowing Yujin will get the job done no matter what you ask of her. It’s enough to turn that frown into a faint, encouraging grin.

“I guess so,” you tell her, putting down the screen. Getting up from your chair, you close the window blinds and block out the setting sun. “Maybe I’m just tired of deferring all my responsibilities to you, that’s all.”

Her smile looks innocent, demure even, it doesn’t make sense as to how irrevocably kind she is to you. As far as you know, your employees consider you as shrewd and as scummy as your superiors. Forget that you’ve been working here longer; they consider everyone that isn’t their fellow rank a corporate dirtbag who’d step over others the first opportunity they can. It’s a vicious cycle. To have someone like Yujin feels like an anomaly.

“Don’t worry about it, that’s why I’m getting paid right?” she answers back, pressing her palms on your desk. “Just do what you can and I’ll handle the rest.”

You’re pouring an espresso into a cup, before offering the drink to her. “We should talk, Yujin,” you say, filling up a separate glass with your own. Your fourth shot. “You got a minute or two?”

“Sure. I always have time for you.” Yujin sits up, taking the drink into her hand, crossing her leg. It’s nearly impossible to look anywhere else but on them. As if she couldn’t be any more perfect, in mind, character, and body. “Is there anything bothering you lately?”

Sitting across her with only a desk separating you, the words never come out. You’ve got plenty on your mind: the messy state of your department, the unreasonable expectations and demands of your superiors, the possibility of losing your job—and Yujin. She’s sitting right there, ready to hear you out, but you never find the conviction to confess your worries. The next few minutes are awkward silence, only broken by the occasional stir of teaspoon and the sip of coffee. It isn’t that she renders you speechless, though one would fairly assume as to why: she’s pleasant to look at, among other things. It also helps that her outfits have been getting skimpier over the past few weeks. Unsurprisingly, you let the flagrant violation of the dress code go unpunished.

“Sir? Is everything okay?” Yujin leans her head forward, noticing that you’re lost in thought. She places her cup on the desk. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyebrows instinctively rise. That glimmer of hope you showed moments ago disappears. What’s left is despair. “I think we might be fucked, Yujin.”

“Fucked? What do you mean by that?”

“We’re fucked. Like, we could be out of a job fucked.”

“Explain?” Yujin cannot comprehend it—then again, anyone else would react the same way. “Didn’t we give the board a five step plan earlier today?”

“We did,” you reply, finally mustering the strength to meet her eyes. “But here’s the thing: we don’t have the financial or human capacity to execute the plan. At least, in the time they demanded.”

“And? We did the research and even the hypotheticals!” You’ve never heard Yujin raise her voice even once—until now. “What could go wrong exactly?”

“They think we can course correct years worth of bad financial decisions in just a few months. That’s the problem. Either way, we’re fucked.”

“I don’t believe you.” Yujin forcefully rises from her seat, threatening to flip the desk. If she only had the strength. “After all the time I spent working on it, you want to wave the white flag and give up?”

You don’t really know how to answer her. At least, in a way that’s remotely graceful and easy to understand.

“I’m sorry, Yuj, but no matter what—”

“I’m trying—so fucking hard—” she huffs, her fist clenching, trembling violently— “to carry your fucking ass so that we could keep our livelihoods. And not just me or you, but also the hundreds working for us! I know you fucking hate their guts because they’ve said nothing but terrible things about you, and even if none of that is true because I know you better than anyone else in this fucking building, at least have the decency to salvage whatever’s left instead of being a fucking coward for once!”

Yujin doesn’t notice that she’s been outright screaming into your face. You’re taken aback, utterly in disbelief at what she just aired out. If she wasn’t kindness incarnate, she likely would have pulled you by the shirt and choked you till you passed out. She blinks. The realization hits, and she begins to crumble.

“Sorry” is the only thing she can say, in quiet mumbles, slowly falling back onto her chair. Her hands cover the lower half of her face, completely mortified. Her eyes are on the verge of tears before giving out and crying waterfalls. Eventually, she lowers her head out of shame.

Even before entrusting her with such a demanding assignment, you knew there was nothing other than divine intervention that could save your job. This wasn’t what you signed up for, and neither did Yujin. For the most part, this was only to save face. Your face. The board of directors didn’t have any objections after all, and were mostly agreeable with every step of the plan. Either that or their old age is catching up and they hardly understood a thing at all. Like you.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t excuse you from criticism. This is on you, and you should be held accountable. Instead of rightfully performing your part, you weighed down someone else with your burden. It’s the wake-up call you need.

Yujin shouldn’t feel guilty saying all of this and having to apologize. She’s crying on your desk, still softly apologizing between tears, “Sorry—I’m really sorry—” and your heart fucking drops.

It’s a terrible feeling.

“Yuj, please stop crying,” you mutter, caressing her shoulder. Seeing her look so defeated brings you more distress than anything, including the thought of losing your job. “I should be the one apologizing for putting you through all this. You’re right—”

“I’m so sorry.” She’s still asking for forgiveness, your words mostly going unnoticed. “I just wanted to—”

“You’re right, Yuj. I’m a coward. I’ll admit, I honestly wanted to resign the moment they brought this up. If they couldn’t do a damn thing about it, how else would I know? Seeing you figure out a way made me realize just how much I depend on you to save my ass. I should be the one saying sorry, not you Goddammit, Yuj. What would I do without you, honestly—”

She tilts her head up, her sniffling and sobbing unceasing, resting her head on your chest. “I’m sorry. What I said is still out of pocket and I wasn’t in the position to say—”

“Shush, Yuj. Stop apologizing for being right,” you reply, brushing her hair. “Look. We’ll go forward with your plan. You can write up the whole thing and I’ll present it your way. I won’t muck up in front of the directors, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna quit.”

“Really?” She lifts up her eyes, doe-looking and glimmering.

“Yeah. Might as well go down with a sinking ship, so please stop crying,” you say, smiling. “You made me feel like shit and I don’t like it.”

Yujin laughs. Heartily.

—————

Even though that should havd been enough to appease Yujin, in your eyes, it wasn’t. You had to make it up to her in other ways.

“This place serves really good food,” you tell Yujin, digesting the sights and scents of the relatively small eatery. Meanwhile, Yujin sits beside you, eating to heart’s content without a care. “I can see why you love it.”

“How’d you know this was my favorite place to drop by after work?” she asks, chomping down on the last stick of her barbecue.

“I have my sources,” you tell her, playfully grinning, unwilling to admit that you’ve been watching from behind your car’s windows for some time now.

“Don’t tell me it’s Wonyoung, boss.” Yujin pouts, flustered and embarrassed. “I swear to God, I can’t trust anything with—”

“It isn’t her, don’t worry,” you chuckle, amused at her red-faced look.

“I really appreciate the offer,” she remarks, finishing the remaining half of her drink. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Hey, it’s the least I can do for my hardworking assistant,” you reply, gesturing to the lone cook for the bill. The charges go up to the hundreds, with most orders belonging to her. While she’s chomping away at the end of a large meal, you secretly foot it on her behalf. How she maintains her figure while consuming this much food, you’ll never know. And when she calls for the tab, she’s told that it has already been paid in full.

“Now you’re just being extra,” she says, facing you, looking insulted by the kind gesture, but in a playful way. Appreciative regardless. “I already told you we’ll pay for what we each ordered.”

Looking at the stack of empty plates on her side—when compared to yours—some part of you believes that to be false. You don’t even have to say anything for her to realize she’s not one to fulfill her own word either.

“Okay—I would have paid 25 percent.”

You can’t place any blame on her. She laughs—at herself. She’s so charming, a pleasure to watch, that you would let her slide, had this not been your intention right from the start.

“Stop.”

You end up laughing with her too.

—————

“Seriously. Don’t lie, you promise you won’t just suddenly quit on us?” Yujin asks, staring at you as you walk toward your parked vehicles outside the eatery. “This feels like a way to soften the blow.”

Both of you stop right in front of your cars. “Not at all,” you tell her, staring directly into her eyes. “What else do I have to do to prove that I’m not quitting?”

“I don’t know, sir. I mean—you, suddenly asking me to eat out—” she rolls her eyes away, skeptical— “You’ve never done that.”

The cold nighttime air sweeps all over you. Chilly, you rub your arms together, partially regretting the decision to cover Yujin with your coat. She’s relatively unfazed, warm in your garment; even more surprisingly, it fits her perfectly like a glove.

“I wouldn’t leave if it means I lose you, Yujin.”

It’s not the words you wanted to say. Every part of that sentence leaves your lips effortlessly. A little too effortless.It’s an unconfessed confession, waiting for the right moment to be spoken. Sure, she may interpret it as merely you being codependent on her when it comes to work, but there’s no way there isn’t some kind of other, deeper meaning behind them.

“Lose me? What does that mean?” She asks, even more curious. Of course, Yujin isn’t the brain of your operations for nothing. It isn’t surprising when she figures you out. “You like me, don’t you?”

Just like that, the tables have turned. You can’t deny your feelings any longer.

You gently nod. Perhaps the killing blow could be softer if you find closure, right here, right now.

She leans forward, both of you unable to do anything other than to stare into each other’s deep, longing eyes. The tension between you is the only source of heat in the midst of a cold, lonely night.

By all accounts, the relationship between you and Yujin is strictly professional. Apart from a few trips abroad, you keep all conversations business related. Mind-numbing, confusing agency jargon. It’s a helpful practice in keeping your space; no matter how attractive she may look and saccharine she may sound, no amount of pleasantry can make company discussion remotely close to entertaining. You’d rather play with the blinds in your office. She’s doing her part too: clock in at nine, clock out at five on the dot. It’s a healthy routine. After hour talks between you are rare. It’s common practice to maintain a firm working relationship. It’s also just common sense. Good organization begins at the top.

Moments like these are strong reminders on why you avoid crossing that line. Yet you don’t stop—not when she’s the one making the first move.

You kiss. Your lips stay a little longer than they should. The taste lingers.

You find solace in each other's warmth, in a comforting embrace. She rests her head on your chest, her hands gripping into your shirt tightly. Deep down, you both recognize you’re on borrowed time. Whether through your promotion or your release, you won’t be together for much long. Countless hours spent together, so many occasions—the opportunities are being handed to you on a silver platter, only for you not to take the chance.

Not anymore. You won’t make the same mistake again.

—————

Driving her home was easy; finding your way into your room was half the battle.

“It took us this long to share a room, huh?” Yujin huffs against your face, finding and capturing your lips even in an erratic, volatile environment. She’s pushing you against the wall, her palms having an iron grip on your cheeks, pulling you close and wildly kissing you. The entire trip up to your apartment floor has been nothing but shaky kisses and clothes slowly scattering from the elevator to your front door.

“We should have done this a long time ago,” you manage to mutter, holding her face away for a brief respite to answer, only to be forced back in once again. Any semblance of professionalism between you is abandoned for fiery, passionate lovemaking, future relationships be damned.

The most surprising thing is how it isn’t as messy as it may look. See, despite the bite marks on your skin, the wrinkles in your clothes, and the rather loud, unceremonious manner you enter your apartment, you’re still in the process slowly unraveling. There’s a conscious effort to make sure neither side comes out completely in ruins. A silent agreement between you.

Her hands lay claim to your shirt, threatening to tear you apart if you don’t do the same to her. She lifts her head when you quickly peel through her long skirt; you dive in and make it yours. The crack in her voice as she mewls tickles your ears just right. Slowly spreading her legs wide, pulling the panties down her well defined thighs. In response, she tugs at your shirt, popping a few buttons loose. It isn’t as easy as it looks to have Yujin pinned against the wall; she’s actively fighting, trying to seize back control. If she can’t have her way with you, at the very least she can rein you in. Only now do you realize the danger your little escapede.

With her slender legs wrapped around your waist, you can only do so much. Yujin can’t stop kissing you, leading your gaze to anywhere but her pretty, lust-ridden expressions. She wants this more than you do. Against your desires, you end up in the kitchen, propping her on the bar counter as lipstick covers your entire face. The brief respite when she catches her breath gives you ample time to unbutton the rest of your shirt before tossing it aside—something you don’t give her the decency to finish.

While she’s still staggering, lost in her own thoughts, you take her by the shoulder and leave a fresh mark on her neck. A distraction. More importantly, your fingers feel their way around the back of her dress, find the touch of metal—and yank. The zipper follows, the lengthy garment gradually coming undone, until Yujin pushes the rest of it off her shoulders and to the floor. Your eyes gleam like starlight as her bra reveals itself, taking countless mental snapshots at that moment.

Not even her attempts to redirect your attention can pull you away.

You push her down on the marble surface. The bar is big enough to fit you both. Joining her atop the counter, your gaze wanders down her divine figure—and you don’t know where to start. Everything about Yujin is designed to be as perfect as humanly possible. No one should be flawless.

“How can you be any more perfect, Yuj,” you mutter, eyes roaming everywhere, soaking in the immaculate sight before you. “How did I not want you any sooner?”

Yujin’s hand traces down your arm. “You could have just asked. My previous employers did. It was a regular part of the job for me.”

You’re shaking your head. Imagine that—an employer taking advantage of their employee offering themselves without any restraint. You would never—except you already did. Your previous assistant can vouch.

“Don’t feel sorry. I want this just as much as you do,” she adds, pulling you towards her face for a soft kiss, clearing all doubt. “Besides, you’re not that much different from any of them. Why stop now?”

“Not that different? Were they just as codependent on you as I am?”

Nodding in agreement, she laughs.

“God fucking dammit.”

You sigh. Yujin continues laughing. What a momentum killer. And the worst part is, it’s self-inflicted and completely avoidable. You should have just kept going, kept her speechless.

Still, it’s not the end of the world. You’re on top of Yujin; she has no intention of leaving you anytime soon. Most importantly, she’s unhooking her bra while you’re caught up in your feelings. “But—there’s one difference: I actually love working for you. I wouldn’t mind letting you use me.”

“You love working for me? Why?”

She’s biting her lip, grabbing you by the back of your head. “You’ll find out yourself. You know what to do.”

“What? How?” The word comes out panicked, desperate.

Yujin shakes her head, the smirk on her lips twisting, wicked. “You know how.”

At first, finding what she means proves to be a struggle. After all, Yujin’s not the mysterious type. She always tells you everything straight, condenses complex conversations into digestible servings for easy consumption. It’s not in her character. Yet, one look at what’s in front of you—her naked frame casually lying beneath yours, her hands running all over your bare self—the realization hits you like lightning, and you’re mentally punching yourself for being so dangerously oblivious.

You kiss her on the lips again. You can’t get enough. You’d happily stay in this position all night long. Except that isn’t what she wants. She wants you to go further.

So you sink further and further down. The closer you get, the more she opens up. A sloppy trail follows your lips, from her chin, to her collarbones, to her chest and navel, and everything else in between. She’s soft to the touch, so flexible and malleable—every part of her, you make yours. Then you get to her core, her inner thighs spreading, and watch as it unravels before you, quivering, soaked, needy. You look into each other’s eyes, hers anticipating. There’s a craze behind your irises, as if some repressed need is crawling back to the surface. It’s slowly driving you wild.

Your name drips on the edge of Yujin’s mouth—a sign of impatience—before suddenly cracking at the point of impact. She rolls her head back, her voice reduced to an airy sigh as your tongue licks up her slit, her entrance, in a slow upward motion. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to devolve into a hungry, primal mess. Her thighs close in and clamp you down, suffocating you while you become more familiar with the sensation and taste of her dripping cunt.

If only you could hear the full extent of her moans, turning a pitch higher with each passing swipe and slurp. You’re humming into her core, satiated and fulfilled with the taste of her slick in your mouth. Yujin’s hands stretch out for help, for stability as pleasure gradually overwhelms her. Propped underneath her thighs, your hands dig under to reach places that your tongue can’t. She grows erratics, restless, moved by your presence inside her.

“Fuck!” The profanity escapes her lips instinctually, like it’s always been a part of her. She’s writhing, jaw slack, her back arched over the bar, her hands now grasping on your hair, then on the edges again. On your side, the pressure her thighs bring leave you suffocating. It’s too much. You should be begging for your life; instead, you’re enjoying every minute, slowing your pace every now and then to savor the feeling.

Despite her state, she’s caught you by the wrists. They do little in stopping your tongue from consuming every inch of her, and you end up pushing her forward. You grip her by her thighs and spread her wide. She can’t resist. Fresh air has never felt more soothing to the lungs. By the way you have her legs dangled up in the air, you’re threatening to pull a nerve. She’s screaming, crying out in desperation,

Still, it doesn’t change the outcome. Yujin finally loses herself completely and comes undone. She cums—blasts jets of slick all over your face and mouth. The counter pools with the aftermath of her orgasm, and you lick it all up, sanitation be damned.

When you finally emerge from the depths of her tight, drenched cunt, she remains a mess, stamina completely drained, body still trembling from her massive climax. You’d think after that, she would be incapacitated for the night, until—

“Wait.” Yujin deeply exhales, pulls you by the wrist. You aren’t exactly going anywhere. As if struck by lightning, she suddenly rises up. A shit-eating grin forms on her lips, as if the damage wasn’t enough to take her down. There’s a familiar look in her eyes—the gaze of a woman who needs more.

She flicks a sample of her slick from the spot on the counter and laps it up, still eying you with unceasing lust. You remember her words, the question to ponder: “You’re gonna tell me now?”

Yujin blankly stares. The question lingers for a little while. “Tell you what?” she replies, the tone convincing enough to feign innocence.

“Why you love working for me.”

She smiles again, a teasing look. “You’re halfway there.”

“What does that mean?” As you try not to overreact, your assistant turned one night stand tries to stifle her laughter. It almost goes unnoticed, until— “Yuj, you’re really getting on my nerves with all this vaguery bullshit going on.”

“It’s part of the fun, is it not? Do you want me to give it straight?”

“Yes! Like always!”

Yujin leans close. One hand reaches for your pants, the other still attached to your wrist. She appears like she’s going for yet another kiss, when she stops right next to your ear and whispers, “I want you to fuck me. Use me,” before drawing herself away.

On the surface, the stare you give her looks cold. Deep in your mind, the words resonate and ring louder and louder. Four words. “Fuck me—” “Use me—” The arousal bubbles up, manifests on your cheeks. The next few minutes can go so many ways, more than you can imagine. In your eyes, she’s still your assistant, a friendly, dependable worker whom you consider a close acquaintance more than anything.

The thing is: you’ve already gone far past the point of no return. Her gaze is enticing—demanding—you to keep going.

There’s no stopping now.

Yujin casually follows you to your bedroom, hand in tow. The rest of your clothes lie discarded in the kitchen—boxers, pants, and all. Gone are the nerves and hesitations; the attitude you have towards her is different. “Lay down,” you command her, voice steely, and she obliges, the bed flopping with the slight crash of her lithe figure. You won’t ever grow tired of staring at her naked body, regardless of it’s position.

She lays flat on her tummy, observing you rummage through your large closet of suits, pulling a red tie from one of the drawers. “Not the first time I’ve had something wrapped around my neck,” she remarks, raising a curious eyebrow, crooked smile unyielding. “Stylish, just like you.”

“I wasn’t asking for your input.” You’re never this stern towards Yujin. You toss the necktie on the mattress before joining her atop the bed. “Turn around.”

Like the good girl she is, she obliges. That’s Yujin for you; she’ll always follow everything you tell her, no questions asked. On her fours, her plump ass glides face up, in complete view. Another temptation, another part of her to claim as yours. Regardless, you’re in no hurry; you’ve got the rest of the night.

With your erect cock in hand, you line the tip against her sopping cunt. She winces, moans at the contact. “Oh, fuck—” she whines, lifting her head up, her nails pressed into the sheets. As inviting as the call of her tight, wet pussy is to you, you make an organized effort to resist the immediate lull to fuck her hard.

Even holding her figure with your other hand proves to be a nightmare. Her body enraptures you in hypnotic ways. The arch of her back, the curve of her ass, the hourglass frame—it’s a feast for the eyes. You could take your sweet time and worship every little part of Yujin and she wouldn’t mind, but in the midst of your blinding daze, she’s calling to you. Again.

“Are you just gonna admire me or are you gonna shove that big cock in me?” She faces you with a mischievous grin. “I don’t mind both.”

Suddenly, you remember your position in this relationship. You grab her by the throat, face her away again. “Quiet. I don’t want to hear any more from you unless you’re taking this fucking cock.”

Showing a little resistance, she tries daring you, “Then f—fuck!”

Her jaw goes wide, frozen in place, her voice abruptly cutting as you undercut her with your cock. You’re no better; pleasure sets your muscles ablaze as you thrust into her inviting cunt. It shows in the deep groan spilling from your mouth. Little by little, you plunge ever so deep until you feel yourself buried to the hilt. That’s when you finally let out this breath of relief—but not for long.

Her pussy clenches hard. Her heat proves to be suffocating beyond measure. If you don’t act quickly, she could end you in seconds.

“O-oh God—”

You slowly, painstakingly pull back before throttling your hips into her. Taking these short breaths, every little move you make is precarious. It’s not that she’s resisting you—far from it—but it’s you resisting the urge to cum so soon. Your mind tries to think of anything other than what’s right in front, but even that proves to be nearly impossible. The ripple of her ass, the slight wobble of her breasts, the twisting grip of your hand on her otherwise soft skin—

“So fucking tight. Holy fuck, Yuj—” You manage to mutter before you’re reduced to groans again.

All you can focus on is keeping yourself together while you’re slowly crumbing away. You find a rhythm in the midst of the madness, pounding away at your assistant’s cunt, your senses overrun by pleasure and the satisfying sound of your skin slapping skin. Elsewhere, your hands can’t seem to find solace in just one area. They’re everywhere; from her hair, to her throat, to the arch of her ass, to her hips, the imprints stay new, eventually creating a patterned sequence that immediately breaks.

You’re fucking these strained cries and prasies out of Yujin’s sweet lips, and it’s quite the mouthful. ’More,’ ‘harder,’ ‘so good—’ until it reaches the point where her voice is so worn from your chokehold that she can only speak in high pitched mewls. Another cycle you wish would never end.

Slowing your pace, you reach for the necktie, gently tying it around her neck while preventing your rhythm from disrupting. “You’re such a fucking perfect woman, you know that?” you mutter in her ear, kissing the helix and indulging in the scent of her perfume mixed with sex and sweat. “Perfect listener, perfect assistant, perfect body—”

Pulling yourself away from her, you yank the tie along—your makeshift leash. Her body tilts all the way up, a sharp screech suddenly filling the bedroom. You’re not sure if its from the pull or just her moan. Either way, you have her in your grasp. Brushing her hair aside, you mumble, “Actually, I don’t know how to use a tie like that. I just wanted to remember what it’s like to be the boss. Your boss.”

It should have sounded flat, like all your other attempts at being convincing. And yet, she leans her ear backward, trying to recapture your lips. Teasing a little, your lips make what’s considered the most minimal of contacts, before you push her to her fours. You don’t intend to pull on the tie again, but you’re still holding on to it like your most prized possession—and it may as well be Yujin.

“Of course,” are her first words uttered in a while that aren’t some combination of profanity and praise.

Grabbing her by the midsection, the rhythm of your thrusts quickens. You feel it. The imminent collapse. And it’s not just the bed quaking and creaking from your sex. She’s pleading now; ’So close,’ she tells you, begs you to let her cum all over your cock. In any other scenario, you’d acquiesce. Here, with all the authority, you’re going to assert your power a little.

“Say it. Say it and I’ll let you cum all over me,” you demand, your hand climbing up to her chest, grabbing at her breast, folding her up slightly that her grip on the sheets transfers to the headboard. “I wanted you so fucking bad for so long.”

“Anything for you. Just let me cum!” she cries out, on the verge of falling apart. Dangerously close.

“Tell me I’m yours.”

“I’m yours!”

“You know what I meant. Say it again.”

“I’m yours! I’m yours!”

Hearing her declare that she belongs to you with such conviction almost upends you too. You almost give in, but narrowaly escape thanks to your utter resolve. The smirk on your face is priceless.

“Perfect. Now cum.”

Just like that, her body reacts at the drop of your command, as if it was hardwired into her. Yujin goes numb—fidgeting, cumming all over your cock—as you continue to pound into her cunt. A single word echoes, going quieter with every incantation: ‘Fuck,’ she whines, caught reeling in her orgasm and catching every breath possible.

Eventually, it comes to a standstill, the only thing left is for you to crash. Lucky for her, you’re not that far off. You’ve let go of the tie, holding onto her shoulders instead. So now it’s her opportunity to turn the tables on you again.

“Fucking give it to me—oh I need it now, oh God—” Yujin begs, barely keeping herself upright in the aftermath of her climax.

And you just crash down on her, slamming her deep into the sheets, turning her around as you fuck callously, clamping her neck, her moans ringing into your ear. She has a leg wrapped arond yours—as if you had any intention of pulling out. You’ve spent enough time away from her pretty face; now you want to watch her take all your load deep in her pussy.

Yujin’s mouth melds in the shape of a moan as the pressure finally overwhelms you. Burying yourself deep in her, you’re still pumping, fucking your cock as you blast thick load after thick load in her warm, creamy cunt. The sensation leaves you breathless, hanging onto her for dear life as you wait for the moment to pass. Though it may seem like a couple of minutes, the feeling lingers far longer than you can imagine. She milks you of all your worth, drawing every last drop from your throbbing cock until your body can’t move any longer.

Eventually, your bodies wind up together, limbs tangled, wrapped around each other in a warm embrace. The comfort you both needed after a long day.

—————

You gaze down at a tired Yujin. Hours ago, you were the one holding onto her; now she’s the clingy one, wrapping an arm over you. “I really need to know, Yuj.”

She mumbles into your chest. “What is it?” You feel her soft lips leave lipstick marks on your skin.

You’re brushing away loose, dark strands of her hair to get a better look of her pristine, shiny face. “Why do you love working for me?”

After the passionate night you just had, you still have the gall to ask such a frivolous question. The answer should be obvious by now.

She looks up, smiling—a pleasant, friendly gleam, one you immediately recognize as soon as you walk through those office doors. “Because you’re the first boss I’ve ever worked for that isn’t a total asshole. Also, you’re good at everything.”

You raise an eyebrow and frown. “That’s not—”

“You know what I meant, boss.” The smiling turns into teasing. You realize, then you laugh.

You should be basking in the afterglow of sex, but daylight peeking through your curtain says otherwise. You’re so tired, you can’t move a muscle, let alone grab the phone from the living room to tell the time. All you know is that you should be at work by now, and so should Yujin.

The ring from your phone can be heard loud and clear, even a room and clothing pocket away. As you try to lift your head, Yujin meets you halfway, kissing you before laying you back down.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll write up your leave of absence. Besides, I could use some time off too,” she says, inching her face close to yours.

The notion frightens you. Yujin, your most reliable assistant, never missing a day that isn’t considered a holiday, not by your side when you need her.

And you need her now more than ever.

“Time off? When?”

“From now. Until you say we’re done.”

—————

(A/N: :bsadcorner:)

(Missing IVE's first proper world tour will always be one of my K-pop low points, even if I already watched and even shared an interaction with them. Goddammit, I can already expect the prices and perks for their next tour will be even more expensive than it already is. Sigh. Anyway, I hope they get their well deserved time off. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #ive #yujin #an yujin

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areislol · 1 year ago

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A time to tell

► PAIRINGS. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

► GENRE. sagau, reverse isekai, domestic life/slice of lofe, explicit/sexual (18+ for the nsfw chapters) themes.

SYNOPSIS. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to you.

WARNINGS. eventual smut, harem, angst with comfort.

STATUS. on going//i will try to update as fast and best as i can but i do procrastinate a lot so.. i do have school and work to do so updates may be a bit slow.. i will try my best though!! i do not have a specific update time, i just update whenever I finish a chapter so please bear with me, i wish i had an allocated timetable or something but i just can't fit that into my schedule (posting on a specific time).

EXTRA. i started this series because i needdd to feed my love for reverse isekai fics and i saw that there werent a lot so i was like !!! why not create my own? also, the chapters that had NSFW content in them will have the 🔞 logo beside the chapter name.

- reader is in college (has a part time job)

TAGLIST. open

> RECOMMENDED SONGS WILL BE INCLUDED IN THE CHAPTERS <

“y/n, we will be here for you for however you want us to be, we will leave even if you asked us to just please, please don’t leave us.”

chapter index

i. chapter one - the start of it all

◇─where you find yourself in a room with 24 handsome men, the thing is.. you know them from the popular game that you even played and spent hundreds of money on.. genshin impact!

ii. chapter two - the morning after

◇─the morning after everything had happened, you decided to do a little bonding session.. which was by watching your favourite movies with them of course!

iii. chapter three - a shopping spree

◇─you decide to go shopping to buy some things for you and the men, you bond by watching movies with them and playing UNO.

iv. chapter four - "you really took took care of us, huh?"

◇─a couple days goes by after meeting the men, all is going good, your daily routine has changed, and the fact that you start work tomorrow too doesn't help anything at all.

v. chapter five - Back to work

◇─you have to return back to work after having your days off, little did you know you would find out something that would absolutely make you feel at unease and that would make you paranoid forever.

MINI FIC - Merry christmas! (wait why are we supposed to say that again?)

◇─celebrate christmas with them!!

vi. chapter six - The stalker

◇─not in a million years did you expect to ever get yourself a stalker, how did you? no idea. but with the sudden help of a woman she manages to find a way to catch the stalker. will you and your friends or well, the men, see her ever again, and will they meet for the good or bad?

vi. chapter seven - A walk in the park

◇─deciding that it has been quite some time since the men went out, you take them out to a park and have a picnic, bonding time if you will.

viii. chapter eight - Credit where it's not due

◇─you finally have some time to understand elisa, and to be honest, you aren't sure if you and her get along.

2K notes · View notes

nhaaauyen · 4 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART IV: TONIGHT, I WALK AWAY

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part II // part III // part V

wc: 7.8k cw: violence, angst, major character death author's note: Honestly I'm starting to get why TWD writers do what they do after writing this chapter... I also apologize for taking so long for this chapter, my classes are starting now so updates will be a bit a slower </3 **also some eastereggs but the sonnet 73 quote I have is mentioned in the scene where Grayson talks about love. It's pretty much the translated modern English definition of the quote! The make a wish dialogue is also from the movie Dangerously Yours (1937), that scene always gets me so I had to include it haha

You drift in and out of consciousness, the world around you a hazy blur of pain and disjointed voices. Through the fog, you catch glimpses of three figures engaged in intense discussion.

Sevika's there, her face etched with worry. Beside her stands a tall, bald gaunt man and a mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes are sunken, giving him an almost skeletal appearance. The third figure is shorter, with slicked-back dark hair and a prominent scar running down one side of his face, his right eye a striking shade of green.

Their voices filter through your muddled thoughts:

"...low on medical supplies for a procedure like this," the masked man says, his voice muffled and clinical. "There's no sure chance she can make it."

"I'll go to the hospital."

"It’s too dangerous." The scarred man's voice is sharp and skeptical.

"We've been low on supplies for too long," Sevika argues. "It's time we do it now. We cannot lose any more people."

Their words fade as you slip back into darkness, only to resurface again as you're being moved. You have no idea how much time has passed, but you're on some kind of gurney, the ceiling passing by overhead. You try to move, but your limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. Glancing down, you see your wrists are handcuffed to the sides of the bed.

Panic surges through you as you realize you're being rolled into what looks like a makeshift operating room. The masked man and the scarred one are there, now wearing blood-stained surgical gowns. You try to fight, to call out, but your body won't cooperate.

The scarred man leans over you, his mismatched eyes boring into yours. "It will be over soon," he says, his voice oddly soothing despite the circumstances. Then he's lowering a gas mask over your face, and the world fades to black.

When you wake again, your mind is clearer, though your body feels like it's been run over by a truck. The scarred man is sitting in a chair beside your bed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"Ah, you're awake," he says, leaning forward. "Good. I was beginning to wonder if we'd miscalculated."

You try to speak, but your throat is dry, raw. He holds up a hand, silencing you.

"No need to strain yourself. I just wanted to... observe you.” He pauses. "It's been a long time since I've had to perform a procedure like that. It’s quite a reminder of what still lurks beyond these walls. How we’ve grown complacent."

Your eyes drift to his face, lingering on the scar that runs down the right side, bisecting his eye. The eye itself is a startling shade of green, almost luminescent against his pale skin. You must have been staring, because the man chuckles, a dry, humorless sound.

"Curious, aren’t you?" A sardonic smile twists his features. "It’s only natural - people always wonder. But few ever ask. It’s a souvenir from when Zaun was still crawling out of the muck. When men I called brothers tried to drag me back down for a piece of land."

His finger traces the scar slowly, almost lovingly. "This... this was their parting gift." He trails off, then continues in a near-whisper. "Have you ever felt pain so exquisite it becomes transcendent? For days, I danced on the knife's edge between genius and madness."

His gaze refocuses on you, sharp and penetrating. "But pain, you see, can be transformative. It stripped away my naivety, my weakness. It forged me into something stronger, something capable of truly leading Zaun."

“I think I understand why Sevika is so fond of you." His lips curl into something that might be a smile but doesn't reach his eyes. "There's something in you, just like her. That part that's willing to sacrifice."

You furrow your brow, confusion, and wariness warring inside you.

"Some sacrifices are necessary to be made. But they're also weaknesses," He stands, smoothing down his shirt. "Something to consider."

With those cryptic words, he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. You're left alone, your mind racing with questions. Who were those men? What exactly happened to you? And how much time had gone by?

The weight of uncertainty presses down on you, and exhaustion soon follows. Despite your churning thoughts, your eyelids grow heavy, and you drift into an uneasy sleep.

When you wake again, its by the sound of shuffling feet and the creak of a door opening. The haze of sleep still clings to your mind as you slowly become aware of your surroundings.

Sevika enters, holding a plate of food. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

"Hey," she says finally, her voice softer than you've ever heard it.

"Hey yourself," you reply, unable to keep a slight tremor from your voice.

Sevika sets the plate on your bedside table, then stands awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with her hands. "Thought you might be hungry," she mumbles.

You nod, a thousand questions bubbling up inside you. Where has she been? Why didn't she visit sooner? What happened after the surgery? But looking at her now, seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the way she holds herself - tense, guarded - you decide those questions can wait.

Instead, you pat the bed beside you. "Sit with me?"

Sevika hesitates for a moment, then complies. As she settles beside you, you feel the warmth of her presence, so familiar yet somehow changed.

"I missed you," you say simply.

Sevika's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before she schools it back to neutrality. "I... I'm glad you're okay," she replies, her voice gruff but sincere.

As you and Sevika sit together, you try to maintain a casual conversation, but there's an undercurrent of tension you can't ignore. Sevika's responses are clipped, her gaze never quite meeting yours. It's like she's looking through you, not at you.

"Hey," you say softly, reaching out to touch her arm. "What's going on?"

She turns slowly, her eyes finally meeting yours. But there’s something different in them, something that makes your heart clench. It’s infuriating, this distance she’s putting between you, this wall she’s building brick by brick.

“Sevika,” you say, trying to break through that wall. “Talk to me.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Nothing can happen between us again,” she says, the words falling heavy between you like a death sentence.

You stare at her, disbelief mingling with hurt. “What?”

Her gaze flickers, something like pain flashing in her eyes before she steels herself again. “We can’t do this,” she says, her voice low and strained. “We can’t keep pretending this… whatever this is… can last.”

You feel the ground shift beneath you like the world is falling away, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice. “You’re really going to say that after everything?” Your voice cracks, the hurt seeping through despite your best efforts to keep it at bay. “How do you kiss someone, make them believe there’s something real, and then just—throw it away?”

Sevika’s jaw clenches, and she looks away, as if unable to bear the sight of your pain. “You can be mad at me, hate me if you want,” she says. “But it has to be this way.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, your heart breaking with every word. “I’m hurt, Sevika. I’m hurt because I care about you, and you’re pushing me away like none of it matters.”

“I know,” she whispers, her voice so soft it’s almost lost in the hum of the machines.

“Then why?” you demand, your voice wavering as you struggle to understand. “Why are you doing this?”

She finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the anguish in her eyes is like a punch to the gut. “Because if I let myself love you,” she says, her voice breaking on the word, “I know we’d never have enough time. ”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the despair that’s been brewing in your chest. “But isn't some time better than none at all? I'd rather have a handful of precious moments with you than spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if.'” The tears you’ve been holding back now streaming down your face.

“Even if it hurts, even if it's brief – at least it would be real.”

Sevika shakes her head, her expression a storm of anger and fear. Her words come out in a rush, like she can't hold them back any longer.

"You don't understand. I was okay before you. I was okay with the idea of dying, of existing day after day without purpose until my time ran out. But now?" Her voice hardens. "Now I'm terrified. I'm not okay with losing you. I'm not okay with the thought that you could walk out that door and never come back."

“I didn't need this. I didn't need you to come along and give me a reason to call this godforsaken place home. I didn't need you to make me want to survive instead of just exist.” She’s practically pleading now. “Don't you see what you've done to me? Needing you means I have something to lose."

The weight of her confession crushes you, the finality of it sinking in. She’s not just pushing you away—she’s tearing herself apart to do it, ripping out the very thing that might make her feel alive, all because she’s so afraid of the pain it could bring.

“I’d shatter every bone in my body again if it meant keeping you safe,” you say, your voice trembling. “I’d do anything for you, Sevika, and it hurts so bad that you won’t let me.”

She turns her head away. “You’re too stubborn,” she whispers, her voice resigned. “You won’t stop, and neither will I, and it’ll kill us both in the end.”

“You look at me like I’m already dead,” you say, your voice cracking with the weight of your grief. “Like I’m a ghost you’ve been carrying around, waiting for the right moment to bury me.”

She flinches, the words cutting deep. “Because that’s what it feels like,” she confesses. “I feel like I’ve already lost you, and it’s killing me. I’d rather lose you now when we still have a chance to walk away than lose you out there, where I can’t protect you.”

The following silence is deafening, the air thick with everything neither of you can bring yourselves to say. You reach out, your hand trembling as you gently caress her cheek, trying to offer comfort in the only way you know how. She leans into your touch for a moment, her eyes closing as if she’s trying to savor it, to hold onto it before it’s gone.

“Are you doing this to protect me, or are you protecting yourself?” you ask softly, the question hanging in the air like a lifeline, offering her one last chance to admit the truth.

She opens her eyes, and the pain you see there nearly undoes you. “Both,” she admits. “I’m protecting both of us. I’ll never survive the day I lose you. And I can’t—” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard, her eyes pleading with you to understand. “I can’t live.”

Your heart shatters as the reality of her words sinks in. She’s already decided, already convinced herself that this is the only way to keep you both safe, even if it means tearing herself apart in the process.

“Can I be alone?” you ask, your voice small and broken, the words barely escaping your lips.

Sevika nods, her expression tightening as she takes a step back. “Yeah,” she says. “I’ll go.”

She turns to leave, but before she can take another step, you reach out. “Sevika, wait,” you say, your voice filled with desperation. “Can you hand me my bag?”

She hesitates, her gaze flickering to the bag and then back to you. After a moment, she nods and hands it to you, her fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments, sending a jolt of longing through you. You rummage through the bag, your heart pounding as you pull out the familiar fabric of her shawl.

You hold it out to her. “This belongs to you.”

Sevika stares at the shawl, her eyes widening as she realizes what it means. For a moment, she just stands there, looking at it like it’s a lifeline she’s too afraid to grasp. Then, she takes it from you.

She looks at you, and in her eyes, you see all the things she wants to say, all the things she’s too scared to admit. And then, without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her, leaving you alone with nothing but the ghost of her touch and the scent of her shawl lingering in the air.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

You didn’t accept any visitors for days, under the guise that you were too tired and needed the rest to recover. But as tempting as curling in bed and crying over a woman that you never even had a proper relationship with was, you knew you couldn’t hide away forever.

Blinking, you see a group of people piling into your room.

Vander's deep voice rumbles, "Easy now, let's not overwhelm her."

Caitlyn is standing over you. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Before you can answer, Powder chimes in, "Bet you feel like you've been hit by a truck. Am I right?"

"Something like that," you croak.

Your attention is drawn to the doorway where Grayson stands, little Ren in her arms. The child is clutching Grayson's yellow armband tightly.

Grayson sets Ren down gently. "Go on, little one," she says softly.

Ren doesn't need to be told twice. She rushes to your bedside, her small hands gripping the edge of the mattress. "Miss, are you okay?" she asks, her voice shakes slightly. "Will you be like Sevika?"

The innocence in her question tugs at your heart. You reach out, ignoring the twinge of pain from the movement and the mention of Sevika, to pat her hand. "No, darling," you reply softly. "Sevika is unique. I'll be just fine."

Grayson moves closer, her stern expression softening slightly. "That was brave," she says. "But also very idiotic of you."

You frown at the comment, the words too similar to Sevika’s at the prison.

Vander's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "You gave us quite a scare," he says. "But you're tough. You'll pull through."

Caitlyn nods in agreement. "We've managed to replenish some of our medical supplies thanks to the hospital mission." she informs you.

Vi adds with a smirk, "And don't even think about trying to get up and be a hero again anytime soon."

“Yeah… I wouldn’t dream of it,” you respond hoarsely.

Over the next week, your family comes and goes, their visits being the highlight of your monotonous days. Grayson usually stopped by with Ren, the two were closer than you expected but Marcus had flitted in and out of Ren’s life so often that Grayson stepped up as a parental figure. You offered to take care of the kid while you were still bed-bound, and Grayson only reluctantly agreed when you assured her it wouldn’t obstruct your healing process.

You find yourself sitting up in bed, Ren cross-legged beside you. Math worksheets are spread out between you.

"If an apple cost three dollars and you needed to buy five apples, how much would that cost?"

Ren's brow furrows in concentration. "Um... fifteen dollars?"

You beam at her. "That's right! You're getting good at this."

A knock at the door interrupts your math lesson and Vi pokes her head in, her red hair slightly disheveled.

"Hey, time to get moving," she says with a grin.

You turn to Ren, giving her a warm smile. "Let's do this again tomorrow, sweetie?"

Ren nods enthusiastically, gathering her papers. "Alright! Bye-bye, miss! I hope you feel better!"

As Ren scampers out, Vi approaches, offering her arm for support. You wince as you stand, your body still protesting the movement.

“Easy,” she murmurs, her tone softening as she watches your struggle. “Take it slow.”

You grit your teeth, focusing on her voice, on the feel of her arm supporting you. Slowly, you manage a few steps, each one a little less painful than the last.

“How’s it feel?” Vi asks, keeping pace with you, her gaze never leaving your face.

“Like hell,” you admit with a shaky laugh, though there’s a small sense of victory in the simple act of standing on your own two feet again. “But better than yesterday.”

Vi nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Progress,” she says. “You’re getting stronger.”

As you slowly make your way down the hallway, Vi starts chatting about her day. "You wouldn't believe the shit from yesterday. We were chasing some survivors that tried to steal our shit through an alley, and then Sevika shows up out of nowhere and--"

The moment the words are out, Vi winces, realizing her mistake too late. You feel a sharp pang in your chest at the mention of Sevika's name.

"Uh, anyway, we got the guy in the end.” she says.

“She… was?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Vi looks away, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s good,” you say, though the words feel like a lie even as they leave your lips. “It’s good that she caught them.”

Vi nods. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. It’s just… I miss her. It’s stupid, we weren’t anything.”

“I know,” she says. “But it’s not stupid.”

There’s a long silence, the kind that’s filled with all the words neither of you know how to say. “If you didn’t have Caitlyn, would you be okay with all of this? Would you be able to live with everything we do?”

She’s quiet for a moment as she considers your words. “Do I have a choice?” she finally says, her voice tinged with a sadness you’ve rarely heard from her. “I have Powder. I have you, Vander… my family. I’d feel incomplete, sure, but I don’t have a choice. I have to keep going.”

“We’ll keep going, together.” She adds.

“Thanks, Vi.” Despite your gratefulness, her words feel like they’re coming from a distance, muffled by the grief you’re still trying to process.

Your family helps you through it all, they talk to you about everything and nothing, filling the silence with stories. The days pass, and slowly, you begin to reclaim small pieces of yourself. You walk more, the physical therapy sessions become less of a struggle and more of a routine.

And each night, when the room is quiet and you’re alone with your thoughts, you think of Sevika. It’s not easy. Some days, the weight of it all feels unbearable, like you’re drowning in a sea of what-ifs and lost chances. But you keep going, step by step, knowing that it’s all you can do.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting session, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling as your thoughts drift. You think about Sevika, about the last time you saw her, the pain in her eyes as she walked away. And you wonder if she feels the same weight, if she’s struggling just as much to move on.

You close your eyes, and for a moment, you imagine her here, standing by your side. And as you drift off to sleep, you could swear you hear her voice, soft and broken, whispering in the dark.

“I failed you.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The pantry is filled with the scent of canned goods and the faint rustle of paper bags. You’re focused on stacking cans of beans when your grip falters, and one slips from your fingers.

Before it can hit the ground, a hand darts out and catches it. You look up to see a man with a cocky grin. He’s tall and lean, with slicked-back hair and piercing teal eyes. You don’t know why, but he looked oddly familiar.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing down here? Are we that understaffed that we’re making the injured work now?”

You snatch the can back from him. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you reply curtly, setting the can back on the shelf, “but I wanted to do this.”

He chuckles, leaning against the shelf with a casual arrogance. “Looks like supplies are running a bit thin,” he comments slyly, his eyes flicking to the half-empty shelves. “Maybe you should take it easy before you use up what little energy we have left.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your patience wearing thin. “I’m not interested in your opinion.”

Before he can retort, the door to the pantry swings open with a loud creak, and Sevika steps inside. The air changes instantly when her gaze zeroes in on the man.

“Finn,” she growls. “What are you doing here?”

Finn straightens up and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just making sure our friend here isn’t overworking herself,” he says innocently.

“Get lost,” Sevika snaps. “Now.”

With a lazy shrug, Finn backs off, giving you a final, lingering look before sauntering out of the pantry. The door closes behind him, leaving you alone with Sevika.

Sevika turns to you. “I was told you’re working here again,” she says, her voice sharp with disapproval. “Are you stupid? You’re barely healed.”

You bristle at her tone. "I needed to do something."

"Yeah, like babysitting Ren," she snaps. “Not this.”

"Why does it matter what I do?" you challenge, your voice rising.

For a moment, Sevika doesn’t answer, but then her eyes widen.

“You’re bleeding.”

You blink, confused. “What?”

You look down and see a trickle of blood seeping through the bandages on your side. The pain hits you a second later, sharp and burning, but you grit your teeth, refusing to show weakness in front of her.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “I can bandage it myself.”

But Sevika is already moving toward you, her expression darkening with worry. “You’re not going back to your place like this,” she mutters. “Come on. My place is closer.”

Before you can protest, she’s already scooping you up into her arms. The world blurs around you as she carries you through the streets and you’re too shocked to resist.

When you reach her place, she sets you down on the edge of her bed, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before she pulls away.

“Just sit,” she instructs as she moves to grab a first aid kit from a nearby drawer.

“I can do it.”

Sevika shakes her head, her expression set in a way that leaves no room for argument. “I have experience with this,” she says quietly. “Let me.”

You watch in silence as she works. Her hands, usually so strong and rough, are gentle as they press a fresh bandage against your skin. There’s a tenderness in the way she handles you, in the way she refuses to meet your gaze as she focuses on the wound, that makes your chest ache.

Finally, Sevika finishes. She stands, the distance between you growing once more as she busies herself with putting away the first aid kit, her movements stiff and mechanical.

“Thanks.” You want to leave, not to be any more inconvenient than you already were but Sevika replies before you can say anything.

“You should rest,” she says, her voice flat, devoid of the warmth that was there just moments ago. “Don’t push yourself like that again.”

You reluctantly agree to stay and the tension in Sevika's shoulders eases slightly. She mumbles something about bringing dinner later and leaves you to rest.

Left alone, you take in your surroundings. The room is sparse, almost impersonal. Unlike the chaos in the other rooms, this space feels hollow. There are no personal belongings, no knick-knacks, nothing to suggest that she even uses this bed. It's as if the room itself is holding its breath, existing in a state of perpetual temporariness.

Exhaustion soon overtakes you, and you drift off to sleep. But you soon wake again at the sound of muffled voices. Through the haze of half-consciousness, you hear one of Sevika's people inviting her to a party, but she declines.

"Nah, I'm staying in today," you hear her say.

The voices fade, and you slowly wake up, disoriented. You stumble to the doorway of the living room, blinking sleep from your eyes. Sevika is there, dressed in casual clothes – a grey tank top and worn jeans with her hair down, falling in messy waves around her face. She's cleaning up, a pile of bottles in her arms when she notices you.

"You're awake," she says, startled. "Shit, did I wake you up?"

You shake your head, your voice still rough with sleep. "No, you're good... Do you need help with that?"

"No. Fuck, sit down. What are you doing walking around?"

Still groggy, you comply without argument, sinking into the couch. Sevika dumps the bottles in a bag and turns back to you.

"I'm making dinner," she says, washing her hands at the sink. "You're okay with instant noodles and spam?"

The domesticity of the moment catches you off guard. "Sounds delicious," you manage to say.

Sevika nods and turns to the small kitchenette. You watch her move around the space. It's surreal, seeing her like this – relaxed, casual, making dinner for you both. For a moment, you can almost pretend things are different between you.

Sevika settles on the far arm of the couch next to you, the small distance between you both feeling more like a chasm.

"Chopsticks or fork?" she asks, holding out both options.

"Chopsticks," you reply, and a ghost of a smile flickers across her face.

"Good choice," she murmurs, handing them to you.

You eat in comfortable silence, stealing glances at her when you think she's not looking. When you finish, Sevika collects the empty bowls.

"Want dessert?"

"Sure," you nod, watching as she retrieves an apple from the kitchen.

She settles back on the arm of the couch, peeling the apple with a small knife. "How's the physical therapy going?" Sevika asks, breaking the silence.

You shrug. "It's... going. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless."

She nods, placing slices onto a plate. "That's good. Don't push yourself too hard."

"Says the woman who never knows when to quit," you tease gently.

A wry smile tugs at her lips. "Do as I say, not as I do."

As you reach for the last slice, Sevika’s hand brushes your cheek. You freeze, the touch unexpected, and you look up at her, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“There’s an eyelash,” she says softly, her voice gentle as she carefully removes it from your face. She holds it up for you to see, the tiny, delicate lash resting on her fingertip. “Make a wish.”

You stare at the eyelash, your mind racing with all the things you could wish for, should wish for. But the words stick in your throat, and you find yourself frozen, unable to think of anything that could possibly fix what’s been broken.

“Did you wish?”

You shake your head slightly, the corners of your mouth turning up in a sad smile. “I... I didn't get the chance.”

She raises an eyebrow, her gaze piercing as she studies you. “And there’s something you wish for?”

“Yes,” You hesitate, the words coming slowly, painfully, like pulling them from some deep, hidden place inside you. “I was wishing… that we were two other people. Two people who didn’t have to say goodbye.”

The silence that follows is thick, charged with the tension of emotions neither of you can afford to express. Sevika’s expression tightens, her jaw clenching as she absorbs your words.

“You know, if you say it out loud, it doesn’t come true,” she says, her voice rough, like she’s fighting against the vulnerability of the moment.

“Do you believe that?”

She looks down at the eyelash, still resting on her finger, before blowing it away into the air. Her gaze follows it for a moment before she looks back at you. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmovable, like a finality neither of you can escape.

“We should sleep,” Sevika says finally. “It’s late.”

You nod, knowing she’s right. There’s nothing more to be said, nothing that can change the way things are.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

Sevika looks at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nods, just once, and steps back, letting you go. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you echo, your heart heavy as you turn and walk away.

As you reach the end of the hallway, you glance back, just once. Sevika is still standing in the doorway, watching you, her figure framed by the dim light. There’s something in her posture, something in the way she’s holding herself that makes you think she might be wishing too—wishing for something that neither of you can have.

But then she steps back, closing the door behind her, and you’re left standing in the cold, empty hallway, the echoes of what could have been ringing in your ears.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the makeshift shooting range. You and Grayson stand side by side, both of you facing a row of targets at the far end of the field. You’ve been practicing your aim for a while now, but your focus has been off, your shots missing the mark more often than not.

“You haven’t said anything about my shit shot,” you mutter, glancing sideways at Grayson, expecting some form of criticism.

She shrugs, her eyes on the distant targets. "You're injured. Why would I?"

You snort. "Liar. Weeks ago, you'd have torn me apart. What's different now?"

Grayson doesn't answer, instead gesturing to a nearby bench overlooking the community below. You follow her, settling onto the worn wood with a sigh.The elevated view makes the world seem vast and small all at once.

Grayson passes you a canteen, and you take a long drink before speaking again. "You snitched to Sevika about me working."

Grayson raises an eyebrow. "Snitching? Are we ten?"

"She didn't need to know," you mutter, avoiding her gaze.

"You were going hurt yourself," Grayson says softly. "And you needed to see her. For closure, at least."

You fall silent, not wanting to delve into the complicated mess of emotions surrounding Sevika. Instead, you change the subject. "How's Ren?"

“Ren’s sleeping in today. She’s been up late these past few nights, working on that puzzle I gave her.” Grayson’s face immediately brightens at the mention of Ren.

“She’s got that stubborn streak. Wonder where she gets it.”

“Must be the company she keeps,” Grayson replies, her voice laced with affection. “Marcus is at the walls today, keeping an eye on things. It’s been quiet, for the most part.”

You nod, your gaze drifting back to the field. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” you muse. “Every day is the same. We do the same things, see the same faces… What makes it worth living?”

Grayson leans back on the bench, her eyes scanning the horizon as she considers her answer. “You make your own reasons,” she says finally, her tone thoughtful. “For me, it’s taking care of Ren. Making sure she has something to hold onto, something good in this world.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Grayson is choosing her words carefully. “I never thought of myself as the maternal type,” she continues, sounding almost wistful. “But with Ren… It’s different. She’s taught me more about love than I ever knew. In whatever time I got left here, I want to continue it with her, to see her grow up and prove there’s still something more for us here.”

You feel a pang in your chest, suddenly remembering Sevika and her belief that there would never be enough time for the two of you. But where Grayson found strength in loving deeply despite that, Sevika chose to close herself off, to protect herself from the inevitable pain.

Grayson looks at you, her eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “Sometimes, the hardest thing is to keep loving, even when you know it won’t last. But that’s what makes it worth it. Knowing that you made the most of the time you had, that you loved fully, even if it hurts in the end.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the truth of them resonating with a painful clarity.

“It’s hard,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “When you know it’s not going to last.”

Grayson nods, her expression gentle. “It is. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. You have to find your own reason to keep going, to keep loving, even when it seems like everything is falling apart.”

The conversation settles into a quiet lull, the words lingering between you as the sun dips lower in the sky. You take another sip from the flask, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the ache in your chest.

“You’re always looking out for us, making sure we’re okay.” you say after a moment, your voice tinged with admiration.

“I’m satisfied – knowing that I’ve done what I can to make this place a little better, to take care of the people who matter.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, the words carrying more weight than you intended. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replies gently. “We’re all in this together. And besides,” she adds with a small, teasing smile, “someone has to keep you in line.”

You chuckle, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere just a bit.

But the peaceful moment on the hill was brief, the tranquility shattered by the sound of rapid footsteps and panicked crying. You and Grayson turn to see Ren running towards you, her face streaked with tears and her small body shaking with sobs.

Grayson immediately drops to her knees, catching Ren in her arms. "What happened, sweetheart?" she asks, her voice calm but laced with urgency.

Ren tries to speak through her tears, her words coming out in broken gasps. "Daddy said... we were going on a trip... but the monsters... they blocked us and he couldn’t close the gate... now they're coming to get us!"

As if on cue, screams erupt from the direction of the community. You and Grayson exchange a quick glance, both reaching for your weapons without hesitation.

Ren clings to Grayson's yellow armband, her eyes wide with terror. "I want to go with you!" she cries.

Grayson cups Ren's face gently, her voice soft but firm. "Darling, listen to me. I will come back, I promise. But right now, you need to get to safety. Can you be brave for me?"

Ren nods, her lower lip trembling. You know without words what needs to be done - get everyone to safety.

You both sprint down the hill, Grayson carrying Ren. As you near the community, the chaos becomes more apparent. Gunshots ring out, mixing with screams of panic and pain. People are running in all directions, fear etched on their faces.

Vi appears beside you, her red hair wild and her eyes blazing. "We're seriously underarmed right now!" she shouts over the noise. "Sevika's crew is out!"

"We have to make do," you yell back, scanning the area. You spot Caitlyn and a few others on the walls, their snipers picking off threats in the distance.

You, Vi, and the handful of armed residents form a protective line, herding panicked civilians towards their homes. "Get inside! Lock your doors!" you shout, your voice hoarse from the effort.

Children cry for their parents, the elderly struggle to move quickly enough. You see a young mother stumble, her baby wailing in her arms. You rush to her side, helping her to her feet and guiding her to safety.

Everywhere you look, there's movement – people running, fighting, falling.

The air is thick with the stench of death and the deafening cacophony of gunfire. You're shoulder to shoulder with VI, both of you firing relentlessly at the endless wave of walkers. Sweat stings your eyes as you shout, "Vi! On your left!"

She pivots, taking down three walkers in quick succession. But for every one you drop, two more seem to take its place. The situation is rapidly spiraling out of control, and a sinking feeling in your gut tells you you're fighting a losing battle.

But suddenly, powerful headlights cut through the darkness as a convoy of trucks roars onto the scene. Your heart leaps – you'd recognize that cavalry anywhere.

As if materializing from thin air, more trucks appear, effortlessly mowing down walkers and clearing streets. One screeches to a halt in front of you, and then there she is.

A familiar figure vaults from the truck bed – Sevika, her red shawl billowing behind her. She swiftly unslings a shotgun from her back and starts blasting walkers left and right. Her face is composed, every feature carefully controlled, but when her eyes find yours, a fleeting shadow passes over them—a trace of fear and concern.

"You okay?" she shouts over the din, closing the distance between you.

You nod, breathless. "A lot are injured. I don't know, there's too many – I think they're coming from the west gate. Ren said something about Marcus not being able to close it."

Sevika's jaw tightens. She yanks out a radio, barking orders to dispatch teams to the west gate. In seconds, she's handing out weapons, her voice ringing with authority. "Split up! I want a team grabbing as many injured as possible. Anyone bitten, take them out."

As you move to join the fray, Sevika's hand clamps on your arm. "No," she growls. "What the hell are you doing? Get to safety with the others. You're still injured."

"Fine," you concede. "But I'm finding Grayson first."

Sevika gives a curt nod before sprinting back into action. You catch a glimpse of Vi, her red hair unmistakable as she leaps into a truck bed.

You weave through the chaos, dodging walkers and searching for Grayson. Gunfire echoes off buildings, punctuated by the revving of engines and the sounds of walkers being dispatched.

A scream to your left – you spin, firing instinctively. A walker drops, inches from a couple. You quickly wave to them to follow and you sprint to the safe house together. Your leg protests, but adrenaline keeps you moving.

Your heart pounds as you finally spot Grayson, but she's going the opposite direction.

"Grayson!" you shout. "Sevika and her team are here. We need to get everyone to safety!"

She doesn't slow down. "There's someone stuck in a car!"

That's when you see it - a vehicle surrounded by a writhing mass of walkers, their decaying hands clawing at the windows. Inside, you catch a glimpse of a terrified face.

Without hesitation, you sprint after Grayson. The two of you work in tandem, picking off walkers. When you reach the car, Grayson covers you as you wrench the door open. A young boy, no older than seven, practically leaps into her arms.

"We've got to move!" Grayson shouts.

You guys run, the child clinging to her as you lead the way. You’re clearing the path, and you’re halfway to the safehouse when you hear the dreaded click of an empty chamber.

"I'm out!" you yell.

Grayson turns, her eyes flashing with a decision you can see forming before she even speaks. "Take the kid. Go!"

"Wait, we can make it together!"

She shakes her head, placing the boy into your arms. "Sevika's crew is here, remember? I'll be okay. Get everyone to safety!"

Before you can protest, she's shoving you toward safety, using her body as a shield for the child. You run, every step feeling like a betrayal, but knowing you have to trust her.

You make it to a house, handing off the child to waiting arms. Your lungs burn as you gasp for air, eyes scanning the chaos for any sign of Grayson.

Suddenly, Sevika's there, her face smeared with grime and blood but her eyes alight with fierce triumph. "We closed the gate. Got them all."

Relief floods you for a moment, but then reality crashes back. "Wait, where's Grayson?"

Confusion flickers across Sevika's face, but before she can respond, a heart-wrenching wail cuts through the air. You both rush outside, joining a growing crowd.

The scene that greets you turns your blood to ice. Caitlyn is on the ground, her body wracked with sobs. Vi kneels beside her, arms wrapped around her shaking form. "I couldn't save her," Caitlyn chokes out between gasps. "I couldn't shoot them fast enough."

Her sniper lies discarded in the dirt, and that's when you see her. Grayson.

The world seems to tilt on its axis. You stumble forward, unable to process what you're seeing. Grayson, who was just beside you moments ago. Grayson, who sacrificed herself to save a child. Grayson, whose quiet strength held your community together.

She now lies on the ground, her body wracked with violent coughs, blood staining her lips. Her breaths had grown shallow, each one more of a struggle than the last, and when she reached for Sevika’s hand, you knew what she was asking for. Sevika’s fingers trembled as she grasped Grayson’s hand, and when Grayson whispered, “Do it,” you saw a flash of something break inside Sevika.

She obeyed.

The gunshot echoed in your ears, louder than the chaos around you, but it was the sight of Sevika gently closing Grayson’s eyes that broke you. Sevika had always been unbreakable, she seemed immune to the horrors of this world. But as she knelt beside Grayson, you saw the cracks forming. She closed Grayson’s eyes, her hand trembling just for a second before she stood up, towering over the body like a stone sentinel.

You could barely breathe, the grief suffocating you, making it impossible to think about anything other than how many bodies that needs burying tomorrow. How many families would be broken by the news? How many children would cry for family and friends who would never come home?

“Grayson?” Ren’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with innocence and confusion. The kid was supposed to be inside the safe house but instead, she stood there, eyes wide and uncomprehending, staring at the lifeless form on the ground. “Why is Grayson sleeping? Tell her to wake up… We won, didn’t we?”

You wanted to tell her something—anything—but the words choked in your throat. Ren dropped to her knees beside Grayson, her tiny hands shaking as they touched the cold, lifeless body.

Sevika finally moved, her expression unreadable, her walls up higher than ever. Without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Grayson’s yellow band. She knelt down, her massive frame suddenly so small beside Ren, and gently placed the band in the child’s trembling hands.

Ren looked up at Sevika, eyes full of questions. But before anything could be said, Silco emerged from the shadows, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. He was flanked by his men, their faces grim and cold, and at the center of it all was Marcus.

He was barely recognizable—his face a mangled mess of bruises and blood. He was dragged forward, forced to his knees in the dirt where Grayson had fallen. The sight of him brought Sevika to her feet, her fists clenched tight. You could see the battle raging inside her, the desire to end him right then and there, but she held back.

"Look at him," he began, his tone soft, almost conversational, as if he were discussing something trivial. "A man who betrayed the very community that kept him protected him fed and protected. Who left nothing but the ashes of his own cowardice."

He walked slowly around Marcus, like a predator circling its prey. "This is the price of betrayal, the cost of thinking you can stand in the way of what must be done. You all know him," Silco continued, addressing the crowd that had gathered, their eyes fixed on the broken man at his feet. "You know his face, his uniform, his lies. But you must also know this: in a world where there are no second chances, there are no second thoughts."

Silco’s voice grew harder, colder, as he leaned down close to Marcus’s ear. "Your cowardice, your betrayal, a mistake that cost how many lives today? And now, you will pay the price for that."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final, and Marcus’s body shuddered, knowing what was coming. Silco straightened, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Let this be a lesson to all who would think to cross us, to cross me. There is no forgiveness in this world, only retribution."

You don’t know what happened next, because you’re taking Ren into your arms and you’re moving – away from the crowd, away from the punishment that you know her father will face.

Ren clings to you, burying her face in your chest, and you hold her close, wishing you could shield her from all of this. "What’s happening to Daddy?" she asks, her voice muffled by your shirt. "And Grayson?"

You didn’t have an answer. The only thing you could do was hold her tighter, trying to block out the screams, the fire, the blood.

Time passes, the night dragging on in a blur of grief. Inside the house, the silence was deafening. You had scrubbed the blood from Ren’s skin, but it still lingered in the air, the scent of death refusing to leave. Grayson’s face kept flashing before your eyes, her last breath, her last words, the way her body crumpled in Sevika’s arms.

And now, as you stared out the window, you saw them—Silco’s men, forming a straight, omnious line as they marched out into the night. At the center of it all was a giant wooden cross, and tied to it was Marcus. His head hung low, his body limp, but he was still alive.

Your breath caught in your throat when Sevika looked up at the window. For a moment, your eyes locked, and you saw nothing in her gaze but a cold, empty challenge. The Sevika you knew wasn’t there, but replaced by someone who had buried whatever was left of her soul beneath layers of survival and duty. She turns away, breaking the gaze as she climbed into the backseat of a vehicle. You watch as the trucks disappeared into the night until the only thing you could see was the small form of the cross.

The night presses in around you, heavy with loss, and you wonder if anything would ever feel whole again.

taglist:

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@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp @cewl-casper @crying-lighting443

@sodavrr @sweet-lover-girl @love-sevikalove @pinkyykisses @glass-apothecary

@mulan-but-gay @lesbnrock @hyuckiesoftie

#arcane sevika #sevika #sevika imagine #arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #grayson arcane #wlw fanfic #zombie apocolypse au #sevika x female reader

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catscidr · 4 months ago

Text

// what's the difference between scotch and whisky anyways //

i. note — /edit/ i said i would fix the formatting later and Now is later hi hellooo. sorry for not posting, i suddenly couldnt bring myself to write for more than five minutes at a time lmaoa ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) but i hope the dottore enjoyers like this at the very least. rn im working on chapter 3 of fbbts and a darker, separate dottore/reader one shot and a couple of jjk fics if anyone would even be interested in reading them lol. but in the meantime, here's drunken shenanigans ft everyone's favorite war criminal ii. includes — dottore x gn!reader, webttore (beta) and omega cameos. various mentioned harbingers iii. cw — fluff, crack sorta, alcohol stuff, dottore is ooc because he's Not Sober, everyone is clingy. fun stuff yk iv. wc — 3,5k -> ao3 link

It’s a popular stereotype that Snezhnayans are heavy drinkers, but the fact lies within the fatui. They’re shameless; whether it’s showing up to work inebriated or drinking on the job, they’ll hold onto the ‘snezhnayans have a high alcohol tolerance’ stereotype with clenched fists and a bottle at their lips.

However, that fact only applies to the lackeys—agents that are stationed for hours on end without a break, agents that, at times, need liquid courage to face the horrors that come with the job. The Harbingers are an entirely different case.

They balance each other, in a way. Where Tartaglia can down three shots of fire water and come out virtually unscathed, Damselette would rather not be caught within a hundred meters of a drop of alcohol. Where The Knave occasionally enjoys a glass of wine in her office, The Balladeer sneers at the choice of drink.

None came together to go out for drinks, if not because of their job taking up a lot of time out of their days. No, none of the Harbingers were really close enough to let themselves be seen so vulnerable, if one dared drink themselves to the point of being unable to walk in a straight line.

Thus, there had only been rumors circulating the halls of Zapolyarny palace. Hushed speculations spoken between coworkers, told with an air of excitement. No one has ever seen their Lords in a state other than wholly glorious, so it’s only human nature to wonder just what they would be like if their dignity were knocked down a peg—how they would be if they indulged in simple human vices.

There are two kinds of Harbingers; ones that lack any rumors about their drinking habits, and ones that are so intriguing that if you were to strike up a conversation with a fatui agent, you would start theorizing about what kind of drunk they’re like before saying hello. Tartaglia and The Knave are part of the former, along with The Rooster and The Fair Lady. The latter consists of (unsurprisingly) The Balladeer, our sweet Damselette, and the two big shots at the top.

Rumors of The Captain’s drinking habits are usually quite short-lived. People either have too much respect for him to speculate about something as childish as how he acts when he’s had too much to drink, or fear him too much to risk spreading rumors.

But regarding The Doctor...

It’s no secret that, even if he is eccentric and has a penchant for unconventional research methods, he has quite the loyal following. Agents will rally to defend him if they hear anyone slandering him, insisting that he’s reasonable and logical. ‘If you simply do your job, you have nothing to worry about’ is what they’d say.

Although he’s amassed his fair share of fans within the fatui, they’re unlike The Captain’s loyal following; The Doctor’s subordinates are the first to whisper theories about their boss’ drinking habits. He’s only part human now, so maybe alcohol doesn’t affect him the way it does normal people like Tartaglia. Oh, but he seems the type to need to unwind occasionally, so maybe he has a secret stash of wine somewhere in his office? What if, in his free time, he creates various concoctions and cocktails to drink?

Seeing as he understands science deeper than anyone else, mixology should be a walk in the park for a scientist as lucrative as him.

Wrong.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

The glare sent your way is nothing short of vicious. There stood in front of you one of his segments, the one with the infamous short fuse. “Why are you here?”

You internalize the sigh you want to let out, deciding against making him mad when it seems he can’t even stand straight for longer than a few seconds.

“Lord Pantalone dismissed me early.” You strategically omit why he let you go in the first place. “Where’s Prime?”

As per anything retaining to Il Dottore, your relationship was unconventional at best. The term closest to what you were, if you wanted to describe said relationship, would be lovers—but... not quite? Still. Neither you nor Dottore cared enough to put a clear label on it, so you’ve resorted to letting people speculate— it can be quite entertaining to listen to people guess while being loud and wrong, anyways.

You used to work under him as one of his many researchers. When you both started taking your relationship seriously, he threw in the idea of promoting you to being his personal assistant; that way he could (give you special treatment) have someone more competent than his last assistant take care of “menial tasks” like his tedious paperwork.

You refused the generous offer, insisting that it would be unprofessional to work under him as his partner. After many late-night discussions (and stubborn headbutting of differing opinions) you both have come to an agreement in which you would work for Lord Pantalone as a financial planner.

(You finally managed to convince him by bringing up how you could, hypothetically, pull some strings on your end in his favor—that you could persuade Pantalone to allot more funding for his research. If he had any shame left, it would have been embarrassing how quickly he shook your hand to accept your conditions.)

Now, while you spent most of your time in an office in The Regrator’s office building near the Palace, you occasionally came by to drop off documents. Of course, you would use your short trips as an excuse to go see Dottore (even if you could do so at any time anyways, given how much authority he had.)

However, sometimes you just want to work.

You’ll leave the comfort of your cubicle to go see him and the extensions of himself, sure, but you still had a job to do. Papers piled up, clients grew impatient, and even your boss wasn’t immune to their nasty attitude whenever he held a meeting with a particularly irritating client. Thus, sometimes you wished you could truly focus, lose track of time and work until your wrist forced you to take a break.

This wouldn't happen today, clearly. Seeing as one of Dottore’s lackeys rushed to your office to bring you to the Haeresys, you most likely won’t be seeing your desk until further notice.

Now you were stuck with a cryptic Beta, trying your best to use what little knowledge about the clones’ machinery you managed to wring out of your stubborn lover.

“Where’s Prime?” You run a hand over your wrinkled coat sleeve, keeping your voice calm and steady. Patient, else you’d be subjected to the segment’s indignation.

“Dunno.”

You sigh. Is he a scientist or a child? “You do know. Where is he?”

“I told you I don’t know!” He throws his hands up, accidentally striking his mask in the way—effectively leaving it to rest at an angle on his face. Most of his mouth showed now, instead of the half you’re used to seeing. And the holes for the eyes don’t quite go where they should...

Blinking, you take in the sight in front of you while he calms down. His crimson eyes were glassy, and his lips formed a permanent pout, vastly out of character for a segment that supposedly represented The Doctor at the most volatile stage of his life. Azure locks curled around his cheeks, though they were usually tucked out of the way. His clothes were all wrinkled, in a way that left you wondering if you shouldn’t tend to him instead. Dealing with his attitude is annoying, but it’ll be amusing to think about later, I guess.

“Do you really not know...?”

“No.”

“Then, do you know why I was called to the lab?”

“No. Yes... probably not. Uh,” he crosses his arms over his chest and loses his balance for just a second, “I think I do.”

You raise an inquisitive brow, silently encouraging him to continue.

“Give me a second.” Beta shuts his eyes, shoulders slumping. His mask was still crooked—you had half a mind to fix it, but held back the twitch in your fingers. After a few seconds he pipes up, uncrossing his arms to reach out to you.

“Come.”

The segment grabs your wrist and drags you into the hallways of the Palace, ignoring your yelp of surprise and the stares of various agents lingering in the halls. You pass by ornate statues and paintings, the sight more unfamiliar than not.

“Beta, where are we-”

“Hush, I can’t walk when you’re talking my ear off.”

...Right. Something is definitely wrong.

After about five minutes of running around like headless chickens you tug your arm back, making Beta turn around indignantly. You lift your hands up in front of you before he can speak.

“Did you mean to bring me to Lady Signora’s office?” you ask, lips curled up into a small smile seeing his mask still laid crooked on his face. With a gentle hand you fix it, cold fingers grazing his burning cheek.

“...”

Beta’s brows furrow as he avoids your gaze, huffing dramatically. Poor guy, you mused.

“Alright, let’s go to the lab, then. He must be there, right? Where was Prime last time you saw him?”

“...his office, probably,” he murmurs.

With a nod and a smile akin to someone doing some gentle parenting, you place a hand on his back and help guide him to Haeresys. The stairs were hard to walk down, but with just a bit of patience and a bit of Beta clutching your arm while shouting that you were trying to assassinate him, you make it down in one piece.

You remove your gloves and place your palm into the scan, then input the lengthy password to open the laboratory’s large doors. They slide open, revealing the absence of normal researchers and noise. You spot Omega standing over the remains of a ruin machine with a clipboard in his hands and look back towards Beta.

“Go sit, I’ll go ask Omega about Prime’s whereabouts.”

The clone nods, trudging his legs along to lay down on the leather couch tucked away in the lab.

As you put away your large coat and hang it up in the small rack near the doors and make your way towards Omega, you notice the slow rhythm of his handwriting—when he’s usually seemingly speedrunning writing down notes, he’s now leisurely writing away, unaware of your presence.

“Omega.”

The latter turns to you, masking his surprise with a small smile instead. “My dear,” he practically purrs, putting away the clipboard in a swift movement, placing the pen in his coat pocket.

“I was alerted that something was... off, with Prime. Do you know where he is?”

And where you thought Omega would pick up on Beta’s lack of decorum, you were sorely mistaken. The clone walks up to you with that same smile brightening his features, placing both hands on your shoulders oh so gently.

“He’s in his office. But enough about him, I haven’t seen you in a while, beloved. Why must you keep me away from you?” he muses, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You tilt your head to avoid being stabbed by his mask’s beak, raising your hands to press against his chest to make some distance. The action proved to be futile, of course.

We saw each other yesterday, you murmur. “I’m sorry, I’ll get back to you in a moment, alright?” You offer him a warm smile in hopes that he’ll listen, seeing as he seemed to be quite... mushy.

It works, and he lets you go with a curt nod, retreating to go... somewhere. You didn’t linger around long enough to figure it out, since you knew where to go now.

Walking across the lab, you note how things seemed to be more out of place than usual. It couldn’t have been a researcher, they always had to clean up after themselves, courtesy of their boss. So, the mess had to be caused by them...

You finally stand in front of his door, raising a fist to knock. A yelp leaves you as you’re whisked away, the door slamming shut just as quickly as it swung open.

“Dottor-”

“Can you fucking believe how inept these agents are? They dare speak to me with such disrespect after delivering the lousiest job I’ve ever seen.” Dottore rambles, pulling you deeper into his office. You observe the state of his workspace, namely the papers scattered onto the ground and the... bottlecap on the floor, right next to his trashcan filled with crumpled up paper...?

“Showing up in the lab with their damn hands empty save for the half empty bottle of scotch they tried to hide. Idiots were too shitfaced to notice how I noticed.”

“Okay, Dottore, what are you-”

He gestures wildly as he speaks, his hands the only way for you to read him as his mask hid most of his features. The blue lines taunt you; though you’re tempted to take it off, you feel like he might just lunge at you if you did.

“And then they had the gall to insist that the bottle was theirs when I confiscated it.” Dottore pushes you down to sit on the couch, a small oof leaving you in consequence. “Anything that enters this fucking lab belongs to me, I’m the boss, I decide what flies and what does not.”

Absolutely unaware of your muffled giggles as you piece things together, he keeps ranting, turning his back to you as he stomps away towards his desk. “Not to mention these damn lackeys have had multiple warnings up until now,” he spits out. “Lord Harbinger, we’re sorry! We’ll clean up the lab to make up for this offense! Lord Harbinger, it won’t happen again! Who do they take me for, a moron?!”

The higher pitch he uses to imitate (and make fun of) the agents almost makes you lose it. But you keep your composure, sitting demurely, listening.

Dottore comes back with a bottle in hand, orange liquid swirling around the thick glass as he stumbles closer to where you sat. He joins you without warning, creating a dip in the sofa next to you—almost forcing you to lean onto him for support. His free arm drapes over the back as he sighs loudly, making you stifle a laugh behind your hand.

A pregnant pause stretches between the two of you as his anger simmers down to embers. You lean forward, attempting to take a look at the label on the bottle in his hand.

“What’re you holding there, love?” you ask sweetly. Glancing up you’re able to steal a peek at his eyes from underneath his dark mask—Archons was he absolutely gone.

It takes him a second to respond, almost as if he forgot you were even there in the first place.

“Whisky.”

“I thought it was scotch.”

“Same thing.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s n-”

“It is.”

Maybe it wasn't the brightest thing to do, messing with him while he’s this inebriated. But it sure was entertaining.

“Alright. Well, how much did you drink?”

“A sip or two.”

As if on cue, he brings the bottle up to his lips and takes a swig. Your grin widens, thoroughly entertained by the show; who else had the privilege of seeing The Doctor so drunk he could barely formulate something that made sense?

You bring his attention back on you as you place a hand on his knee, leaning close. Dottore immediately snaps into place, gaze flickering down to your lips from the proximity.

With a swift hand you grab the scotch from his hands, inspecting the amount still left in the bottle. If he said it was half empty when he confiscated it, then...

“Dearest, did you drink a quarter of this bottle?” You're not even supposed to drink it straight from the bottle, either is what you wished to add, but seeing how defensive he was already, you figured it would just make things more complicated than they needed to be.

As if stung by the Tsaritsa’s delusion, he immediately stiffens and defends himself. “I did not, I told you I only had a sip.”

The way his bottom lip jutted out was almost cute, if you dared to describe him in such a way. Compliments could wait though; you had answers to seek.

“Mhm, a sip. Well,” you put the bottle down on a coaster on the coffee table and turn to face him properly, “what happened to the segments? They’re all a little... woozy.” Your fingers trail his arm, tracing circles in their wake.

Dottore swallows, Adam's apple bobbing as he opens his mouth to speak. “We’re connected, albeit loosely. They could be affected by the few sips of scotch I drank, though I would have some work cut out for me if that were the case. I can’t let them be so weak after all.”

The way he spoke sounded, for lack of better words, pouty.

Was he... sulking?

“And since we’re connected, I know you spoke to Beta ‘n Omega earlier.”

He most definitely is. He's even slurring his words, now...

“Yeah? I was asking them where you were so I could check up on you, baby.” You chuckle softly, taking the liberty of putting his mask away. Bright, glassy red eyes stare down into you, and you hold back the urge to smother his face in kisses.

“You didn’t have to talk to them, you could have just asked me.”

“I was looking for you, so I couldn’t have.”

“Why not?”

You scoff, smiling as you adjust yourself on the couch. Dottore notices and takes the liberty of pushing you down, laying his head down so his ear is on your chest, cheek pressed up into you. “I’m sorry, I’ll ask you next time,” you respond.

That satisfies him, enough to render him silent for a handful of seconds before he speaks up again.

“...I need to get back to work,” he huffs.

You bring a hand up and run it through his disheveled locks, careful not to tug at the small knots in the hair at the back of his neck. Twirling the hair of his mullet you hum, noting how his weight seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. No way is he going to get any work done if he falls asleep here.

“Take a break, you deserve it. In the meantime, you can think of a suitable way to punish those stupid agents from earlier, right?”

A quiet hum is all you get in response. You look down expecting to see his unnerving red eyes to be staring up at you, but you’re met with the sight of his features completely lax instead. Azure hair pools around his face, settling on your chest where his face rose in time with your breaths.

You would have dimmed the lights and turned off his computer if you knew he was going to keep you hostage on the couch. Though you can’t really complain at the turn of events; it’s rare for Dottore to be the one to initiate skinship in the relationship.

It was quiet, but you managed to hear the low dear? that left his lips. You hum, not wanting to speak as to not break the quiet atmosphere lulling you to a sense of peace.

After a minute of silence, you decide to repeat yourself—this time a little louder than before. “What is it?”

Another minute passes, just as quiet as the last. The sound of his slow, deep breaths fills the room, accompanied by the low scratches of your nails on his scalp. His hair parts where your fingers tread through it, and you quietly note that you should trim his hair soon.

Il Dottore’s poor alcohol tolerance will always be a mystery to the public, because there’s no way you would ever let anyone in on the way he cuddles up to you when he’s had too much to drink.

#dottore x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x you #il dottore x you #dottore genshin impact #dottore x gn reader #il dottore x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #cw drinking #cw swearing

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starsinthesky5 · 5 months ago

Text

you belong with me IV part 2 || joe burrow x reader

description: being each other's everything is all you two have ever wanted, and now you finally are in every way possible.

a/n: first and foremost THANK YOU to all my anons and everyone who sent in requests and ideas! i appreciate you all so much and hopefully this lived up to all your expectations! i got sooo many requests and ideas for this particular fic and had so much fun working on it!! love you all!!!

second of all, thank you for patiently waiting! sorry it took me this long LMAO

edit: oh and forgot to add, there’s a good few references to superstar by taylor swift towards the end! wouldn’t be YBWM without fearless references!

warnings: language, SMUT. (there’s a lot.)

word count: 19 k

you belong with me master list (previous parts can be found here)

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

(Direct continuation of part 1)

After looking at the photo strips for a few more moments, you walked back out of the closet and sat down on his bed, your eyes looking around his room as you tried to think of what you could do now.

While sitting there you noticed some things about his room that you hadn’t before, like how he hung up the star map you got him for his birthday up next to the picture of the two of you and his parents after the national championship game. You stared at the photo a little more carefully, realizing how you all looked so much like a family even back then and how much you and Joe looked like a couple in the photo even though you weren't.

“Missed all the signs,” you giggled to yourself as you then looked over at his TV table. Various small LEGO structures, a few books about space and physics, and some more photos were placed on the table. There were photos of him and his friends, some pictures from when he was a kid, and a few photos from the past few years which included you. His room perfectly represented who he was inside as it was filled with meaningful pictures, nerdy little knick-knacks, and everything close to his heart.

On the outside, Joe appeared stoic, hard-headed, and confident. On the inside, he was a full softie and the most adorable person on the planet and you were lucky enough to get to see this side of him which not many people did since he kept that part away from the world. You also got to see a side of him that was specifically reserved for you. The intimate side of him; his lover-boy personality, his unparalleled sexiness, and the part of him that made you weak in the knees.

“His duality is insane,” you whispered to yourself as you got up from the bed and walked out of his room. You made your way down the hall towards the stairs before backtracking when you passed his office.

You walked inside, giggling as you were met with a shelf filled with more LEGO structures including the one you got him for his birthday. “Such a softie,” you smiled to yourself as you walked behind his desk chair, taking in everything in the room. You never really came into his office so this was engaging for you. You never really explored his house now that you thought about it. You usually just stayed wherever he was since the majority of the time you were here in the past was when you were just friends and had no reason to venture around the house.

You looked down at the desk and saw his computer, his calendar, a silly doodle bob pen holder, a Bengals-themed Newton’s cradle, and then a framed recent photo of the two of you.

You tilted your head as you picked up the frame, examining the photo that you remembered him taking just a few weeks ago.

Flashback to New Year’s Eve

You were sitting on the couch in Joe’s backyard, the warmth of the fire pit in front of you heating you up as you sat cross-legged in your champagne-colored strapless skin-tight dress, waiting for Joe to come back with your drinks. You glanced up at the TV that was mounted above the Patio Bar where Joe was pouring you both a glass of Blanc de Blancs, watching the live view from Times Square as the ball drop was commencing momentarily. Your eyes then dropped down to Joe, who looked incredibly gorgeous wearing a cream long-sleeved knit polo sweater while topping off your drinks. He placed the bottle down and looked up, his eyes meeting yours which sent chills down your body.

He grabbed both the flutes and walked over to you, “You’re staring,” he said with a cocky smile as he placed them down on the side table and sat down next to you.

“It’s for a good reason,” you bit your lip as you gave him a slow once over. “You look amazing,”.

“I know a girl with good taste,” he shrugged as he stretched out his arm behind you and brought you in closer.

“You sure do,” you smiled as you laid your head against his shoulder after kissing his cheek.

“How much time do we have before the ball drop?” he asked as he gently ran his thumb across your shoulder.

“Hmm, about 15 minutes,” you said after you looked back at the TV. “I still can’t believe you didn’t invite anyone else over to watch,” you giggled.

“Why invite more people over when just you is enough?” he asked, a blush creeping up on your face as a result of his words.

“I appreciate the lovey-doveyness from you but I’m sure your parents and family members are pretty confused as to why you bailed from the family party and didn’t initially offer to have them over at your place like you usually do. They probably think you’re spending New Year alone since they don’t know about us yet,” you said as you looked up at the starry night sky.

“I wanted it to be just us tonight,” he said as he joined you by also looking up at the sky.

“Any reason in particular?” you say, turning your head to look at him. “You know I love your family and wouldn’t mind celebrating with them, even if it meant having to sneak away for our New Year’s kiss,”.

“It’s our first New Year together as a couple so I wanted it to be special and with 0 distractions. I want to start off the year with the one that means the most to me,” he said, turning his head to face you after he finished talking.

“Awww, Joe,” you cooed, giving him a quick peck before tucking your head into his neck.

He definitely had made the night pretty special. First, it was treating you to a delicious and impressive dinner he prepared all on his own (with some tips from his chef), then you both decided to make cupcakes together (with a side of karaoke) since you had quite a bit of time before midnight, then it was making a bucket list for the year filled with things you wanted to do together while the cupcakes were in the oven, and after that it was you two sitting on the floor for about an hour building the LEGO rose bouquet set he got you for Christmas (you both really loved your LEGO’s). At about 11:00 you both went out to the backyard and got situated by the fire while watching the New Year’s special on TV.

“We’ve had a pretty wild year haven’t we?” he said while letting out a content sigh.

“Very wild,” you nodded. “Specifically the final stretch,” you added, referring to the past month with Joe. “But it’s been the best year of my life and the next one will be even better…because of you,”.

Joe swore his heart exploded for maybe the 100th time when you said that. The fact that he made you feel like this was the greatest feeling in the world. “I love you,” he said before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “So much that it’s not even funny,” he said in between kisses.

“The feeling is mutual,” you smiled against him.

“This year’s going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to do everything on our bucket list,” he softly laughed.

“Me too. I think I’m looking most excited to go camping and road-tripping to California,”.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never been camping,” Joe widened his eyes and laughed.

“Listen, I don’t want to get eaten by a bear or kidnapped by some random man in the woods,” you blinked.

“What if that happens to us? I don’t think me being with you makes a difference,”.

“Yes, it does. The bear will be too blinded by your hotness to eat us and you’ll scare the random man away with your big muscles,” you teased while gripping his bicep.

“I’ll probably book us a cabin,” he nodded after hearing your plan of action if you came across something like that.

“Nooo,” you groaned like a little child. “I want the traditional camping experience. Tent and everything,”.

“We can still bring a tent and do that for a night but I think you’d feel more comfortable in a cabin,” he said while moving your hair out of your face. “Sleeping in a sleeping bag gets exhausting after the first night anyway. And there’s more privacy in a cabin so we won’t be at risk of being seen doing certain things,” he whispered in your ear.

“Can’t stay away, can you?” you giggled at his insatiableness.

“Mm, Mm,” he shook his head. “It’s like a drug,” he said as he kissed your cheek, referring to the intimate time between you two. “Can’t quit and won’t quit,”

“Good to know. I should probably change up my birth control then since we refuse to do it the way it was taught in high school health class,” you laughed as you looked back at the TV again, feeling Joe laugh beside you as you saw that the time was now 11:53.

“Oops. 7 minutes to go,” you said as you sat back up and handed Joe his champagne glass while grabbing yours.

“Time to make a toast,” he said as he lifted his glass in the air.

“Okay,” you giggled as you lifted your glass in the air. “But what are we toasting to?”.

“To us,” he smiled. “A toast to us and a new year filled with good vibes, lots of love, countless laughs, and even more moments where I fall even more in love with you than I already am,”.

You felt your heart swell while your eyes pooled with tears, none falling through as you blinked them away and spoke up. “And I want to toast to the same thing, but also to you,”.

“To me?” Joe asked, slightly confused.

“Mhm. To the person who literally turned my world upside down 9 years ago. The person that I’m lucky enough to call my best friend and my boyfriend. The person that makes me the happiest woman alive and the person that I can’t wait to spend every single New Years with from now on. The person that makes my heart smile and sets my soul on fire. The person that is my absolute everything,” you grinned.

Joe stayed silent for a few moments as he took in the beautiful words you were saying to him before giving you a small nod and a fervent smile, “I’ll toast to that,”. You both moved your flutes closer together, a small clinking noise coming once you finished the toast before downing your champagne in one big gulp.

You watched as a drop of champagne slid down Joe’s lip and slowly down to his chin, you quickly leaned over and slid your tongue along his chin to catch the drop, then pressed a kiss to the area after you were done.

“Ohhh, so we’re already getting to it?” Joe wiggled his eyebrows.

“Nope,” you giggled. “Not yet. Just making sure you didn’t get champagne on your clothes,” you said as you looked back at the time and saw that you had 3 minutes left.

Joe looked back as well and then stood up from his seat, extending his hand out to help you up before leading you to the open floor area. “It’s almost time,” he grinned.

“Yes, it is,” you laughed as you moved your hair back. “Our first ever New Year's kiss. One for the history books,”.

“Damn straight,” Joe said as he abruptly pulled you closer to him by your waist, the sudden movement catching you off guard.

“Someone’s eager,” you smiled.

“Oh, it’s definitely not like I haven’t been wishing for this moment every December 31st for the past 9 years,” he rolled his eyes.

“Well, you’re about to have your wish come true in about 60 seconds,” you winked.

Joe smiled at you before turning around to see the TV, the camera panning over Times Square and zooming in on all the couples getting ready for their kisses. Then he turned back over to you and saw the pure happiness on your face and the little twinkle in your eye that was even more precious in the lighting of his backyard. He still couldn’t quite believe this was real life. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to believe that this is real life as this all felt like a dream that he didn’t want to wake up from.

Joe took a deep breath before turning a bit more serious, “I love you. And I know I say it to you so often that it may lose its meaning but I really really love you more than anything else in this world and I’m so lucky and glad that I can do this with you. You make my world complete, you’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met, and you’ve changed my life for the better,” he quickly said as he gazed into your beautiful eyes.

“Joe…I-”.

“10!” the countdown on the TV said.

You looked into his eyes and felt all of the thoughts in your head disappear. The only thing you could think about was how much you loved him, which was more than enough to fill your empty head.

“9!” you heard as you felt his grip on your waist tighten.

“8!” you heard as you felt his hot breath against your skin, your arms looping around his neck as you both smiled at each other like two love-struck fools.

“7!” you heard as you felt Joe sway you back and forth, a soft laugh coming from your mouth.

“6!” you heard as you moved your hands into his soft hair, twirling the strands around your fingers as you continued to get lost in his eyes.

“5!” you heard as you heard Joe speak up again.

“You are the best thing that’s ever been mine,” he said.

“4!” you heard before you spoke up.

“I'm completely, utterly, and madly in love with you,” you whispered.

“3!” you heard as you both slowly ghosted your lips over each other, your cold noses nuzzling against each other as you looked down at his pink lips.

“2!” you heard as your breathing picked up while your eyes moved back up to his heated gaze. “You’re everything,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

“1!” you heard before you crashed your lips against each other.

“Happy New Year!” the TV said, sounds of celebrations echoing through the backyard as fireworks started going off above you.

You cupped Joe’s face and pulled him closer as he held you tighter, your lips saying so much to each other just like how your hearts were as they were so incredibly close given you close your chest was to his. Fireworks were going off inside of them, just like the ones that were going off in the sky above you.

Your tongues tangled in each other's mouths, the taste of champagne lingering which made the kiss even more intoxicating than it already was. He was kissing you as if he had never kissed you before; the way his big hand gripped your waist and slid down your back was sending heat throughout your cold body, the way his lips molded against yours was almost like they were specifically made for you, and the warm and comfortable feeling you got from him was an irreplaceable feeling you couldn’t replicate any way else.

After a few more moments of being attached to each other’s lips, you pulled away—both of you a little breathless—and rested your foreheads against each other, the biggest grins on both your faces.

“Happy New Year, Baby,” Joe whispered.

“Happy New Year, Joey,” you blushed.

End of flashback

The photo was a picture of the two of you post-kiss, the fireworks visible in the background as you leaned your head against his cheek and rested your hand on his chest (the hand with the ring) and both of you had the most raw and beautiful smiles on your faces.

You put the frame back down before pulling out your phone, clicking on Joe’s contact, and typing up a message.

You: saw the photo on your desk.. you move fast ;)

Joe: good photos and even better memories deserve to be shared asap 🤷‍ i also like having a constant reminder of you when i'm in there

You: have I told you how much I love you lately? because i realllyyyy do

Joe: maybe a few times but I don’t mind hearing it again.. but anyway, how are you doing? even though it’s only been a little over an hour ish since I’ve been gone

You: great! took a nice long shower in your bathroom which by the way, water pressure is to die for. you’ll need to get used to me taking hour showers because wow..

Joe: noted lol. what’re you doing now?

You: was about to head downstairs to make something for dinner but your office caught my eye first

Joe: you aren’t naked are you…

You: i was kidding when i said that, well kind of..but im clothed don’t worry

Joe: good to hear ;) and also don’t bother making anything for dinner. i ordered you some food and it should be at the house in a little bit

You let out a soft laugh as you shook your head, Joe was always two steps ahead of you and always made sure you had everything you needed even if he wasn’t physically there with you.

Joe: there’s also a bunch of wine in the wine cellar so pick out your favorite and have at it. just don’t get too drunk without me

You: no promisessss. but thanks for dinner 🥰

Joe: of course. im gonna go get dinner from the dining room with the guys so I’ll text you later?

You: okay, i love you <3

Joe: i love you x2

You let out a relaxed breath before slipping your phone back into your pocket, taking one more look around his office before walking out and making your way downstairs again.

You find yourself in the wine cellar a few minutes later, your eyes glancing around the room as you are a bit overwhelmed with the amount of wine he has. “For a man who doesn’t drink very often, he sure has a great variety of wine,” you giggled as you looked around for your favorite.

You smiled once you found a bottle of Malbec Rosé, sliding it out from the hold and exiting the cellar. Once you’re back in the kitchen, you pour yourself a hearty glass of the drink and sit back down on the barstool, sliding around as you think about what you could do now.

“Hm, I guess I could just walk around more?” you whispered to yourself as you took a sip before sliding off the stool and getting up, the speaker on the counter by the sink catching your eye.

“Oo, music would be nice,” you thought while pulling out your phone and connecting your music to the speaker. Once you get that situated, you turn up the volume and start your walk around his house.

“I'm no one special, just another wide-eyed girl, Who's desperately in love with you…” you mumble, singing along to the song as you walk past the patio door. You stop and look out from the door, thinking about how this patio would become your patio in a few short weeks. You’d get to have friends and family over here with Joe. You’d get to swim out in the pool with him and you’d get to sit by the fire every night in his arms while talking and watching the stars together. You'd get to watch the seasons pass by with him out there, seeing the leaves turn from green to orange and then covered with snow.

You smiled while taking another sip of your wine before you continued walking, this time along the couch where you both spent a lot of time together watching various shows and movies and sometimes just talking for hours. You looked at the 2 built-in wall shelves on each side of the mounted TV, both decorated with fake plants, some more photos, and some unique decor pieces that you remember helping him pick out. He always had an interesting taste when it came to art and decorations and the house definitely showed that.

“Can’t wait to add my own flair to these things,” you softly chuckled.

You continued walking around the house, this time walking past his special display shelf that had a few of his accolades on it. Your eyes went straight to the National Championship trophy, then to his Heisman, then to the few NFL honors awards, and then his AFC championship trophy. There was a large space next to it that was specifically kept empty because he wanted to put his first Lombardi and his Super Bowl ring there. Your eyes slowly welled with tears as you looked at all of his accomplishments, seeing how far he had come since you first met him all those years ago and how you’d been with him through every single one of these things. Your heart swelled once you realized you’d also get to be with him whenever this empty space would be filled with the greatest accomplishment of all.

You took another sip of your wine and continued walking around the house, taking note of some empty spaces where you could add something of your own. A few minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring so you checked the camera and saw that it was the delivery person with your dinner.

You placed the glass down and got the bags from the door before you walked back into the kitchen and laid everything out on the counter, the first bag was from Chipotle.

“He knows me too well,” you shook your head as you looked at the bowl which had everything you wanted on it. “How did he even memorize my order?”.

The second bag was from a local bakery you loved. “Hm?” you questioned why there was something from the bakery as you opened up the bag, pulling out a square-shaped box. You flipped the lid open and inside sat a beautiful heart-shaped cake with a white frosting base, tiny red hearts scattered across the surface, and a cursive ‘i love you’ in the middle all in red frosting.

“Joe…,” you giggled as you stuffed your face in your hands and then moved them into your hair. His thoughtfulness knew no bounds and he had a constant need to keep you smiling, and whatever he did always worked.

You pulled out your phone again and pulled up his contact, typing up another message to send him.

You: okay im this close to breaking all the rules and sneaking into the hotel and into your room

Joe: i assume this is about the cake? either that or you’re just horny as hell

You: its most definitely about the cake (maybe a bit of the second thing too). how hard do you think it is to break into the facility and steal the mascot’s costume and then show up to the hotel and get up to your floor without being caught? my idea from a few weeks ago still sounds foolproof 🤷‍♀️

Joe: i’d say you probably wouldn’t make it past the front desk before getting the cops called on you

You: yeah you’re probably right because they most definitely will think im your stalker or something 💀.

i just wish i could kiss you right now. you’re the sweetest for this. thank you 💞

Joe: you can make it up to me tomorrow morning :)

You: oh i definitely will

You wished you could’ve thanked him in person but there was nothing you could do at the moment to do so. After a few more minutes of texting about tomorrow, you grabbed your dinner, got comfy on the couch, and turned on an episode of The Office. It didn’t hit the same without Joe next to you, but it made you feel close to him since you were starting to miss him.

“Separation anxiety is brutal,” you joked, only partly though. Normally you wouldn’t be missing him like this but being in the house without him was making it worse than usual.

An hour later

After wrapping up your dinner and eating a slice of the cake, you cleaned everything up downstairs before heading up to the bedroom for the night. Right now you were in his closet as you were trying to find something to spice up your game day look for tomorrow and his jewelry collection was the perfect place to go.

Your eyes scanned his impressive jewelry collection, the sparkly diamonds and jewels were as dazzling as a million tiny stars embedded in the night sky. He had quite a few iced-out chains, some big statement pieces, and some simple more tamer pieces.

Your eyes stopped once you saw his large ‘9’ iced out chain, a smile creeping up on your face because you remember when he wore it for his Bose photo shoot last year and how sexy he looked with it on, his longer headband hair made him even more desirable. You obviously couldn’t say anything then because you were just friends and he had a girlfriend at the time, but now you could say and do whatever you wanted.

You picked up the chain from the velvet pad it was resting on, the necklace a little heavier than you expected. “How the hell does this not break his neck,” you whispered to yourself as you held it up in front of your face. You obviously weren’t going to wear this one tomorrow, but lucky for you he had a smaller version of the necklace right next to it.

“Now that’s my kind of thing,” you giggled as you started to place the necklace back down but stopped once you saw one of his hats sitting on the shelf across the closet. A sultry idea popped into your head, one that you’d never thought of for anyone before let alone Joe.

“I may not be able to physically thank him for being such a great boyfriend, but I can send him a little something to show my appreciation and give him a treat of his own,” you smirked as you took the necklace over to where the hat was. You put the necklace down and slip your clothes off, then put the hat on your head but backwards just like Joe did, and then put the iced-out ‘9’ chain around your neck. You were standing just in your lacy light orange bra and pantie set, the cold diamond ‘9’ resting right above your cleavage. You slipped off one of the straps of your bra so that more of your breast was visible, grabbed your phone, and walked over to the floor-length mirror. You got down on your knees and sat back, spreading open your legs a little bit to get a good position. You opened up the camera and snapped a few pics of yourself like this, then switched up the poses a little bit to tease him.

“He’s gonna love this,” you giggled to yourself.

For the last picture, you took the chain of the necklace and held it between your teeth, the ‘9’ now dangling as you slid the strap of your bra down a little lower, the top of your nipple now in the frame. You snapped a final photo and let go of the necklace which was now starting to hurt your neck. You had never done this for any other guy before so this was new for you, but you were comfortable with it since you knew it was only going to be seen by a guy that absolutely loved you to pieces.

If you told yourself 9 years ago that you’d be sitting inside Joe’s closet taking these kinds of photos to send him, you’d slap yourself in the face and call bullshit. But you shouldn’t be surprised you were doing this considering how ravenous you two had been around each other since the first time you two had sex about a month ago. It was like another part of you was unlocked by him, a part no other guy could crack open. You two just couldn’t stay away from each other.

Flashback to the morning after your first time

Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you felt a pair of warm lips pressing feather-light kisses to your lips. You fully opened your eyes and saw Joe cutely smiling down at you as he was admiring your beautiful face and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Morning beautiful,” he said with a kiss to your forehead, his voice more raspy than usual due to last night’s activities.

“Good morning,” you rasped, your voice also incredibly scratchy given how much you were screaming last night.

“We sound soooo…,” he began to say.

“Fucked out?” you giggled.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his cheeks turning a little red. “It was worth it though. A solid 2 rounds before we crashed,”.

“Did you have fun?” you smiled up at him, internally praying that he enjoyed this as much as you did.

“Fun is an understatement. That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he mumbled as he leaned in to kiss you again. You smiled and grabbed his cheek with your hand, moving closer to his head as the kiss slowly became more heated. His hands went under the covers and settled on the bare skin of your lower back, his soft and familiar touch making you want more as he pulled you closer to him. You shrugged the covers off your nude body and slowly hooked your legs around his waist, your lips still attached as you got on top of him.

His hands settled on your hips as you continued to share a feverish kiss for a few more moments. Both of your tongues tangled in each other's mouths; your hands were massaging the soft skin of his neck while he was tracing and lightly scratching your back.

“Hey, what was that for?” Joe pouted after you abruptly pulled away.

“Want to make it a solid 3 rounds?” you winked, your body still very sore but sizzling with anticipation because of the man underneath you.

Joe looked at you for a few moments, thinking about how lucky he was to be sitting here with you right now, especially like this. You two were sharing such intimate moments with each other and he had never thought that this would’ve ever happened, but this was reality. “I thought you’d never ask. I cannot get enough of you,” he grinned as he started to scooch up to flip you both over.

You placed your hands on both of his shoulders and pushed him back down, “Mm, Mm. You did all the work last night. It’s my turn,” you shook your head, the thing that you were implying making Joe’s heart skip a beat. Since last night was the first time you did this, you’d never been on top of him before and the thought of that happening was making him lose all coolness.

“Just take it easy. I don’t want you to hurt yourself and if it's too much we can always stop,” he softly said as he stroked your thigh, just body humming with anticipation just like yours.

“I love you,” you said as you leaned down to peck his lips before moving back up.

“I love you too,” he smiled as he put his arms behind his head and laid back, his bulging biceps even more prominent this way. He looked so good right now with his messy bedhead, swollen lips, that little purple love bite you left on his neck last night, and his sweet bedroom eyes. It was all making you even more needy for him than you’d ever felt before.

You grabbed his growing erection and guided the tip between your drenched folds before slipping it inside, a loud moan leaving your lips at the sudden fullness you were feeling. “Oh, fuck,” you whined as you threw your head back, still not fully used to his size.

Joe looked up at you and watched as you slid down his length and got comfortably seated. He was trying not to lose his cool but he really really wanted to flip you over and fuck you senseless because of how sexy you looked above him right now, but he knew you wanted to do this so he was letting you do your thing. You rested your palms on his chest as you slowly started to slide up and down his length, each movement sending electric jolts throughout your body as you could feel every single inch of him right now. “Joe,” you moaned as you picked up the pace, your manicured nails digging into his chest.

You leaned down and gently bit his thick bicep, a throaty moan leaving his lips after you pressed a kiss to the little bite mark you left. “Y/N,” he panted.

Joe felt himself getting lost in your touch, his brain getting all foggy as sounds of pleasure started leaving his lips. “Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned as he moved his arms from under his head and gripped your waist. Sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room as you quickened your pace, Joe’s eyes stuck on your perfect breasts that were bouncing in front of him with movement. You felt and looked heavenly on top of him, a feeling he’d never felt before with anyone else filling his mind and body.

“Baby, please you feel so good,” Joe whimpered as he dug his head further back into the pillow. “You’re doing so fucking good,”. Joe was having the absolute time of his life watching you bounce on his cock as sounds of pleasure were leaving your lips like a prayer. The thought of you sharing this intimate experience with him was enough to make him let go right then and there, but the fact that it wasn’t a thought and was actually happening right now was what he couldn’t believe.

“You like that?” you smirked as you turned his head back to look up at you, the heat in your stomach rising as his hands wandered along your body. You felt him give your breast a gentle squeeze at the same time as you felt him hit a spot inside you he hadn’t before.

“O- oh my god,” you whimpered as you fell forward onto him, his hands holding you tightly as he pushed your lips against his in a messy kiss.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” Joe mumbled between the kiss, your moans coming out in short gasps as you felt him buck his hips into yours.

Every word that came from his mouth set your heart on fire. Every time he touched you, you felt electricity run through your veins. Every time he looked at you with those eyes filled with love and passion, you felt like his soul was hugging yours.

Every time you looked at him with the same love and passion, he felt his heart explode. Every time you touched him, he felt like he was in heaven. Every time his name left your lips, he fell more in love with you.

“Ah, fuck. Joe, you’re s- you’re so..” you whimpered before you went back to the kiss as you rode him into oblivion.

You pulled away and sat up again, this time moving back and forth even faster as he thrusts up into you. “Mmph, Joey,” you whimpered as you placed your hands on his, which were gripping your waist. This felt better than either of you could’ve ever imagined, both of you also mentally cursed yourselves out for missing out on this for so long.

“I’m close,” Joe groaned, feeling himself hurdle towards his pleasure; the feeling of your warm cushiony walls wrapped around him was the greatest thing he’d ever felt.

You nodded, placed your palms back on his chest, and bounced back against him even harder even though your legs started to get tired. Joe started to press kisses along your hands and your arms as you continued to ride him, “You’re doing so good, baby,” he praised, which sent you closer to your orgasm as the band in your belly was tightening.

“Joe,” you whimpered, your legs starting to burn as you slowed down.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he said as he gripped your hips and guided you along his thick shaft, taking the weight off of you and giving you some rest. He then moved his hands under your thighs and started snapping his hips up into your soaked core, both of you just moments away from fully letting go. One particular hard thrust stroked your G-spot and had you screaming once again.

“Mm..Joe, I’m gonna.. cum,” you moaned as your chest heaved from the intense pleasure you were feeling in your body.

“Fuck, me too,” he whimpered as he snapped his hips up into yours again, this time your release washing over you.

“Joe,” you screamed as you felt the band in your belly snap and your walls tighten around him, your body falling forward onto him again. He drapes his arm around your back and pulls you closer as you moan into his ear, the aftermath of your release hitting you like a brick wall.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Joe rasped as he felt you move your face to his face, your lips crashing down on him as he released inside of you, the kiss being interrupted by his moans which came out in sharp breaths.

A few minutes later, he was holding you so incredibly close to him as both of you spent a few moments catching your breaths and coming down from your intense highs. The only sounds in the room are your steady breaths; the quietness and his warm body are incredibly comforting. You were laying your head against his chest, feeling his hand play with the strands of your hair while you lightly scratched his chest before you heard him speak up.

“You are a dream that I never want to wake up from,”.

End of flashback

Then it got worse (was it really a bad thing though?) after the first time you went down on him after you had one too many glasses of wine at lunch with your friends and he looked like a walking greek god when he came over to your place after practice.

Flashback to a few weeks ago

“You look prettyyy,” you giggled as you stared at Joe who was trying to eat the post-practice salad you made him but couldn’t focus on because of how intensely you were staring at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and taking a slow bite of the salad.

“I’m greattttt,” you slurred as you leaned back in your chair.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded. “What’s my middle name?” he quizzed you.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “I said I’m great, Joseph Lee Burrow. I just had a few glasses of wine earlier at lunch with the girls so I’m a little tipsy,”.

“How many is a few…,” he bit his lip as he watched you struggle to remember.

“Uhh, no comment,” you grinned at him as you got up from your chair. “But I’m 100% sober when I say you look absolutely amazing right now,” you smiled when you walked over to him, pulled his chair out a bit, and then sat down in his lap and pressed your crotch against his. His big hands instinctively settled on your ass as you looped your arms around his neck.

“I’m really sweaty right now,” he nervously cleared his throat.

“I don’t care,” you said as you pressed delicate kisses along his face. “You look, feel, and taste amazing,” you mumbled as you moved down to his neck, licking a stripe along his jawline and tasting the salty sweat on his skin.

“What’s gotten into you,” he chuckled as he moved your head back into his view.

“Ask the media admin who posted quite a few pictures and videos of you from practice today,” you giggled. “You looked hot,”.

“Looked? Damn, am I not hot right now?” he playfully pouted.

“You know you are,” you said, sending him a heated look. “I’ve dreamed about you in this cut-off white shirt quite a few times over the years,” you winked as you traced his chest through the loose shirt that barely covered his chiseled body.

“Jesus, you are drunk as hell,” Joe laughed while throwing his head back.

“Shut up,” you smiled while grabbing his head and pressing your lips against his, the kiss quickly becoming more heated as he began to rock your hips back and forth against his growing erection.

“Mmph,” you moaned into the kiss as he was grinding you against him, the hardness underneath you sending shivers down your spine.

“I think we should take this to the bedroom,” he mumbled as he started placing open-mouthed kisses along your jawline.

You let out a heavy sigh, “I’d love to but I got my period this morning,”.

“That’s great,” he grinned as he moved his head back up to yours.

“What…” you asked, as you tilted your head out of confusion.

“I mean, that sucks because of cramps and all that annoying period stuff. But that’s great because it means there’s no bun in the oven,” he softly laughed. “Yet, at least,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

“That is true,” you nodded as you fell forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, his arms wrapping around you in a warm hug. You stuffed your neck into his neck, smelling his natural pheromones from his sweat which combined with the hardness you felt under you was adding to the tension you were feeling right now.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good,” you whispered in his ear, Joe’s heart stopped when he realized what you were saying.

“I….,” he trailed off, his heart beat picking up again and his palms getting sweaty.

You pulled away from the hug and met his eyes, flashing him a sweet smile before speaking up. “I’m serious, Joe. Let me make you feel good,” you said as you traced his arm all the way up to his face.

His silence started to worry you and you felt yourself getting nervous again, just like how you did when it was the first time you two did anything intimate. “Unless you don’t want to,” you quickly said as you started getting off his lap, but his big hands wrapped around you and pulled you back down.

"It’s not that I don’t want to. God, I want to,” he laughed. “It’s just…I don’t want you to do something if you’re not comfortable with it and won’t enjoy it yourself,” he said as he cupped your cheek and rubbed his thumb against your skin.

You grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of his hand, “I want to,” you nodded. “I really want to,” you mumbled as you leaned forward again and crashed your lips against his.

After a few minutes of teasing him with your kisses and your touch, you slid off of him and got on your knees in front of his chair. You used your hands and spread his legs open before you looked back up at him, his eyes darkened with lust as he bit his lip.

You smirked at him as you leaned forward to pull his shorts and boxers, after which his impressive erection sprang free. You ran your manicured hands along his thick, muscular thighs as you slowly leaned down and wrapped your lips around his shaft.

Joe closed his eyes as he felt you take him deeper and deeper with each bob of your head, “Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered. You moved your lips back to the tip, pulling them off with an audible pop as you licked a stripe across his red tip, tasting the bit of pre-cum that was pooling.

He let out another low moan once you wrapped your lips around him again and slowly moved down his cock. You started bobbing your head up and down, more sounds of pleasure leaving Joe’s lips as you used your hand to give him a few pumps while you worked your way down.

“Mm, Y/N,” he whimpered as you felt his hands in your hair, your eyes navigating up to his eyes which once again were telling you what he was thinking without him actually saying it. You squeezed his thigh in response as you went back to what you were doing, Joe’s hands gently pushing you down further as you moaned against him.

A few minutes later, you moved off his cock and kept eye contact with him while you jerked him off with your hand as you used your other one to wipe the saliva around your lips, a smirk on your lips as you saw his blissful facial expression; the way he was biting his lips, his tired eyes filled with lust and love, and the way his hand was lovingly rubbing your head. You moved back down after a few seconds, teasing the slit with your tongue and licking a stripe down the side before you took him in your mouth again.

“F-Fuck,” he moaned once he felt the tip hit the back of your throat. He looked down at you with his tired eyes and couldn’t believe that this was really happening. He physically could not get enough of you; not now, not ever. Joe began bucking his hips up a few moments later, the feeling in his belly getting stronger as you got sloppy with your movements. His hand started pushing you down harder, your moans and whimpers being muffled because you had him in your mouth. Tears started coming down your cheeks as he started to thrust into your mouth and when you looked up at him, you knew he was close.

“God damn..you’re so fucking good at this,” he moaned as you massaged his balls using your free hand, Joe just mere moments away from reaching his high.

A few more heated moments later, you felt ropes of warm cum shoot down your throat. “Y/N…” he moaned while throwing his head back. It really couldn’t get better than this for Joe. He was already obsessed with you as a person, but now he was obsessed with you physically.

You continued to bob up and down his shaft, making sure to milk every last drop of his orgasm before you released him from your mouth, then swallowing his sweet release as you looked into his heavy eyes.

“You are insane,” he panted as his chest heaved, a thin coating of sweat on both of your skins because of your actions.

“I know,” you cockily grinned as you wiped his release off your lips with the back of your fingers before licking them clean.

End of flashback

After that, it was the two of you going at it in the backseat of his Porsche after a post-practice dinner with some of the guys and their significant others. That compression shirt he had on was sending you into overdrive and the way you were teasing each other the entire time was making it worse.

Flashback to the night out with your friends

You were in dire need of a cold shower right now.

You were trying so hard to keep yourself together as you were currently at dinner with Joe and a few of his friends from the team (who at this point were also your friends). But the man sitting next to you was making it incredibly difficult for you to act normal.

First, it was the fact that he picked you up after practice and he was just in his skin-tight compression shirt and his workout shorts, which he was still wearing at dinner. He knew this combination always made you feel certain feelings and normally he would change out of these clothes after practice was over, but he was doing this on purpose because he knew you were going to see it. The top highlighted his delicious biceps and hugged his body so tightly that his chiseled figure was on full display; he was mouthwatering and he knew it too.

Then, it was the fact that ever since you sat down at the table with your friends for dinner, he’d been sneakily teasing you with little touches and glances that he knew drove you wild. Nobody in the room knew you were dating so it should make sense as to why you were struggling to keep it together.

You felt his hand creep up to your thigh, his big hand seductively massaging the skin as you took a bite of your meal while intensely staring at him.

“So, Y/N. How does it feel being Joe’s honorary girlfriend,” Jermaine teased as he took a sip of his water.

You flipped your head from Joe to him as you felt your heart stop in your chest. “What?” you deadpanned.

“Burrow over here can’t seem to keep a girl around to save his life,” Tee laughed as he watched Joe roll his eyes.

“Correction, he can’t keep a girl other than Y/N around,” Ja’marr nodded. “She been with him since day 1. Why? I have no fucking idea but he’s managed to keep her around somehow,”.

“It must be because of…,” Tee teased as he pointed down to his crotch, your eyes widening and cheeks turning red at the embarrassing situation you were in right now.

“You guys are children,” Joe shook his head as he moved his hand to cup your mound through your skirt, your eyes widening again as you flipped your head over to him. Now was not the time to be doing this, not in front of everyone.

You grabbed his forearm and scooched his hand back over to his lap before speaking up, “Maybe the reason he can’t keep a girl around is because of his bad timing,” you said while shooting daggers at him with your eyes and emphasizing the ‘bad timing’ part.

“Um, ouch?” Joe raised an eyebrow and bumped your leg with his.

“Damnnn, even she sees it,” Jermaine laughed. “But Y/N, you gotta admit. You kinda are the honorary girlfriend at this point. They need to add you to the WAG’s list or something,”.

“She knows she just won’t admit it,” Ja’marr pointed out. “Must be an ego thing,”.

“Ouch?” you said, acting like you were offended by that. You then felt Joe’s foot bump into yours, but not by accident. You looked over at him and saw the smug grin on his face as he continued to rub his foot, then his leg against yours underneath the table in a way that sent shivers throughout your body.

“He wants to play? Let’s play,” you thought to yourself.

You cleared your throat before turning back over to face the guys, “You know, maybe Joe can’t keep a girl around because he’s bad in bed?” you boldly said as you moved your hand to his lap, gently grabbing his cock through his shorts which made him jerk up in his seat.

“No way,” Tee said before he fell into a fit of laughter.

“I’m serious,” you shrugged as you gave Joe a squeeze through his shorts, hearing him softly groan next to you. “Sex is very important to girls. The whole intimacy and love aspect of it is very important for relationship development,” you nodded. “Maybe Joe just sucks at it,” you smirked as you looked over at him, his cheeks flushed as he was biting his lip.

Oh, he definitely didn’t suck. If he got any better at it you would probably have a stroke.

“Damn, you really gonna let your girl do you like that?” Ja’marr said to Joe.

“She can do whatever she wants,” Joe said, giving you a heated look as he stared intensely at your eyes and then your plump pink lips that were covered with peach lip gloss.

“Whatever I want, huh?” you wiggled your eyebrows at him as you let go of his dick and slid your hand along his thick muscular thigh. “Okay, then I think the guys would just love to hear about how you almost threw up on one of your hookups back at Ohio State and how you had to text me to come save your ass while I was in the middle of a date. When I showed up she thought I was his girlfriend and he was cheating on me,” you giggled. “It was a whole improv routine, I swear,”.

“But you still came anyway,” Joe said, staring deeply into your eyes. “You always showed up whenever I needed you,” he said a little quieter, but his words were incredibly loud and clear. You always showed up for him in every shape and form possible, and now that you were together, that would never change.

“Y/N, we coulda used you down at LSU for real,” Ja’marr nodded. “You’re the only one that can keep Shiesty over here from completely embarrassing himself and the only one that can keep him in check,”.

“Ohhh, I know,” you grinned. “I do a really good job at keeping him in check,” you winked at the guys as you gave Joe’s thigh a loving squeeze.

An hour later

After the dinner, you both got into Joe’s sleek black porche and were on your way back to his house, the tension in the car growing as you two sat in silence and had not mentioned a word about the shenanigans at dinner. The only sounds in the car were the song playing on the aux–Kiss It Better by Rhianna–and the sounds of the car moving.

You glanced over at him, taking in his muscular and hypnotizing body. The way his jaw was clenching as he focused on the road, the way his veiny hands that you loved to feel on your body gripped the steering wheel, the way the tight compression shirt fit him like another skin, the way his thick muscular thighs were spread open, and the way his plump bottom lip was in between his teeth. You needed him so badly and the teasing at dinner made it worse.

Joe felt your eyes on him so he turned over to look at you, but you quickly turned your head away and continued to look out your window, praying he didn’t notice you looking at him but you were too late. He slowly swallowed as he stared at your perfect body. The way your delicate eyelashes were fluttering as you stared out at the road, your glossy pink lips that he wanted to feel against his so badly right now, the way your cropped sweater was hugging your perfect hips and breasts, the way your freshly manicured hands that he loved to feel in his hair and along his back were gripping your phone. You looked incredible and he felt a visceral ache inside of him because of how badly he needed you right now.

“Just take it on back, boy, take it on back, boy. Take it back all night. Just take it on back, take it on back. Mmm, do what you gotta do, keep me up all night,” you mumbled as you bobbed your head to the song, slowly turning your head over to look at Joe, finally your eyes meeting his heated gaze.

“You’re staring,” you whispered as you felt your heart rate ramp up and your stomach do a backflip.

“I know,” he breathed out as he flipped his head back to the road, the sign for the nearest exit getting closer as he switched lanes to get to the exit lane. You were confused as to why he was going this way since this wasn’t the way back home, but you didn’t say anything because your brain was slowly being clouded by lust and desire.

You watched as he sped slightly, his grip on the steering wheel becoming tighter which made more of the veins along his muscular arm pop. Your eyes then fell down to his lap, the tent in his shorts incredibly prominent which made you smile knowing the effect you had on him.

He quickly pulled into the most empty parking lot possible, your mind finally realizing why he was doing this and a gush of wetness pooling your core at the thought of it. He quickly put the car in park and turned it off before looking over at you, “Backseat?” he breathlessly asked, his voice thick with infatuation.

“Absolutely,” you grinned as you quickly got out of the passenger side and slipped into the spacious backseat of his Porsche, Joe following you.

“Thank god for tinted windows,” you giggled as Joe pulled you onto his lap, his big hands settling on either side of your hips as he smashed his lips against yours.

“I need you so bad,” he said as he pressed kisses along your cheeks and jawline.

“I’m right here,” you whispered as you leaned back to look at him, his hands instantly pulling you back forward as he smashed his lips against yours again, this time his tongue invading your mouth as he started to peel off your top.

You flung it to the side before pulling your skirt off, then returning to the kiss while you felt his hands wander along your back before unclasping your bra. You let the straps fall as he slipped it off for you, you leaned back again as Joe peppered kisses along your collarbone down to your breasts, lightly nipping and sucking on them before kissing his way back up to your lips. You began to grind down on his crotch which made him moan into the kiss, his fingers slowly peeling your lace panties off. You quickly moved to the side to get them off faster before coming back into his lap.

“Leave this on,” you mumbled, pointing to his tight compression shirt.

“Whatever you want,” he said, getting lost in your beautiful eyes.

“I want these off though,” you giggled, pointing down at his shorts and boxers.

“Oh, right,” he said, snapping out of his daze. He picked himself up and pulled both down at once, his erection springing free as you quickly gave him a few pumps before lining him up with your already wet core.

You smashed your lips against him as you slowly slid down his thick shaft, the feeling of him inside of you was something that you could never get tired of. “Joe,” you moaned against his lips, the way he was stretching you out was sending you right to the edge.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whimpered as you started moving against him, his hands landing on your hips as he started to help you move.

You put on of your hands in his dirty blonde curls, softly pulling at the strands as you picked up your pace. You moved your lips down to his neck where you spent a few moments sucking on his soft skin which was sure to leave a pretty purple mark

“You feel so good,” he breathed out as his head fell back. You continued to move up and down him, the car filling with breathy moans and skin slapping which made you both even more desperate for more.

Joe wrapped his arms around your torso and started snapping his hips up into you, the sudden change of pace causing you to topple over and your hand to slide against the car window. “F- Fuck, oh my god,” you whined as you leaned on him, the new angle causing him to reach new spots inside of you.

“You like that?” he whispered in your ear.

“Mmhm,” you breathlessly nodded as he continued to rapidly thrust into your slick core.

A few moments later, you leaned back again and placed both hands on either side of his shoulders as you started to rock your hips back and forth. This new movement made Joe lose it.

“Fuck, I can’t..That’s it...That’s my girl,” he whimpered as he gripped your waist tightly, his brain fully fogged and the heat in his belly getting stronger.

The words that were coming from his mouth and the tension in your belly increasing made you lose it. “Joe, I’m so close,” you moaned as you felt your walls slowly tighten around his cock.

He moved a hand down to where you two were connected, the mere sight of that drove him crazy let alone the feeling of being connected. He started rubbing circles around your sensitive clit, giving it a few rubs and then a gentle pinch which sent you right to the edge. “Oh my god,” you screamed, your high hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“I’m close,” he groaned as he began snapping his hips up into you again, your walls squeezing him in the best way possible as the wetness below you increased.

“J-Joe,” you whimpered as you leaned back, your high still washing over you as he continued to push deeper inside of you.

“I’m about to cum,” he moaned as he ran his veiny hands along the sides of your thighs.

“S- Shit..pull out,” you panted as you looked down at him.

“Why?” he breathed out as he met your tired eyes.

“J-Joe, fuck…cum on my stomach,” you moaned as you placed your hand on his chest.

Joe stared at you in awe for a few seconds. He had never seen you like this before, but he loved it. He loved this side of you and he loved you. He nodded as he stopped his movements and easily slipped out of you, the loss of contact making you squirm in his lap, “Shit,” you whimpered as you felt your release seeping onto him.

He gave himself a few pumps as he watched you catch your breath, your gorgeous body glistening because of the light coming into the car from the street lights. A few seconds later thick ropes of cum spilled out onto your belly, the sight making you feel euphoric. “Y/N,” he moaned as his head fell back again.

You looked back up at him and grabbed his head so that he was looking at you, “Look at me,” you panted as you felt him release more ropes of his pearly cum onto you while the rest was dripping down your belly.

“You are amazing,” you grinned as you pulled his head forward and captured his lips in a heated kiss as he fell back into the seat with you closely pressed against him, your lips moving against each other in a sensual tango.

After a few minutes of catching your breaths and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, you spoke up. “Sooo, are we going to talk about earlier?”.

“I think we just did,” he smiled at you, referring to what just transpired in the backseat of his car.

End of flashback

Then it was your best friend Lydia (the only one who knew about you two since she picked you up from his house the morning after the christmas party) catching on to what you two were up to which resulted in you fawning over how amazing it was to her.

Flashback to the phone call

“Sooo, how is it,” she asked through the phone, you could practically feel the smirk on her face. “And I’m asking because this time I know for sure you’ve had sex with him,”.

“How can you be so sure?” you giggled as you fell back against your soft sheets.

“Nobody, and I mean Nobody is going to believe the lame-ass excuse you gave me about building Ikea furniture at Joe’s house as to why you couldn’t Facetime me earlier. You wouldn’t be caught dead within 5 feet of a hammer and an instruction manual. You weren’t building a bed, you were probably breaking it,” she teased.

“Lydia!” you screamed as your jaw dropped, you couldn’t help but laugh at the silliness of it all. You both were truly making up for lost time with how your relationship was developing, doing everything you wish you could’ve done with each other in college.

“Soo,” she said, expecting more from you.

“Fine,” you laughed. “It’s really really really good,”.

“Like how good?” she asked.

“Hmmm, as good as a bottle of cold water at 3 in the morning,” you smiled.

“Damnnn, okay Joe,” Lydia laughed.

“He’s so comforting and gentle with everything. He talks me through it all, says the sweetest things to me, looks at me like I'm the rarest diamond in the world, and showers me with all the love in the world. He always ensures I’m fine and wants to do it as much as he does. It’s just so perfect,” you said as you flipped over onto your stomach and started moving your feet back and forth like a child.

“Aww,” she cooed.

“But he’s also very good at everything he does, never makes me feel unsatisfied or unappreciated...There's a side to him that is less lover and more motivated by raw desire. I think if he got even better at it, I would have a stroke,” you blushed. “Just know I have a bottle of Advil on standby because…Damn,” you giggled.

“I love this for you. He sounds like everything you needed in your life,” she said.

“I’m really happy, Lydia. Like I don’t know what I did to deserve him, but I can’t get enough,” you said as you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Lovergirl finally got her Loverboy. All is right in the world,” she smiled through the phone. “You two are tooth rottingly adorable and sweet,”.

“Adorable, sweet, desperate, horny. We’re a mix of a lot of things,” you laughed as you stuffed your face into the pillow.

End of flashback

“Good god, someone please spray us with anti-horny spray,” you laughed as you felt yourself getting worked up.

You took everything off and put it back in its spots before you put your clothes back on and turned the closet light off. You walked into the bathroom to do your nightly routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face before getting comfy in his bed.

You pulled up his contact and looked over at the time, “He’s probably still awake,” you said as you clicked on the photos you took earlier and sent them to him. “Hopefully he’s alone,” you laughed when you realized how embarrassed he’d be if he opened these photos around others.

You turned the TV and put on a movie as you set your phone to the side, a few moments later the screen lit up with texts from Joe.

Joe: holy fuck

Joe: holy fuckkkkkkk baby

Joe: you look so sexy what the fuck.

Joe: you doing this to me knowing i’m a good 30 minutes away and can’t leave is criminal.

You: doing what?

Joe: Y/N.

You: fineeee. i just wanted to show my appreciation and since you’re not here this was my best option.. 🤷‍♀️

Joe: that necklace looks even better on you than it does me. and that hat too. god, you’re so pretty

You: thank youuu but that necklace was about to break my neck. don’t know how you do it

Joe: i’m glad you put it on though. you look hot as fuckkkk. i’m struggling to keep it together right now

You: settle down QB. you have a game tomorrow, save that energy for the field

Joe: just wait until after the game. im getting my appreciation in person too, i’m making sure of it

You: only if you win for me

Joe: you got it gorgeous

You: you should probably go to sleep now, you need to get your full beauty sleep

Joe: you’re probably right

Joe: i miss you

You: miss you too, J

Joe: i’ll see you in the morning. i love you and thanks for that treat :)

You: i love you more and of course. just don’t have too many scandalous dreams or you’re going to wake up frazzled

Joe: no promises.. i have hot ass girlfriend so my brain has a mind of its own

You: night joey

Joe: night sexy ;)

You smile as you put your phone on the nightstand and turn the TV off before turning the lights off. You got comfy under the covers and laid your head against his pillows, his natural scent lingering on them making you smile as you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

The next morning

You felt a pair of soft lips press delicate kisses along your face, your eyes slowly fluttering open as you saw Joe sitting on the bed next to you with a huge smile on his face. “Morning, sunshine,” he smiled as he moved your hair out of your eyes before kissing your lips.

You quickly scooched up and pulled him in for a hug, “Mmm, morning. I missed you,” you said as you pressed lazy kisses along his neck.

“How did it feel being the lady of the house while I was gone,” he laughed before kissing your cheek and pulling away from the hug.

“Good,” you yawned as you stretched your arms out. “I think I’ll do just fine here,” you smiled.

“Amazing,” he smiled before leaning forward and pressing two sweet kisses to your forehead, a soft laugh coming from your lips because of his sweet actions, and also because you remembered the first time he kissed your forehead. Forehead kisses were one of your favorites, so sweet and intimate.

“Why are you laughing,” he said while raising an eyebrow.

“That forehead kiss,” you smiled.

“What about it?” he questioned.

“Reminds me of the first time you kissed my forehead. Remember? Back at my apartment when you showed up with a bunch of goodies to cheer me up after the shitty day I had,”.

“Of course, I remember,” he nodded as he laced his fingers with yours and played with the ring on your left hand. “That was also the first time you kissed my neck,”.

Joe loved it when you kissed his neck, it felt so comforting and sweet; just like you.

“I never did ask you why you kissed my forehead, Did I?” you asked him.

“Nope,” he shook his head.

“Well, why did you? You never kissed my forehead, even when I had breakdowns worse than that,” you wondered.

“I kind of had a feeling that you were crying for another reason. A reason you couldn’t tell me about. You were crying because of our relationship, weren’t you?” he asked as he looked up.

You nodded, “Yeah..I was getting in my head about the whole thing and the possibility of screwing everything up and losing you,” you sighed, dropping your head.

“But you didn’t,” he said as he moved your head back up. “You didn’t lose me and you won’t lose me,” he smiled. “I kissed your forehead because I actually wanted to kiss your lips, but I couldn’t. I kissed your forehead also because I knew what forehead kisses meant to you and I guess that was my way of showing my love without actually saying it,”.

“Well, I definitely felt loved in that moment,” you grinned as you leaned forward to kiss him.

“Wait, but why did you kiss my neck? You’d never done that before either,” he asked.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I think my body knew how much I needed you before my mind did,” you giggled. “It felt right for some reason,”.

“I like that,” he smiled. “It feels right,”.

“Mhmmm,” you giggled as you leaned forward to kiss his neck again.

“You should go get ready. I’ll grab us breakfast on the way to the stadium,” he smiled.

“So early? The game isn’t until 4:25,” you said while rubbing your eyes.

“Yeah, I know. But since it’s the first playoff game, they want us there early. My parents are going to be there to keep you company too so you won’t get bored. You can explore the stadium if you want as well,” he said as he got up from the bed. “But I think you’d get bored of that since you’ve been coming to every home game for the past few years,”.

“Yeahhh,” you smiled as you got up. “It’s good though. I love catching up with Jimmy and Robin so I’ll be fine,”.

“They do love you a lot,” he smiled as he pulled you in for another hug, your chin resting against his chest as you looked up at him.

“Good thing I love them and their golden baby a lot too,” you smiled before pressing a big, passion-filled kiss to his lips and quickly pulling away from him.

“Teaseeee,” he laughed and shook his head as you walked into the bathroom with a smirk on your face.

A little while later, you walked downstairs after getting ready and saw Joe facing the kitchen as he was seated on the barstool and scrolling on his phone. He heard your footsteps behind him so he turned around, his jaw on the floor once he saw you.

You were wearing baggy black leather cargo pants, a tight skin-fit orange crop top, a ‘Burrow’-themed bomber jacket, and his smaller ‘9’ necklace. Your shoes were orange and black, a little ‘9’ carved in on the sides.

“Y/N…” he said as he got up, watching you do a little twirl as you walked over to him.

“You like?” you smiled.

“I love,” he said as he took in your outfit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiled as he touched the smaller iced-out ‘9’ chain around your neck.

“I hope it’s not too much. I wanted to make my first official appearance as Joe Burrow’s girlfriend a good one,” you said as you bit your lip.

“It’s perfect. You look absolutely stunning,” he said, sealing his words with a kiss. “I’ve dreamed of this, seeing you wearing my number as my girlfriend and not just my best friend,”.

“I’m glad I could make it come true,” you giggled. “Oh wait! I almost forgot something,” you froze.

“What? I don’t see how you could make this better than it already is,” he laughed as he admired your sick jacket.

You winked at him as you pulled up your pants, showing your socks off to him. “One sock inside out,”.

Joe’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the inside-out sock. He had been wearing one of his socks inside out since his early college days, a pre-game ritual that had become a tradition for him every time he stepped out on the field. The fact that you were partaking in this with him made his heart flutter, the fact that you remembered made his heart flutter.

“Y- You remembered,” he mumbled as he looked up at you with his soft eyes.

“Of course, I remembered,” you said while gently punching his shoulder. “This is one thing that makes you, you. You’re still the same guy you were all those years ago and the fact that you still do these things is adorable,” you grinned, your hand going into your pocket as you reached for something.

“Aaandd, almost forgot this too,” you said as you handed him a Caramel Apple sucker which was a part of another pre-game ritual of his.

Joe laughed as he took the sucker from your hand, “You’re incredible, you know that?” Joe smiled.

“No, you’re incredible,” you giggled while you kissed his smooth cheek. He meant the world to you, so doing these things for him was a given. You wanted to make today as special as possible for the two of you.

A few hours later

“Are you excited, sweetie?” Robin eagerly asked as she patted your leg.

“Very excited. I can’t wait to see him out there,” you smiled at his parents as you all were sitting inside the Burrow suite.

“Gosh, I still can't believe you two finally got together. We always knew Joe liked you but I thought he wouldn’t ever tell you since it had been so long,” Jimmy laughed.

“Joey always had a knack for taking his time with things. He always made sure it was the right time to do something, he was never one to rush things. And given how much he cares about you, him taking so long to tell you how he felt made sense,” Robin smiled. “He really cares about you. Just the way he looks at you says everything and more,”.

“The way he was looking at you the night you both told us just gave it away,” Jimmy smiled.

Flashback to when You and Joe told his parents about you two (a couple days after your sister’s wedding)

“And then she just fell right into the waiter and got tequila all over her dress,” Joe laughed as he finished telling his parents about your 21st birthday mishap.

“We’ve all been a little clumsy when we’re drunk, Joe,” you giggled as you absentmindedly placed your hand on top of his.

Robin’s eyes darted down to both of your hands, she looked at Jimmy through the corner of her eye, a smile on both their faces as they stayed silent.

“Don’t even get me started on the time I had to nurse you back from the massive hangover you got after Lydia’s birthday,” you giggled as you looked at him like you were the only two in the room. “It was brutal,” you smiled as you moved your hand off of his and rubbed his shoulder with your hand.

Joe’s parents had noticed your behaviors as soon as you both walked through the door. Ever since you got here, you both had been extra giggly and touchy with each other. Whether it was the accidental (but not so accidental) touches when you were putting food on your plates, the little glances at each other that you two had thought you were doing a good job at hiding, or the way you were laughing extra hard at everything Joe said. You were even laughing at things that weren’t even that funny.

They also noticed the way Joe was looking at you the entire time. His eyes were so clearly filled with love and infatuation, a look in his eyes that they had never seen in him before until now. He did a bad job of hiding it because he was so damn in love with you that it was literally oozing out of him and everyone could see.

“And that is why I don’t drink that much anymore,” Joe smiled as he placed his arm around the back of your chair, his hand just inches from your shoulder. “Take a page out of my book,”.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” you said as you pushed away your wine glass. “I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick,” you said to everyone as you got up from your chair, your hand squeezing Joe’s shoulder as you walked behind him to get to the hallway where the bathroom was.

Joe watched as you walked away, his eyes filled with adoration as his face had the biggest smile on it. He turned back to look at his parents, both of them staring at him like he had something to tell them.

“What?” Joe laughed as he leaned forward to grab his water glass.

“Nothing,” Jimmy shook his head and looked over at Robin who had a skeptical look on her face.

“Okayyyy,” Joe said, a little suspicious of his parents' behavior but decided not to think much about it. “I’m gonna go grab something from my old room, I'll be back,” Joe lied as he got up from his seat.

He didn’t need to grab something from his old room, but he did need to see you alone and this was the best chance he had all night to do so.

Joe walked over to the bathroom you were in and softly knocked on the door. “Just a minute,” you said as you were fixing your hair in the mirror.

Joe rolled his eyes and knocked harder this time, “It’s me,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and unlocked the door for him before going back to fixing your hair in the mirror, “Jeez, if you had to go so bad why didn’t you go to the other bathroom,”.

Joe quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind him, locking the door and then turning back to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. You looked down at him through the mirror, noticing his almost tired-looking face. “You okay, J?” you softly asked him as you moved your hand to his hair, ruffling the curls a little. His sudden need to be attached to you was slightly worrying.

“I’m great. I just miss being close to you,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“We’ve only been here for a couple of hours,” you giggled as you turned around in his hold, your body now facing him.

“I know, it’s just annoying not being able to touch you like how I should be touching you in front of everyone,” he sighed as he ran his hands up and down your arms.

“I know,” you nodded, feeling bad that you were being secretive about your relationship even though this was something you both decided you wanted to do for a bit even though that was coming to a close. Your family already found out (on accident obviously) and Joe’s family did not; hiding it from them was becoming difficult.

“But, this will do for now,” Joe smiled as he lifted your face to his, capturing your sweet lips in a gentle kiss. You instantly melted into his touch like you were a piece of gourmet chocolate on his tongue, your arms looped around his neck as you felt him lift you up onto the bathroom counter. You spread your legs open to accommodate his large body as you wrapped them around him, your fingers threading through his dirty blonde curls as his tongue invades your mouth and you two get lost in each other’s touch.

You spent a few minutes making out in the bathroom before you had to stop so that his parents didn’t get suspicious, even though they already were. You quickly fixed yourselves in the mirror before Joe opened the door for you to leave the bathroom, then followed you out. You both turned to walk back to the dining room but froze in your tracks as you saw both of his parents standing at the end of the hallway with their jaws on the floor.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Joe whispered to you.

“What the hell is it with us and getting caught leaving a room together after doing something scandalous,” you whispered back, this was the same way your sister found out about you and Joe. The Universe was really messing with you at this point.

“I promise this isn’t what it looks like,” Joe said louder to his parents as they walked closer to you.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Joe, just uh…needed to talk to me about something,” you lied.

“About what?” Robin raised an eyebrow and looked at you both.

“Uhhh, umm,” Joe mumbled as he struggled to come up with an excuse.

“About a girl,” you chimed in, all 3 of their heads flipping over to you.

“A girl?” Jimmy gasped.

“A girl?” Joe whispered under his breath. You really couldn’t come up with another excuse? Now he had to lie about having some random girl in his life when the only girl in his life was you.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and said. “He needed some advice,” you reassuringly nodded.

“Advice,” Robin said. “Joe needed advice about a girl from you? In the bathroom? Right now while you’re at dinner with us?” she asked, still not quite believing you.

“Uhh, yeah,” Joe nodded. “I needed to talk to her alone and this was the best way. I didn’t want to tell you guys anything yet,”.

“Looks like we were caught though,” you nervously fake-laughed as you grabbed onto his bicep, your heated touch sending visible shivers down his spine.

“We really need to do better at hiding things,” Joe nervously laughed as he looked down at you, his arm moving up and wrapping around your shoulder.

“I know right? We’re too old to be doing this sneaking around and getting caught thing,” you fake laughed again as you and Joe continued to have an improvised conversation to hopefully get his parents off your scent.

You continued to go back and forth with the unbelievable lie, Robin and Jimmy both staring at each other with a growing smile on their faces. They knew something was up and you two were really bad liars.

“Would you two just get together already!?” Robin loudly said as she looked at you guys. Both of you froze, stopped talking, and your eyes widened.

“What?” Joe asked as he looked at his Mom.

“You heard her,” Jimmy nodded.

“I think you guys have the wrong idea,” you said. “We’re just-,”.

“Friends?” Robin interrupted. “Y/N, I’ve heard you both say that for 9 years but every time I see you both together, you look like a typical couple,”.

“Look at you two right now,” Jimmy said, pointing at your body language. Joe’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder and your body was tightly pressed next to his, both of you instantly moving away from each other once you noticed they were right.

“Ever since you both walked in, we’ve seen the constant touches and looks and heard that never-ending laughter from both of you,” Robin noted. “And I know you two have always been like that, but this is that on steroids,”.

“Robin’s right. You two are just extra happy and cheery around each other,” Jimmy stated. “Looks like a relationship glow to me,”.

“Are we not allowed to be extra happy without it being weird?” Joe defensively asked as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“You are allowed. It’s just a little too obvious now, you both clearly have a thing for each other,” Robin said, not giving up on her observations. “Joe, you literally look at her like she’s the rarest diamond in the world. I can see it in your eyes,”.

“And Y/N, we can see the way you touch him and what your touch does to him,” Jimmy added.

His parents really cracked the case open on their own; it didn’t help that you two were so bad at hiding your feelings for each other. You practically handed it to them.

Joe was beginning to feel antsy as his parents continued going on about their observations. They were talking about how it’s been clear you both have had feelings for each other for years, how they are incredibly visible now more than ever, and how you should do something about it before you miss the opportunity and regret it for the rest of your life. You were attentively listening to them, but Joe was fully zoned out and restless.

“Fuck it,” Joe thought to himself as he looked at you. “They were bound to find out at some point. Let me save them the trouble,”.

He used his hand to turn your head to face him and instantly smashed his lips against yours and kissed you hungrily in front of his parents, both of you hearing gasps and laughter from them as you leaned into the kiss. After a few heated seconds, you both pulled away from each other.

“Surprise,” he said as he looked back at his parents as you stood there speechless by his boldness.

“I knew it,” Robin shrieked as she eagerly patted Jimmy's shoulders and jumped up and down.

You looked over at Joe, your face still stunned at how everything did a full 360 within just a few seconds. “You’re insane,” you giggled as you dropped your head to his shoulder.

“Insanely in love with you,” he said as he kissed your forehead, his parents hearing and smiling even harder at you two.

“You need to tell us everything right now or I’m throwing all of your old Lego sets into the fireplace,” Robin said with a stern look on her face.

“Woah, no need to get crazy there Mom,” Joe laughed as Robin’s face quickly changed back to excited as she hugged you both.

“Finallyyyy,” she squealed. “You two are perfect for each other,”.

“I can’t believe you just did that. I thought our lie was believable,” you shook your head up at Joe.

“Believable in what dimension? That might’ve been the worst lie we’ve ever told,” Joe said as his Mom let go of you two and he pulled you into his arms.

“He’s not wrong there,” Jimmy laughed. “Next time, choose a better one,”.

“Well sorry, I'm not used to lying about dating my best friend,” you playfully scoffed.

“No need to lie anymore though,” he shrugged. “Time to openly show everyone how much I love you. I think I might buy a megaphone and shout it from the top of Paycor so everyone can hear about how I’m winning at life in the best way possible”.

“I love you” you smiled at him, your heart exploding at the thought of showing your deep love for one another to everyone.

End of flashback

“I can’t believe you guys came at us like detectives with your observations and everything,” you giggled as you sipped your water.

“You two just suck at hiding it,” she smiled. “But true love is always hard to hide so that makes sense,” Robin laughed as she looked out onto the field and noticed the team coming out for pre-game warmups. “Oh, looks like it’s warmup time,”.

You turned around and looked out on the field, seeing all the guys come out of the tunnel, then spotting Joe who was looking up at the suite.

Robin noticed the smile on your face once you found Joe on the field, she rested her hand on your back and spoke up, “Go down there and see him,” she encouraged.

“Are you sure?” you asked as you turned back to face her.

“Absolutely. They won’t mind. I’ve done it a few times myself,” she nodded.

You hesitated for a few seconds before getting up from your seat. It would be nice to see him down there before the crowds piled in and you were overwhelmed by thousands of fans.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’ll be back,” you smiled as you walked around the table to the exit door. You walked around the concourses and slowly made your way down to the field level. You walked through the tunnel and made it onto the field a few minutes later, spotting Joe on the sideline sitting on the bench staring out onto the open field.

He didn’t notice you coming over until you were just a few feet from him, his eyes widening and a smile popping up on his face as he saw you getting closer. “What’re you doing down here?”.

“I came to see you,” you grinned as you sat down next to him.

“You keep surprising me. Now you’re willingly down here in front of everyone,” he laughed as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“I mean, I'm going to be down here before the game in front of like 60,000 people. This is nothing,” you smiled as he chuckled above you. “Care to tell me why you were lost in thought just now?” you asked him about why he was staring out onto the field in silence.

“Just taking it in,” he sighed. “It helps me calm my nerves and get my head straight,”.

“Ah,” you nodded as you watched some of his teammates warm up. You couldn’t even imagine how loud the thoughts in his head were during game day but he still managed to go out there with the most calm attitude, you don’t know how he does it, but he manages to block everything out with a snap of his fingers.

“Just know that I’m proud of you regardless of the outcome. I know I said you should win for me, but I want you to know that winning or losing doesn’t matter to me at all. I just want you to have fun out there and give it your best,” you said to him as you continued to stare out onto the field, feeling his hand squeeze your shoulder as you continued to calm him with your words. “You are an amazing Football player regardless and will continue to set the league on fire for many more years to come. If you lose tonight, it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You’re still building a legacy that nobody can undo,”.

“I love you, baby,” he said to you with another kiss on your head, his heart and soul smiling because of your meaningful words. You always said the right thing at the right time.

“I love you more,” you smiled as you kissed his neck and scooted closer to him, both of you enjoying this quiet and calm moment with each other before you were interrupted.

“Ooooo, Babbyyyy,” you heard a group of voices say ahead of you. It was Ja’marr, Tee, and Jermaine.

“We gotta talk about this later, Y/N!” Tee screamed over at you.

“For real! Y'all can’t do this shit and not tell me until a whole ass month later,” Ja’marr yelled.

“I called it,” Jermaine nodded. “Honorary girlfriend is the real girlfriend,” he said while giving you a thumbs up and a cheeky grin.

“You told them?” you asked as you looked over at Joe, both of your cheeks red from slight embarrassment.

“I think they could’ve figured it out if they saw us sitting like this, but yeah, I told them earlier,” he laughed.

“I can’t wait to hear what they have to say,” you blushed as you looked back over at the 3 men, watching as they teased you both with Cupid arrows and air kisses. “Ooooo, Babyyyyy indeed,” you softly laughed, remembering the first time you called each other ‘baby’.

Start of Flashback (early days of your relationship)

You were lying down on Joe’s bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as Joe was putting a few things away in his closet. You were so zoned out and unaware of your surroundings that you didn’t even realize when Joe came out of the closet and turned off the TV before turning around and looking at you.

He didn’t say a word and you didn’t even notice, you just felt a growing weight on your body as Joe suddenly crawled up your body and laid on top of you. You lifted your arms out of the way to look at him, his head instantly finding his home on your chest as he wrapped his arms loosely around your torso.

You placed your phone to the side as you wrapped your arms around him, one hand playing with the soft strands of his hair while the other one was rubbing his back. “You okay, J?” you softly asked him as you looked down at his adorable face, the ‘out of nowhere’ cuddling a new thing for you.

“Mhm,” he cutely mumbled against your skin, dropping a kiss to your chest before holding you tighter and getting comfy on your warm chest.

You giggled at the sight of your 6’4, hunky, muscular, very manly, athletic, and strong Boyfriend melting into your body. He was already as adorable as they come but even more adorable whenever he acted like this.

“Why are you laughing?” he said while looking up at you.

“You just look so cute right now,” you smiled as you played with his hair, lightly scratching his scalp at the same time.

“Thanks, pumpkin,” he said with flirtatious eyes.

“Pumpkin?” you asked, your nose scrunching up at the cringe word.

“Yeah, muffin,” he laughed.

“Joe, what are you doing?” you giggled

“What do you mean, sweet pea?” he asked as he stuck out his tongue and laughed.

You looked at him with confusion before the lightbulb went off on your brain as to why he was calling you these weird names. Pet names, obviously.

“Oh, sorry. You’re right, honeybun,” you said, trying to hold back a laugh.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he smiled as you caught on to what he was doing, he used his hand to give your waist a loving squeeze.

You did like Princess though. That one sent butterflies around your body and made you feel warm inside.

“So how was practice, Sweetie?” you giggled as you asked him.

“Good as usual, lovebug,” he laughed against you, the pet names getting even more unserious as you both went on.

“That’s great, Studmuffin,” you giggled again.

“My god, we’re so unserious,” Joe burst out laughing into your chest.

“I know,” you giggled as you threw your head back. “But I like the pet names idea you got going on. I really like Princess,”.

“Okay, what else do we have then, Princess,” he asked while lovingly gazing into your beautiful eyes.

“Hmmm. There’s Bubs, Bae, Honey, Darling, Sweets…” you began to say.

“All those are cringe except for Sweets,” he laughed.

“Agreed,” you breathed out. “Ooo, what about loverboy?” you asked him as you continued to play with his soft hair.

“I like that, Sweets,” he smirked at you.

“Good, loverboy,” you laughed again, a permanent smile slapped on your face because of Joe. He always had you extra giggly, smiley, and happy around him. His effect on you was unmatchable.

“None of the other names feel super natural honestly. They feel weird,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his head.

“Agreed. I think we’re good with these ones,” he nodded.

These ones were good, but they still didn’t feel perfect. You needed something that naturally rolled off your tongues.

“I still can't believe this is real life,” you contently sighed. “I feel like I’m a pinch away from waking up from this beautiful dream,”.

“Nobody’s pinching you because this isn’t a dream,” he said while kissing your chest again. “This is all real,”.

“I love my life,” you giggled again as you felt Joe press multiple kisses to your skin.

“And I love you, baby,” Joe said, absentmindedly calling you ‘baby’ as he scooched up to be face to face with you, butterflies filling your body as he was showering you with all the love you deserved.

“I love you more, baby,” you said while pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before suddenly pulling away.

You just called each other baby without realizing it, but it was perfect. It was natural.

“Wait, that’s it,” you said as your heart skipped a beat. “Baby. That’s it, that’s the one,” you smiled at him.

“Baby,” he said, the word so easily rolling off his tongue. “Classics are always the best,” he nodded.

“And it rolled off our tongues without any pre-planned effort,” you eagerly smiled.

“Baby,” he whispered. “Baby, come here. Baby, where’s my sweatshirt? Baby, let’s go hook up in the storage closet,” Joe smiled as he tested out the name.

“Joe!” you shrieked as you playfully slapped his chest.

“I’m sold. I love it,” he grinned.

“Good. I love it too, Baby,” you smiled before you pulled him down for another passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around you as he pressed his body closely against yours, your heartbeats meshing together.

Sometimes home wasn’t four walls and a roof, it was 2 arms and a heartbeat.

End of flashback

“Where’d you go?” Joe asked as he rubbed your shoulder, snapping you out of your flashback.

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” you smiled at him as you played with his fingers. “Just thinking,”.

“Good things, I hope?” he said as he laid his head against yours.

“It’s always good things with you, don’t ever worry about that,” you smiled after you pressed a passionate kiss to his lips.

“Joe! Come out here, we need you,” Tee yelled over as he motioned for Joe to come out on the field.

“Sorry, Y/N!” he added.

“No worries,” you yelled back before you looked over at Joe. “Duty calls, Quarterback,” you nodded at him.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed as he got up from the bench, extending his hand to help you up. “I’ll see you in a bit though?”.

“I’ll be right there, front and center,” you blushed as he pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Make sure to wear the peach lipgloss,” he said as he dropped a kiss on your head before letting go of you and jogging out to the field.

“Would never forget it,” you yelled out to him, watching him look back at you with an enamored look on his face.

An hour later - Game Time

“Deep breath in, Deep breath out,” you thought to yourself as Joe’s parents led you down to the sideline family section. The air was electric, buzzing with the collective energy of thousands of fans. The shouting, cheers, and chants blend into a beautiful symphony of sound that vibrates through your chest.

The bright lights seem to follow you with every step as you walk down onto the field, walking past the screaming fans on one side and the football staff on the other. You were used to all of this considering you’d been a part of his football journey since day 1, but this time it felt different. The sea of people around you felt a tad overwhelming but incredibly exhilarating. There’s a sense of being both tiny and monumental at the same time–part of something much larger than yourself, yet with all eyes on you.

“They should be coming out any minute now,” Robin said once you reached the roped-off family section from where you could see the entire field. “How are you doing?” she asked, noticing your slightly overwhelmed facial expression.

“Good,” you breathed out. “I can feel all the eyes on me though,” you giggled.

“I think your outfit might have something to do with that,” she smiled as she rubbed your back. “They can see that his girlfriend came to play today,”.

“Yeah,” you blushed. “She did,” you grinned as you played with the ‘9’ on your necklace.

A few minutes later, they started setting everything up for the players run outs, your heartbeat picking up once you realized you were about to see him and this was really going to set in.

“Fuck, I can’t forget this,” you whispered to yourself as you reached into your pocket for your peach lipgloss. You carefully but quickly smeared the gloss over your plump lips as you heard and watched the team run out. The crowd erupted as the music blared throughout the stadium and you could practically feel the vibrations underneath you right now.

“And the Quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals, Joe Burrowww!” the announcers yelled over the speakers, your heart stopping as you heard the stadium erupt once more as the electricity in the air got dialed to 100.

“Here he comes,” Robin squealed next to you as she placed her hands on your shoulders and gently shook you around because of how excited she was for you.

And there he was.

The man that swept you off your feet, the man that completed your world, the man that loved you in ways that you thought were impossible. There he was running out of the tunnel and onto the field–and he was running straight to you.

You smiled at him as you watched him take his helmet off with one hand, using his other to fix his hair as he got closer to you. The crowd behind you losing their minds because of the detour he took over to this area of the sidelines.

“Joe!! Marry me!” one fan screamed.

“Have my babies!” another screamed.

“Yeahhh, get 'em’ shiesty!” another screamed.

“Ahhhh, he’s coming over here,” another one screamed.

You paid 0 attention to what was happening around you because as soon as you laid your eyes on him, everything went silent. It felt like it was just the two of you in that stadium.

“Fuck, he looks good,” you whispered under your breath as you gave him a slow once over, the Orange Jersey he had on was your absolute favorite.

Joe reached the roped-off portion of the family section and placed his helmet on the ground, first greeting his parents and sharing a few words with them before moving to you, who was eagerly waiting for him to notice you.

“Hi,” you grinned at him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “Come here often?”.

“Nah, first time,” you giggled.

“Well, how’s the experience so far rookie? Is it everything you dreamed of?” he asked you as he caught his breath.

“Everything and more,” you smiled at him, and he flashed his million-dollar smile at you in return. “When you smile that beautiful smile, all the girls in the front row scream your name. Just listen to them,” you giggled as you heard the loud girls screaming his name amongst some other bold things.

“Okay, but I can’t take my eyes off of you, and only you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only girl in this stadium right now,”.

“Please, I’m just another wide-eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you. Your whole fan club is here,”.

“Pshh, please. The fan club can go find someone else to thirst over. I have all I need right here,” he smiled as he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer, the rope preventing him from fully holding you. “Mm, this is a problem,” he sighed.

“Sorry, I’m off limits,” you winked.

“Nope,” he shook his head as he placed his hands on either side of your hips.

“Joe, what the hell are you-,”.

“Curl your legs up,” he whispered in your ear as he picked you up and lifted you to the other side of the rope, practically carrying you over it.

“Holy shit,” you widened your eyes at what he just did in front of everyone. You could hear the loud chatter behind you, everyone sounding incredibly confused as to what was going on in front of them.

“Not off limits anymore,” he smiled as he set you down and fixed your hair.

“I could’ve climbed under the ropes…” you said, still frozen in shock.

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be dramatic enough for us,” he laughed as he met your beautiful eyes.

“Fair point,” you giggled.

“I’m really glad you’re here. This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he said as he turned a bit more serious.

“This is all I’ve wanted too. I’m glad we decided to give this a chance, well, more than a chance. I know it hasn’t even been that long, but I’m all in,” you looked at him with your adorably soft eyes that he loved to get lost in.

“I’ve been all in since the day I saw you,” he blushed.

“Damn, am I that captivating?” you giggled as you fanned yourself from the flattery.

“Do you need me to answer that for real or…,”.

“No need. You can show me later,” you winked as you watched him quickly look over his shoulder at the time, seeing that he had to go back to his area for kickoff.

“I gotta go,” Joe breathed out.

“Okay,” you nodded as you shoved your hands in your pockets. “Have a good game,” you innocently teased.

“Mm, Mm,” Joe shook his head. “Nope,”.

“What?” you wiggled your eyebrows. “You need something else?”.

Joe reached out and put his hand in your jacket pocket, pulling you into him as you stumbled because of the sudden movement. Your eyes were glued to your feet as you slowly moved your head up and looked up at him, “I need my good luck kiss,” he grinned.

“Fine,” you playfully rolled your eyes and sighed. “If you insist-,” you began to say before you felt Joe smash his lips against yours, his hand firmly planted on your ass as he pressed you closer to his body. He groaned into the kiss as he tasted your delicious lip gloss on your lips. He placed his other hand on your waist as your hands looped around his neck, both of you getting lost in the sensual yet sweet kiss and forgetting about where you were and what was happening.

You were sure that everyone around you was probably screaming, taking a dozen photos and videos, and probably screaming at you to get away from Joe. But you didn’t actually hear any of it. It was just the two of you out there. In a stadium packed with thousands upon thousands of fans, it felt like it was just the two of you there.

A few seconds later, you both pulled away, still holding onto each other though. You and Joe were both a little breathless as you both laughed at each other.

“Peach Lip Gloss. You didn’t forget,” he winked.

“I could never forget,” you smiled as you heard a staff member call out for him. “Oops, looks like I’ve kept you too long,”.

“The game can wait,” he rolled his eyes.

“Uhh, I don’t think that’s how that works,” you laughed as you threaded your hands in his hair.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said as he dropped his head.

“Hey,” you said as you lifted his head back up and cupped his cheek. “Remember, you’re amazing and you’re going to kill it out there. Win or Lose, you are still one of the best damn quarterbacks to get onto that field in recent memory,”.

“I love you, Y/N,” he smiled, his heart beating right out of his chest at this point.

“I love you, Loverboy,” you giggled.

“Go get 'em’, Superstar,” you grinned as you pressed a final kiss to his lips.

After the Game

They won. The Bengals had won their first playoff game of the postseason.

Joe killed it, to say the least. He was out there playing with an extra edge, an edge many were curious about.

The only ones that knew where his newfound edge came from were the two of you. You were the edge he was playing with. He knew you were watching and he knew how much this all meant to you, he wanted to make it perfect.

And he did.

From start to finish he played an excellent game, one of the best games of his NFL career is what many were calling it.

Currently, you were seated on a bench outside the locker room as Joe was about to go into his postgame conference. You couldn’t wait to see him. Your phone was blowing up with messages and various notifications about you and Joe but you were holding off on looking at them because you remember he said that he wanted to do it together.

You pulled up the Bengals App and tapped on the live feed for the conference, your heart, soul, and face lighting up once you saw Joe sit down with a huge smile on his face.

“Hello, Hello,” he cutely said into the mic as he got comfortable.

“So, Joe. Looks like you had one hell of a game out there,” one reporter said.

Joe laughed as he pushed his hair back with his hand, “Yeah, I guess I did,”.

“Any reason in particular? Looked like you were playing with an extra edge out there,” another reporter asked.

“Just good vibes and feeling 100% all around,” he sighed.

“So, it had nothing to do with what happened on the sidelines before the game?” another reporter asked.

“Can they ask him that?” you whispered to yourself as you raised an eyebrow.

Joe let out a soft chuckle before responding, “Honestly. It had everything to do with that,” he boldly said.

Gasps and murmurs began to fill the conference room before another reporter spoke up. “Joe, we know you don’t really talk about your private life, but we have to know. That looked like one of your friends from college from what we’ve seen about you over the years,” they said.

“If you’re comfortable with sharing anything about that, we’d love to hear it,” another reporter added.

Joe paused for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, it is. That’s Y/N. She’s my bestest friend in the entire world ,” he nodded. “But also my girlfriend. She means the world to me and is a big reason why I go out there every Sunday and do what I do. She’s been by my side since day 1 back at Ohio State. She’s stuck by my side through everything in my career and my personal life, she never failed to show up for me no matter the situation or circumstances. She’s done it for 9 years and she doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon and I do the same for her. I love her more than words can describe. She’s my everything,”.

You felt a tear trickle down your face as you heard him talk about you most sweetly and lovingly way possible. He truly loved you and wasn’t afraid of openly showing it.

His everything.

You were his everything.

–The End–

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #ybwm #nfl imagine

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tkwrites · 5 months ago

Text

It Doesn't Matter - Part II - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character

Summary: When Nico agreed to pose for Lena as her nude model, he never expected how difficult it would be or where the night would take them.

Warnings: Slow burn, talk of lots of anxiety, being naked for the sake of art, smut at the end (18+): handjob (f on m) fingering (m on f)

Word count: 12,200

Comments: This fic has taken on a bit of a mind of its own. It’s much, much longer than I originally envisioned, but I couldn’t bear to cut any of it down. I hope you like it as much as I do and enjoy Nico and Lena finally sharing their feelings for each other.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

“I feel like I shouldn’t eat before,” Nico said, looking down at the spread of sushi that had just been delivered to the apartment.

“Why not?”

“So I’m not…” he patted his stomach affectionately. Not only would he be immortalized in her art, he didn’t want the first time she saw him naked to include being bloated from eating too much rice.

Lena flipped her hand and shook her head, “the whole point of a nude study is to see a human figure as it is, not as someone who's prepped for three days or something.”

He looked unconvinced.

“Do whatever you feel comfortable with, but don’t get hangry on me,” she warned, pointing her chopsticks at him.

Holding up his hands in surrender, he laughed.

He ate but stopped as soon as he felt the mildest hint of fullness. He could eat more when they were done.

“So, do I just get naked?” he joked, sliding the plastic takeout containers into the fridge.

She snorted, but the tips of her ears flared pink.

“I…kind of hoped…” her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she could just come out and ask for what she wanted. If he were a hired model, she would have asked him to come in a specific outfit, but this was Nico, and he was doing this as a favor.

“What?” he asked, unsure why she was being so hesitant. He was doing this for her. Didn't she know he would do just about anything for her? “Do you want me to wear something specific?”

Well, if he was offering. “Can you put on some dark suit pants with a belt?”

That wasn’t so bad. “Anything else?”

“No socks.” She knew he didn’t love to be barefoot, but for this, they would go against the picture and story she was building in her mind.

“Does it matter what color boxers?” he asked instead of protesting. He couldn’t remember what color he’d put on that morning.

Just thinking about seeing him in his boxers made her blush. Which was so stupid. She’d walked into the kitchen just the week before, only to find him walking around in nothing more than a tiny pair of black boxer briefs. They’d hugged his ass so tightly that she could see the muscles shift every time he moved.

Finally managing to shake her head and desperate to change the subject, she blurted, “I’m going to go set up in the living room.”

Nico smiled at how flustered she was as he went to change. Maybe Nina was right. At the very least, she might not be totally wrong.

“Maybe I’m just reading too much into it,” Nina had said when he had called his siblings in a panic the day before, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to get through this. “But I think you should give it a try. At least tell her how you feel. You don’t see the way she looks at you.”

He did see the way she looked at him. The same way she always had. Friendly and open and kind. But that was it. It never went beyond that.

“And what if I tell her and she turns me down? Or what if I tell her, and she says she doesn’t feel that way? I can’t just go back to how it was before. I can’t just take it back.”

“Isn’t it killing you to not tell her?” Luca asked. He didn’t understand it as well as Nina did, and had both feet firmly in camp ‘grow a pair and tell her,’ like Jack.

He gave a non-committal shrug. It was killing him. No, that was too dramatic. It wasn’t killing him, but it was making him a little crazy to feel so much intense emotion without having anywhere to put it.

Nina was tired of having this same discussion with him, which had only increased in frequency when Lena moved in. If she knew for a fact Lena wouldn’t turn him down, she wouldn’t hesitate to bully her little brother into spilling his guts. But as it was, she couldn’t guarantee anything.

“I’m going to make an ass of myself,” Nico moaned.

“You are not,” Nina admonished at the same time Luca said, “so what if you do?”

Luca continued before either of them could jump in, “you make an ass out of yourself every day you don’t tell her the truth.”

Nico had glared, and Nina had rolled her eyes.

In any case, knowing Lena was also nervous took some of his nerves down, too. At least he wasn’t alone in that.

Pulling out her art supplies, Lena felt like she might throw up. She was nervous and excited, and also so worried she wouldn’t be able to capture him. The last thing she wanted was to make Nico look flat.

Although landscapes were her specialty, the Institute insisted every artist get a full education, crossing over as many mediums and styles as possible. Even if it wasn’t the students' specialty, lots of things could be learned from going outside your own box.

She was scraping by in the class mostly because Professor Brown took pity on her. She told Lena over and over again that she had the talent but needed to feel the art. It was a criticism she only partially understood. Lena always felt her art, but figure drawing was indeed harder for her to connect with. She wasn't even sure why it was so difficult. Perhaps because a person was always moving, unlike a mountain that stayed steady and steadfast no matter what was happening around it. Capturing a facial expression was definitely harder than it was to find the divots and crags of a landscape.

This was another reason she wanted to sketch him. She knew him so well and knew she wouldn’t be able to turn off the part of her brain that was freaking out about seeing him naked. She would have to pay attention to his humanity and try to translate it onto the page.

Nerves ate at her stomach. Not only with the idea of not being able to capture his lovely figure, but also… Nico was her friend. Sometimes a little more than that if either of them needed a date to an event, but they’d never taken it beyond their usual, comfortable banter that often flirted with the idea of more. It was one of the things that made moving on from him so hard. He never made solid moves, but he never cut it off, either. He flashed his dimples and made her weak in the knees, but never went so far as to kiss her or really ask her on a date.

Seeing him naked without being in a relationship felt like a step too far. At the same time, it felt like the only option. There wasn’t another man she’d be comfortable sketching, despite her bluff about Jes.

Now she wished she hadn’t eaten.

At the very least, she would have the barrier of her art and easel between them. Maybe this really would force her into feeling her art. It already felt like she was fighting through her anxiety, and he wasn’t even there yet.

When he came into the living room, Nico found the furniture rearranged. She’d shoved the coffee table out of the way and set two of the dining room chairs in its place. She was unpacking her supplies, leaning a large sketching pad on her easel and lining several graphite pencils up on the side table, along with a sharpener.

“No paints?” he asked.

She jumped, and her heart did a little skid to the side. “These pieces are all supposed to be done in one color. I feel most comfortable with graphite, so I’m doing that instead of colored pencils,” she rambled before managing to cut herself off.

Turning to look at him, she breathed, “good heavens, you look hot,” before she could stop herself. She knew he would be, but she still felt like she’d just been socked in the stomach.

It was a bit selfish of her to request this particular outfit. She always liked the way his suit pants fit, and seeing his toned chest rising above the clean, sharp line of his black belt made her fingers itch to hold a pencil. His muscles were sculpted for practical use - not too bulky, but not too lean. Chiseled enough to show ridges and valleys, but not so much that he looked like a hulked out action hero.

He was desire personified. He was… he was an Adonis.

A cheeky smile lit his face, “good to know.”

She made herself laugh to break the tension.

“Where do you want me?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. It felt too intimate, too much like something he fantasized about if he didn’t force himself to joke about it.

A triumphant smile lit her face. This she could do. She was used to directing models into shapes where the light would highlight the most interesting part of their features. She asked him to stand in the middle of the room and turned him a few times, trying to get the lighting right.

Nico tried not to flex or stand too stiffly when her hands were grasping his forearms to turn him this way and that. She stepped back to study him, then came forward to begin the process again.

Eventually, she shoved the couch out of the way and asked him to lean against the wall.

He stayed rigidly in the position she left him in as she brought another lamp into the room, angling the shade to get the shadows she was looking for.

“Just lean against the wall with your hands in your pockets.”

He did, and laughter burst out of her chest, “you can relax.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, looking up without changing his posture. He felt stiff and on display. In his mind, this was going to be much sexier than the reality was turning out to be. He didn’t know what to do with his hands or his eyes. Or his mouth. Was he supposed to be doing something with his mouth? Should he be smiling?

“Just stand like you would if you were waiting for something.”

"What am I waiting for?"

“Like you’re waiting for…me?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, Nico,” she caught the exasperation in her voice and cut it off. He wasn’t a professional model. He wasn’t used to coming up with scenarios on the fly like this. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “like you’re waiting for me to…” she trailed off. “It doesn’t really matter why.”

If it was up to him, he’d be waiting to take her to bed. She was wearing the same pink shirt she’d worn that day he walked in on her in the kitchen, and it brought up vivid memories of her wearing it without a bra. He wondered if she was wearing the matching underwear. The thought made him blush and cast his eyes down.

His hair flopped over one of his eyes in that cartoon prince way it always did.

“Stay there,” she practically yelled, her hands itching to capture the angles of his face.

The sound of her pencil brushing her paper took over his thoughts, and he tried not to twitch as his hair tickled his eyelid.

“Can you relax your shoulders?” she asked.

He rolled his shoulders back and did his best to relax, “better?”

“Don’t move,” she chastised.

He smiled a little before trying to settle his face back into the expression he had before.

Just as his neck was beginning to ache, she ripped the page from her pad and asked him to sit down.

He looked at her for direction and smiled at her intensity. He wondered if she always looked at people like this when she was drawing them. He was a little disappointed that in the six years he'd known her, this was the first time this kind of intensity was being turned on him.

“Just get comfortable.”

Nico extended one leg and slouched into the chair, letting the other knee fall to the side so his legs were spread.

“Can you,” Lena stopped herself mid request, biting her lip. In her mind, she was forming an art story of him slowly undressing. She wondered if this was just her lust talking and if that was okay.

“Can I?”

She decided she didn't care if it was her lust driving. It would be a good, easy to follow series.

Her cheeks were aflame, glowing bright in the lamp light. “Can you undo your pants?”

His eyes widened momentarily, and she saw his Adams apple bob in his throat.

Forcing his fingers into action, he worked at the button and zipper, well aware of her watching his movements.

“I want to sketch your hands,” she said, voice reverent.

Nico stilled immediately and looked at her, holding his zipper pull. That wasn’t a reaction he’d expected.

“Oh, God,” she covered her face, pencil still in her fingers so the point angled down at her wrist. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

He couldn’t stop the cocky grin that spread over his face. This was more like what he’d imagined posing for her would be like. “You can sketch my hands anytime you want, hase,” he said, adding on the pet name before he thought better of it.

Her blush got brighter. She hated when he called her that. Bunny. It was a term of endearment that Nina assured her was well known and used by friends and lovers alike, but it brought up all sorts of wishing on her part that they were the latter.

“Where do you want my hands?” he asked because he knew it would make her more flustered.

She had to clear her throat and duck behind her easel. “Wherever,” she squeaked out, trying to calm her racing heart.

Laughing, he thought about photos of underwear models and tried to get his body into a position like that. He hooked his right thumb into his waistband, exposing more of his red boxer briefs. The other hand fell off to the side, relaxed.

Peeking around her easel, Lena lost her breath. She had never seen him so sexy. He radiated confidence and comfort with his body — something she never quite managed to feel about herself.

This was going to be impossible.

“Look at me.” She really didn’t want him to look at her. She felt like she might set fire to her sketch pad if he did, but it would make the most impactful portrait.

Nico’s eyes met hers, and her stomach jolted. The teasing, flirtatious energy radiating from him hit her in waves. The rumble of desire she'd been feeling in her low belly purred to a higher gear, and she had to consciously stop herself from clenching her thighs together. Flirty and intense, his eyes were focused on her with purpose. Wanting, she realized with a jolt. That’s what this expression was. The kind of wanting where you want the person you’re looking at to know you want them.

She’d imagined getting this look of open desire from him so many times that having it turned on her now nearly knocked the breath out of her.

Forcing her hands into action, she’d never been happier to find muscle memory taking over – drawing the basic shape of his body when her mind was still running around screaming about how outrageously, unfairly attractive he was.

Eventually, her creative mind took over, and she relaxed into the art, strokes lengthening and easing.

When it came time to detail, she started with his face, trying to capture his relaxed, intense stare. In any other circumstance, she was certain her panties would catch fire or dissolve right off her body if he gave her this look. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen this expression. He would never be so forward with her in real life.

Despite her heart beating so hard she felt it in her throat and her wrists, her pencil stayed steady.

The exercise wasn't lost on her. Even the first drawing felt different. This looked different from her usual work, too - more real in a way she couldn’t really describe. Almost as if he might just walk off the page and kiss the viewer.

Wanting to get this expression just right, she paused to take a photo so she could reference it later.

“Can we turn on some music?” he asked after a minute or two.

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Whatever, just something.”

Flipping on the TV, she pulled up his music subscription service and selected a slow playlist. Something he wouldn’t be tempted to bop his head to before going back to her easel to finish.

Pushing aside the longing to be on the receiving end of this wanting in a situation where he wasn’t acting, she continued on.

He stayed in this position the longest. He found it the most comfortable, and apparently, the way he was watching her, the concentration in her mouth, and the way it narrowed her eyes just slightly was fine for her. It was a relief to not have to school the wanting off of his face for once.

After getting to a place where she felt like she could pick back up in a day or two, she had him remove his pants and sit backward.

Almost immediately, he leaned back, one hand gripping the chair for balance while the other ran into his hair. She yelped at him to still.

He went rigid. The position forced him to engage his core, and the arm lifted to push back his hair started to cramp from halting mid-movement.

This sketch ended up being her favorite, though she knew people would like the one before better. This one was really a study of his body — how his muscles flexed and bulged. She even somehow managed to capture the feeling of movement in his bicep. She’d only been able to do that with trees before. Plus, the whole thing was such a Nico gesture, it felt more like him, too.

A page ripped from her sketch pad, and finally, letting his arm down and shaking it out, he watched her settle it, face down, onto the pile,

“Okay,” she came out from behind her easel, her hands clasped in front of her, “I’m gonna go… get some water if you want to undress and sit back like this?”

He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat to match hers. This was all fun, games and teasing until he had to be naked in front of her. And she wouldn’t even be touching him. She’d be standing three feet away, looking at him the way she looked at one of her paintings.

He’d daydreamed about being on the receiving end of that intense gaze so many times, but getting it in this situation felt like a poor consolation prize.

He was on his own here, with no one to share the vulnerability of being naked with.

“Do you need anything?” she asked from the kitchen as he was stripping off his boxers.

“Water?” he asked, setting them on top of his folded pants.

Walking back into the living room, two bottles in her hand, Lena stopped short.

She had seen many nude models and taught herself to get over the shock quickly. Training her mind to see the person as a sculpture, not a living being, she focused on the beauty of the human body and not the person living in it. And Nico’s body was beautiful. Smooth golden skin, dotted with freckles and moles, that stretched over living, moving muscles.

Except, he wasn’t a marble statue. He was a living, breathing, beautiful man, and she knew him. She knew how he acted and what he loved, and she knew how much she loved him. And how much it meant to her that he was willing to put himself in such an uncomfortable position for her. She loved him so much, her heart ached with it. How could she possibly translate that into a two dimensional piece of art?

She knew from experience how awkward it was to be a model, let alone a nude model, and that was with people she barely knew. For Nico to be naked in front of her, willing to let her sketch his strong legs and expressive eyes was something totally different. Now, besides seeing his body, which really was so beautiful, it nearly made her lose her breath. She could also see the anxiety in the set of his thigh and the curve of his spine.

Quite suddenly, gratitude and love for him swelled within her chest in a way she had never experienced. It felt hard to breathe.

A small noise escaped her throat.

Looking over his shoulder, Nico asked, “okay?”

She nodded. Her feet finally moved, and she handed him the water. “You’re so beautiful, Nico,” she said, that reverent tone back in her voice as her eyes wandered down his body.

He felt a blush creep down his neck. “I don’t…” he cleared his throat, “I mean, you’re…”

His brain wasn’t working right. She was watching him with this wonderment in her face, like she’d just found the answer to the universe. He wanted to tell her she was the beautiful one, not him, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words when she was looking at him like that.

“Thanks,” he finally managed to say. "What do you want me to do?”

Now that they were here, she had no idea. She just wanted to watch him for the rest of the night.

The embarrassment she’d expected never came.

She adjusted her easel, so she was looking at him, just off to the side. She could see three-quarters of his face, but his thick thigh hid his penis from her view. “Just try to get comfortable,” she said.

Her voice was so kind and gentle that it relaxed Nico a little, but mostly, he still felt coiled tight and out of sync. “I don’t know that I can,” he said truthfully.

“That’s fine. I know I’m asking you to be comfortable in a really awkward situation. If you feel like you can’t look at me, that’s fine.”

The truth was that he always wanted to look at her, but seeing her this way, looking at him with holiness in her face, made him ache for her in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. It felt nothing like any of the dreams or daydreams he’d had that involved him being naked in her presence before.

She started with his legs first, so he didn’t have to find a way to position his head right then. “Can you flex your right thigh?” she asked.

He did, and she giggled. He glanced over to find her in the same spot, shaking her head, “sorry, the other thigh? Your left. My right.”

Nico tried his best and heard a breath rush from her.

“Good grief, your legs are so sexy,” Lena said before she could stop herself.

His breath lodged in his chest. “My legs?” he repeated, his voice one step off from croaking. Had she really just said that?

“Yes,” she said, her tone serious, pencil still working. “Men’s legs are severely underrated.”

When he glanced at her, he found her concentrating again, but her mouth was set in a new expression, lips soft and parted slightly, like she was waiting to be kissed. At this point, it was nothing short of torture.

Pulling his eyes from her, he folded his arms around the chair back and set his chin on his hands. He watched the album cover bouncing around the TV screen. Mens legs were underrated. How many men did she think about like that?

“That’s really nice, Nico, if you can just stay like that.”

Cookie wandered in then and flopped onto the carpet previously covered by the coffee table. He watched Nico with slow blinking eyes, and he tried not to feel so observed.

After four more songs of listening to her pencil and eraser working, she said, “Okay.”

He sat up.

“Wait! I have to take a picture.”

He winced, feeling the muscles in his back knot up. “Those aren’t getting turned in, are they?”

“Nope, they’re just for me,” she winked.

His eyes widened, and she laughed.

“No, they’re for reference so I can finish the drawings. I’ll delete them later.”

Forcing a laugh, Nico couldn’t quite decide which was worse - her taking the pictures or telling him she'd delete them so casually.

“Okay, so for the last two sketches, I was thinking one with you standing, and one with you supine.”

“Supine?” he repeated. He’d never even heard that word before.

“Laying on your back.”

Well fuck. Of all the times he imagined himself on his back with her, this was just another one that would crush the daydreams he clung to on long, lonely nights. Pushing that thought away, he asked, “what’s first?”

“Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Standing full frontal?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “None of my figure drawings have included genitals. I could cut you off at the pelvis or sketch from behind. Which would you prefer?”

He shrugged, feeling too spent to make a decision, especially one like this. Then, quite suddenly, he realized: If he was standing in front of her, he’d have to watch her looking at his dick the whole time. “Behind,” he blurted, too quick, too loud.

After following her instruction, he found himself standing, facing the large window, where the curtains were mercifully drawn. One of his feet was up on a rung of the coffee table, forcing him to keep balance with the other.

“I think you need to hold something,” she said, standing and walking out of the room.

Upon coming back, she handed him the chain he wore most of the time. He’d left it on his bathroom counter, unsure if she wanted him to wear it. The fact that she seemed to know where he’d left it without asking wasn’t lost on him. He wondered if she assumed that’s where he’d left it or if she’d somehow seen him put it there.

“You can fiddle with that,” she said.

It was cool and solid in his hands, and he allowed it to slip through his fingers, feeling the ridges and links of the metal, before his fingers slid over the cross. His breathing centered, and he felt some anxiety unknot between his shoulder blades.

After a quick outline, she filled in some details that wouldn’t come through in a photo and asked him to lie down. She knew he was losing steam. It was a lot to ask to pose for six different portraits. Not only did it require a certain amount of stillness on his part, but it was also a night full of being watched. She could fill in the details later.

“Let me get you a blanket to lay on,” she said.

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to lay buck naked on the floor.

She fetched the cozy blanket she kept on her bed. It was soft and comforting and smelled like her, like the sweet, citrusy scent of her perfume. It was all at once comforting and disconcerting. He had so many memories with this scent. There was even a time his dick would twitch every time he smelled it. It was around too much, now, for that reaction, but it still called up a sharp longing in his gut.

Wrapping it around himself, he sat on the floor, then lay down.

She fetched him a pillow, and once he was comfortable, began directing. “Can you bend your knee closest to me?”

He was slow to move but did it anyway.

Sensing his fatigue, she told him, “I know, we’re nearly done.”

He sighed, relieved he didn’t have to ask.

“I was hoping this one would be sort of satisfied.” she said, settling herself onto the floor facing him, her easel collapsed to be shorter.

He arched one of his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “I mean like, content, I guess.”

“I don’t think I can do that right now,” he said, hearing a wearied annoyance come into his voice. He was too tired to school it back. He was feeling spent up. Too much vulnerability with too little reciprocation.

Lena bit her lip. “Can I do anything to make it better?”

A sigh shifted his chest into a new position, “I just feel really…” he wasn’t sure what the words he needed were.

She waited patiently for him to finish. He liked that she never rushed his thinking.

Finally, he threw the other half of the blanket over his lap and sat up to face her. “I feel like I’m all exposed.”

She nodded.

“And you’re not.”

She hmm’d and pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, thinking. It was such a Lena gesture that it made him smile.

“Do you want me to get undressed?” she asked, then immediately regretted it. It seemed like the reciprocal thing to offer, but upon hearing the words out loud, she realized exactly how much she didn’t want to do it. Then they both would be anxious and awkward, and she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her art, and that would be a loose loose for everyone.

“No.” Yes, of course he did. But if that were to happen, he wanted to earn it. He didn’t want it to be because he couldn’t sit through modeling for some portraits. Plus, then he would be completely distracted by her.

She scooted a little closer to him, questioning in her eyes.

“I feel,” he hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. A long pause passed where she didn’t get fidgety or impatient, just waited for him to continue. The phrasing came in SwissGerman first, or course, and then he had to figure out how to best say it in English. “I feel like I’m doing this for nothing.”

“For nothing?” she repeated, a mildly panicked look crossing her face.

“I’m doing it for you, but for what? So you do well on your project?” He was happy to help, but it felt like too much. Too much given without any reciprocation. Perhaps his fatigue was talking.

Her mouth pursed, “I can see where you’re coming from, but it’s a little more than a grade at this point. With you, I've finally been able to sketch the body the way I've been trying to for so long. And the fact that you’re willing to do something so uncomfortable, so vulnerable for me makes me just…I don’t even know how to say it.” She wanted to tell him that it made her love him. She’d told him she loved him before. She’d told him that many times: “love you, see you later,” but this felt different, deeper and truer somehow, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to admit those feelings.

Instead, she asked, “do you want to see the sketches so far?” feeling they may be the best explanation she had.

He perked up. She rarely showed anyone her art until it had been worked on more. A rough sketch was something she held close to her chest, wanting to keep it private until she deemed it good enough to display. He nodded, and Lena stood to retrieve them.

Given a moment to think, he assessed his body, finding what was lacking with a quick scan. “I think I need to eat,” he said.

His metabolism was so high, spiked higher by so much physical exercise all the time that hunger often came on swiftly, affecting his mood more than he’d like to admit. His teammates teased him to the point that he always had a snack with him. How long had they been at this drawing thing? He hadn’t eaten enough to begin with, and now they were however many hours in, and he was hungry.

That would also explain it. She hadn’t been joking when she told him not to get hangry on her. Setting the sketches in front of him, she went to grab the sushi from the fridge.

The drawings were farther along than he expected. She worked faster than he knew.

It was a strange thing to see himself in her delicate, penciled outlines.

Flipping over to the second sketch, he blinked a few times. He was himself, but not. The man on this paper was confident, relaxed, and flirtatious in a way he always wanted to be, especially with Lena.

“Is this how you see me?” he asked when she came back into the room.

“That’s how you are, Nico.”

It was like looking in a weird, funhouse mirror. Was this how she saw him all the time?

The third sketch was all in the details: the peek of the tattoo on his bicep, the flex of his abs, and the swell in his boxers.

He flipped to the first nude sketch. She perfectly captured how he felt. Anxious, unsure, and alone. It even looked like he was bouncing his leg. Yet, the portrait didn’t seem to feel anxious. It somehow felt like acceptance. She wasn’t fighting against his feelings to make them prettier, never asking him to feel anything different. She took him as he was and translated him onto a page in a way he’d never seen or expected to see.

How could he possibly be these two things just an hour apart?

“It’s weird to see your own facets turned back on you, isn’t it? I felt that way when I had to sit for class portraits.” They had all taken turns modeling for their classmates so they could understand better the perspective of the model, and it had been strange to see sixteen different versions of herself at the end of the class - each of them skewed a little based on the artist.

In the last drawing, he looked more relaxed. He was so glad when she’d handed him his cross to hold. Not only was it something comforting and familiar, but she’d also given him something to do with his hands, which felt important.

This was the drawing that most made him look like a hockey player, he thought. He could clearly see how his butt and thighs were thicker than the rest of him. He’d long ago gotten used to the size of his legs, but it was still strange to see the disproportion of them in comparison with the rest of his body laid bare so thoroughly.

She dipped her head to capture his line of vision, “I meant what I said before, Nico,” she said, handing him the to-go container. “You really are beautiful.” She flipped back to him tense and unsure. “Even here. Maybe even most here.”

His eyes shot to hers.

“This,” she tapped the drawn version of him on the back, “represents a huge sacrifice you're making for me. Putting yourself in a very uncomfortable position to help me get better at my art. To help me really understand the human form for the first time. I look at this, and I see how much you care for me.”

When he’d finished with the rest of the sushi, feeling sated and comfortable, he looked at her. She’d placed her sketch pad on the floor and put the last drawing on top of it. Hunched over, she was filling in detail.

He always appreciated this about Lena, that if he needed some time to himself, she would find a way to keep herself busy. He didn’t feel like he had to entertain her all the time, like he did with a lot of the women in his life. It was a refreshing change of pace.

He watched her work for a while, fascinated with the way she braced her hand with just the knuckle of her pinky finger so she wouldn’t smudge the charcoal already on the page.

Clearing his throat, he set the empty container to the side.

Looking up, Lena could see how much better he felt. His shoulders were more relaxed, and his hands were loose in his lap.

“Do you want to keep going?” she asked, moving the drawing back to the pile.

He nodded.

“We can pick up again on Sunday if you’d rather.”

He wasn’t sure he could convince himself into doing this again. “No, I feel better,” which was a partial truth, “let's finish now.”

She scooted back to her easel. When she got settled and looked around it, she found he had changed positions. Still on his back, his other knee was slightly bent, the blanket draped around his far hip to cover himself. His hand was up, resting under his head, showing off the smooth underside of his bicep and the tattoo of his families zodiac signs.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

"Yeah. Could you adjust the blanket?” she asked. “So it’s not so folded?”

He nodded and pulled himself into a half crunch to see and adjust the fabric. His abs contracted, and Lena looked at the ceiling before she could be overwhelmed with attraction.

“Like this?” he asked.

When she looked again, it was better, but still looked too placed, not like it’d been hastily thrown over him.

Her lips pressed together, an he sighed, knowing what that meant. “Can you just adjust it?”

“You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

Pulling in a fortifying breath, he nodded.

As she crawled over to him, Nico felt his heartbeat quicken.

Her hands softly gathered the blanket, pulling out the folds. If he were wearing something underneath, she’d just toss it up and let it fall, but she couldn’t do that.

Her fingers brushed the inside of his thigh as she tucked more of it between his legs, and the muscle fluttered all the way up to his groin. Biting his cheek, he stifled the groan of frustration that crawled up his throat.

“Sorry,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Maybe he hadn’t been as successful as he thought. If he looked at her now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop the semi he was sporting from popping into a full boner and he just couldn't take that embarrassment. “it’s okay. Just, no more.”

Nodding, she scooted back to her easel.

Keeping his eyes closed, Nico thought about swimming in the cold, glacial lake near home until his body relaxed.

“Nico,” Lena asked, her hand on his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered open.

Above him, her expression was soft and full of that same wonderment from before. “I’m done if you want to get dressed.”

He nodded, and she left the room.

Before going to join her in the kitchen, he pulled his boxers and trousers back on.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you felt comfortable.”

He hugged her then, bringing her body closer to his. He'd been thinking about it for too long.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she said, voice intimate, dim and quiet.

“You know I'd do anything for you,” he said.

Did she know that? She figured she did. “Still, I know it wasn’t easy, so thank you.”

Nico stilled when she tucked her face into his neck. She’d done this before when he’d comforted her after a breakup. Then, he’d wanted to show her he could be the better man for her, but he’d been unwilling to cross that line. He still was. Maybe Jack and Luca were right. Maybe he did just need to grow a pair and ask her out. But what if she didn’t want him and didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of that discussion and wanted to move out? He would feel horrible. She’d have to find a place that would let her keep Cookie or take him back to her parents.

“Are you okay?” she asked, running her hands over his back. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. Along with the scent of his soap and the mild undertone of sweat, there was a faintly cedar-y smell clinging to his skin. She’d never been able to tell where it came from. It was too faint to be cologne.

His muscles trembled. “Yeah,” he said into her hair, trying to calm his racing heart.

Her phone trilled from her back pocket. Lena was the only person he knew who didn’t keep her phone on vibrate.

She pulled back so she could look at it.

Nico reluctantly let his hands fall to his sides. “Your mom?” he asked. It seemed she was the only one who ever really called Lena. At least when he was around.

“No, it’s Milo,” she said, silencing the ringer and setting the phone face down on the counter. “He’s probably drunk and wants to get laid.”

Nico’s heart began to race with worry, jealousy, and fear. “Does he do that a lot?” Thank god his voice didn’t squeak over the words.

“Once a month or so, I guess.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask this question. He knew it was none of his business, but he was tired and emotionally empty, and his filter was thinner than usual because of it. “Do you take him up on it?”

Her eyebrows raised, a sarcastic look taking over her pretty features, “are you serious, Nico? Of course not. He’s just drunk dialing through his contacts list.”

“I always hated that guy. He’s such a tool.”

Hearing that phrase come out of Nico’s mouth, in his strong accent, made her laugh out loud. “What?”

“That’s not the right word?” he asked. “Like he’s selfish and just does things to be cool?”

“It’s the right word,” she confirmed, this teasing smile on her lips that would liquify his bones if he let it. “I know you never liked him. I just didn’t realize you felt so…strongly about it.”

His nose scrunched as he blew out a frustrated breath. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Well, he couldn’t measure up anyway.”

“Measure up to what?”

“To this guy I’ve liked for a really long time,” she said, not quite brave enough to spit out the truth.

“So why don’t you date him?” Nico asked instead of demanding to know who this man was.

“I can’t ever tell if he’s into me.”

“He’d be a fool to not be into you.”

“Would he?” she asked, looking into his face, wondering what he meant by that.

“Yeah. You’re kind and fun and smart,” he said.

Part of her swooned when he didn’t lead off with the fact that she was pretty. The other part of her was a little disappointed he didn’t seem to notice.

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” he added on quietly as his eyes dropped to his feet. He couldn’t possibly look at her while telling her another man would be lucky to have her. It would happen one day, he knew, but he kind of hoped he’d somehow be out of the picture when it did.

Lena studied him as he looked at his bare feet.

His curiosity got the better of him, “who is this guy anyway?”

Well, shit. She’d really talked herself into a corner this time. What was she supposed to say now?

“Do I know him?”

She nodded.

“Does he play?” he asked hesitantly.

She nodded again.

“I thought…” The knowledge sliced through him: if it wasn’t about hockey, it was about him. “I thought you didn’t like hockey players,” he said, fighting against the ache in his chest.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What gave you that idea?”

“I overheard you talking to Jessica at the rink once about how you wouldn’t date me because I was a hockey player.”

“You’re sure I was talking about you?”

“You said ‘I don’t date hockey players,’ and then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’”

Understanding sparked her memory. “Did you stick around to hear my answer?” She hadn’t even known he was listening in on that conversation. She’d been sitting on the refreshments counter while Jessica baked the soft pretzels. He must have been around the corner, heading into the locker room.

“You said ‘it doesn’t matter.’ I couldn’t listen anymore, so I walked away.”

A small smile lit up her face. “If you had stayed, you would have heard me say, ‘it doesn’t matter, Nico’s not like the other guys. He’s sweet and respectful.’”

“Oh,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say. “I thought you didn’t date hockey players,” he said again, lamely.

“I don’t. I mean, not the average ones,” she added on when his expression fell. “I told people that because they’d wonder why I was around the team all the time, but not shacking up with any of them. Those boys I grew up with were all such dogs, but you never made me feel less than for being a woman or like I needed to put out to be accepted.”

His nose wrinkled.

“See, that?” she asked, noting his disgust. “That’s why I like you, Nico. You’re sweet and kind and so respectful of women.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You see it in locker rooms all the time. I’m sure you see it in yours currently.”

The conversation paused as he thought.

“You’re different than other players,” she said. “Jessica was asking me that because she knew you’re a hockey player that I liked.”

“You liked me?” he asked, his mind running in circles trying to process all the information coming at him.

“Yeah, Nico,” she said. Well, she was already here, she may as well spill the whole pot. “I still do.”

Half of his mouth lifted just enough to dimple his cheek.

“Ugh, don’t flash your dimples at me! I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is,” she said, shoving his shoulder.

That was new. “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Don’t tease Nico. It’s rude.”

“Who said anything about teasing?”

“I —” she was having a hard time articulating her words, “but you —”

He patiently waited for her to finish, attempting to school the grin off his face.

“But you don’t even like me like that,” she finished, lamely.

He couldn’t help it, laughter burst out of his chest, “what?”

“You’ve never made a move,” she said, feeling outrageously embarrassed. It was one thing to admit her feelings, but then to have them thrown back in her face was something she just couldn’t handle.

“You know what Jack tells me every time he sees us together?”

She was so taken off guard by the question that it jolted Lena out of her spiraling thoughts. “What?”

“He tells me to make it happen.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“All the guys know I’m in love with you.”

Her breathing hitched, and she gripped the counter behind her to keep from falling over.

“In fact, everyone knows I’m in love with you. Nina says I look so lovesick no one can miss it.” He took a step in so they were nearly chest to chest. “But somehow, you don’t ever see it,” he added quietly.

He was so close, she was certain he could hear her heart hammering. Her mind was still caught on, ‘all the guys know I’m in love with you.’ It was like she couldn’t process the words. “You’re in love with me?” she asked.

A deep, frustrated sound, like a groan, filtered up his throat. The thought of pulling that sound out of him in any other circumstance made her knees feel weak. It sent heat racing between her thighs.

“I’ve been in love with you since I left Halifax,” he said, relief he didn’t have to keep anything under wraps flooding through him. “That’s why I broke up with Viv when I left. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it wasn’t fair to her or to me.”

Her wide eyes snapped to his, and Nico took a steadying breath. She really hadn’t known. All this time, he thought she must have, but held to her principles enough to turn away from it.

“I’ve been in love with you since you left Halifax, too, Nico.”

It was his turn for his breathing to hitch. “What?”

“I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

How was this possible? Nico felt like his knees were slowly turning to jelly. “How could you think that?” he croaked.

“You never made a move,” she repeated.

“You said you don’t date hockey players,” he defended.

Hands fluttering up to cover her face, Lena shook her head. “I can’t believe this,” she said, a small laugh escaping.

Reaching up, Nico gently encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away. She let them fall by her sides.

His heart was galloping in his chest. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, surprised to find his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Lena nodded, a feeling as though she were about to jump out of a plane surging through her body. Something grand and beautiful waited for her if she could just put her faith in the parachute and step into the unknown. Well, partially unknown. She knew Nico, and she wasn’t afraid.

One of his hands drifted up to her face. Cupping her jaw, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Lena,” he said, glad to find his voice had evened out.

For the first time, she recognized that look he was always giving her. That wide open, soft gaze. Love, she realized with a shock of understanding. It was love. It had been love this whole time. She really had been blind.

Her eyes darted away as her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you.” She wouldn’t lie, hearing it eased some of the anxiety in her chest.

He waited for her eyes to come back to his before leaning down. Heart hammering with six years of anticipation, their lips finally met.

When her head tipped slightly to the side and her mouth opened to him, a shock raced down his spine while a sigh filtered up his throat. The kiss was better than any fantasy his mind had concocted through the years.

His tongue tentatively slipped into her mouth, and Lena felt a flash flood of right, this is right, this is the most right thing that’s ever been right in my life, sweep through her.

Her hands fluttered up to his shoulders, and she felt his, heavy on her waist, squeeze when her tongue slipped past his lips.

God, Nico was in paradise. This was the softest, most heavenly, love-filled kiss he’d ever experienced. How did people even find words for this? Sudden understanding sparked in the back of his mind. This was why people wrote sonnets and songs and books. He wanted to drown in this feeling.

Eager to see his face again, she eased back.

“This is okay?” he asked, eyes snapping to hers, worried she was having regrets.

Nodding, she leaned forward and slid her mouth over his.

This kiss was slower, more passionate. When her teeth grazed his bottom lip, Nico felt electricity zing through him.

His fingers ran into her hair to cradle the back of her head.

There was no stopping the moan that filtered up her throat when he sucked on her tongue gently.

Fuck, he loved that noise more than anything he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again, and again and again in every possible position and every possible circumstance.

All at once, the kiss was electric, the initial softness giving way to the chemistry and sexual tension that had been brewing between them for more than half a decade. Lena had never felt anything like it. It was exhilarating and somehow grounding in a way she’d never experienced, as if they were rooted together by their passion.

She wanted more of him. Her hands dove into his hair, noting the groan he let out when she pulled it lightly.

Nico lifted her onto the counter. He wanted her closer than their standing position allowed. She wrapped her legs around his waist. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He broke away and trailed his mouth to her jaw, eager to taste her skin.

“Nico,” her voice was a breathy little moan.

He was a fool for not telling her sooner. God, he was such a fool.

Her hand found his jaw and pulled his mouth back to hers with a simple, “more,” that nearly drove him out of his mind with the need to obey.

Their teeth clicked, and she gigged.

He loved this, too - getting her in all the ways, even the awkward ones. A laugh fell into her mouth, and it brought him back to himself. He wanted to savor this. There was no need to rush. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Nico felt himself pout when she proved him wrong, and her lips broke from his. She stripped off her shirt, and before he could get his eyes on her, he felt her mouth connect to that soft spot under his jaw. How did she know?

“Lena,” he breathed. Her hands slid down his front, and the shock of her touch sent his skin to trembling. “Oh my God, Lena.”

She’d always loved the way he said her name, but this was something else. This was a song she would never get tired of, one she wanted to listen to again, and again, and again.

Her mouth explored his throat, sucking his pulse point. His dedication to go slow dissolved a little with every brush of her tongue, every graze of her nose ring across his skin.

His hands were suddenly everywhere. All over her back, cupping her butt to pull her to the edge of the counter so their hips could touch.

Feeling the rigid length of him pressing between her legs turned Lena feral. She’d done this to him. She was doing this to him. Tightening her legs around him, she wanted to do so much more to him.

Their hips ground together as his hands slipped to unhook her bra. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He fumbled with the clasps briefly before they gave way.

Taking the garment at the center gore, she pulled it away from her body. A brief moment of chaos ensued as their arms tangled in the effort to get it away from her. Finally, she flung it over his shoulder and giggled when the metal bits clinked against the tile floor.

Laughter split his face into the adorable, dimpled smile she loved so much before his gaze turned back to her. Even as the corners of his mouth remained turned up, his jaw slackened as his eyes blew wide.

Dreams and reality crashed into each other, and Nico felt his breath rush from his lungs. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“Hase,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was a bit of a cutesy pet name, but his brain was too busy trying to soak in every detail of her he’d been so starved for to think of a new one.

He murmured something under his breath in German, and Lena felt heat race to her core. She slid her hands into his hair in an attempt to pull him into a kiss, but he resisted, eyes still glued to her chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, voice husky.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a blush overtake her cheeks.

He reached out, then paused, hands stopped in mid-air. “Can I?”

When his eyes flicked up to meet hers again, she lost her own breath. She was so used to seeing Nico’s expressive eyes wide with (what she knew now was) love, sparkling with mirth or drooped with disappointment. This…lust, different even from when he was posing with his pants undone, was new. Heat mixed with love and wonder. She’d never felt so desired.

She nodded, finding her voice wasn’t where she left it.

Nico was already throbbing against the zipper of his trousers, and cupping her breasts in his palms only made it worse. When she arched into his touch with a moan, it became damn near unbearable.

Unable to wait any longer, he crashed his lips to hers as their hips surged together again.

If he wasn’t careful, he was going to blow his load in his pants before he even got to feel her touch. Forcing himself to slow down, he concentrated on the weight of her breasts in his hands and the taste of her tongue in his mouth.

She was the one who took it further, one of her hands slipping down his stomach to cup him over his fabric prison.

Now would be a horrible time to faint, he told himself, even as he felt his eyes rolling back and his hips pushing forward into her hand. He groaned against her lips.

His mouth slid to her neck, and she shivered, feeling her nipples tighten more as his teeth scraped over her sensitive throat.

He was hard and so hot, even through the fabric of his trousers. It suddenly wasn’t enough. Removing her other hand from his hair, she fumbled with the belt buckle. Finally managing to get it open, she asked, “this is okay?”

“God, yes,” he moaned, hips restlessly moving against her hands.

As she was tearing the zipper down, one of his hands slid toward the fastening of her own jeans. “Okay?”

“Uh-hu.”

It was only after he flicked the button open and managed to pull the zipper that she realized she didn’t want to do this here. Not where, if she leaned back, her head would hit the cabinets, and not so close to where they prepared their food.

“Can we move to the couch?” she asked, breath in his ear.

Could they move to the couch? He would move them to the moon if she asked.

Lightning fast, his hands were suddenly cradling her bum, hauling her off the counter so he could cary her to the living room. A surprised yelp escaped her at the sudden show of strength.

He had to wrench his eyes open so he wouldn’t dump them on the floor as she licked his jaw up to the lobe of his ear, which she nibbled gently.

When they made it there, he tried to sit down still holding her, but only half managed it before he was falling the rest of the way. He didn’t mind her crashing on top of him. Feeling her chest pressed to his was a lifelong dream coming to fruition.

She was moving so restlessly on top of him, hips grinding, it made him whimper. Her hands snaked between them again, this time to shove his pants down.

They both pushed and tugged, and finally, he was free.

She broke away to look at him, and he had a sudden, terrible worry she would be disappointed. He wasn’t the biggest guy, but he wasn’t too small — at least no one had told him so.

“Oh, Nico,” Lena murmured, finally getting her hands on him. He was perfect. Thick and hard and searingly hot against her palm.

“Lena,” he moaned, head tipping back against the couch cushions. Finally feeling her touch was incredible. Now really would be a terrible time to faint.

She pulled her hand away briefly to spit into her palm, and he almost lost it, feeling like he could have come from the sight alone.

As soon as she began to stroke him, he was done for. There was no coming back from this — though he couldn’t think of a reason why they would need to.

His mouth dropped open, and his eyelids fluttered, attempting to keep looking into her face. The pleasure she was pulling out of him won out, and his eyes closed.

“Feels so good,” he groaned, his accent thickening as he spoke. He was going to lose his English next.

It happened, and he started babbling in German.

His voice was lower in his native tongue - it always had been. Lena felt her core flutter in anticipation.

He repeated the same word several times like it was a question, but she didn't know what it meant.

Nico opened his eyes and came back to himself enough to realize she didn't understand, and therefore couldn't do what he was begging her to.

“Kiss,” he managed in English, unable to pull out the correct grammar. “Please, kiss.”

Oh, that's what kush meant. In hindsight, it did sound a lot like kiss.

When she caught his lips, Nico couldn't hold back a moan as her tongue licked into his mouth. He had imagined this so many times, but those fantasies didn't prepare him for the actual feel of her hands on him, or the sweet, warm taste of her mouth, as if she'd just eaten one of those cinnamon sweets she liked so much.

Pleasure sparked and fizzed across his skin.

Jesus, this was better than anything he’d ever felt. Was this what six years of longing and anticipation did? Deciding it didn’t matter, he pushed the thought aside and let his whole mind be consumed by her soft hand, her incredible tongue, and the knowledge that this was actually happening. This was happening for real. He wasn’t going to jolt awake in a few minutes with a boner so hard it hurt.

“Lena,” he groaned into her mouth.

She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “what do you need?”

Everything. He needed everything. “You,” he said instead.

“I’m here,” she said, pulling at his length with a little more fervor.

His hips pumped up into her hand, desperate for release.

“Lena, I’m…” he couldn’t even get the words out before he was exploding.

She moaned along with him, drinking in the pleasure that washed over his face - his fluttering lashes and panting mouth.

Closing his eyes, Nico tried to compose himself. The sight of his release splattered over her breasts might actually make him faint.

She kept going with slower, gentler strokes until he winced, then gently pulled her hand away.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and satisfied.

She giggled.

God, he couldn’t even move. Her mouth was back at his neck, and he breathed out a curse in German.

“Is that good or bad?” she asked into his skin.

“So good.” He needed to teach her so he wouldn’t have to explain. “Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said instead of launching into a lesson in German swearing.

Lifting her mouth from his neck, she looked down at him.

God, he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “You’re so handsome, Nico,” she whispered, tracing a thumb over one of his bushy eyebrows.

He flushed.

“I’ve thought about what you look like when you’re coming so many times,” she said, tracing over his cheekbone this time.

“You have?” he squeaked.

She nodded. “And it was so beautiful.”

“I have too,” he admitted, slowly sliding his hand up her thigh. “Can I see it?”

Biting her lip, she nodded.

Even as he was working his hand into her underwear, his other was coming up to her face and gently thumbing her bottom lip out from under her teeth.

“Show me how to make you come,” he said, eyes boring into hers.

Shit, she might just fall apart from that look alone.

Rising onto her knees, she shoved her pants and underwear down to give them easier access. His fingers slipped between her lips, and she moaned, pressing toward them.

“I don’t really get off from penetration,” she said, “I like it, but it won’t make me orgasm, so it’s all about the clit for me.”

Sliding his fingers back from her entrance, he searched for that little nub. “Here?” he asked when he thought he’d found it.

Reaching down, she moved him where she needed him, so the pads of his fingers were making direct contact. “Here,” she breathed, guiding him to circle over and around her pearl.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and he devoured the pleasure that flowed over her face.

“I like this, too,” she said, moving his fingers into a V so they traced on either side.

He started a pattern from her instructions — circling and stroking, then splitting as he pulled back.

“You can press harder,” she moaned softly.

He did, and her hips stuttered into his touch.

“Can you…” she trailed off, feeling suddenly shy. She’d never asked a man for this before. Then again, this was Nico. He’d taken every other instruction to heart and was touching her exactly the way she wanted. She knew he would at least try.

“Anything,” he rasped, “tell me.”

Hips seeking, she moaned and loved that he was so willing to please her. She could see it in the way he was watching her — this eager, desperate look in his eyes, full of wonder and desire and so much need.

“Can you suck my nipples?” she finally whispered.

Growling something affirmative, he leaned in and drew one of the tender buds between his lips.

Her voice keened, and her hand flew into his hair to cradle him to her chest, “use your tongue,” she instructed, then moaned, “yes, Nico,” when he laved over the sensitive peak.

He was so turned on by her. By her confidence in knowing what she wanted and that she trusted him enough to tell him. Not to mention the way his name was panting out of her mouth.

Her back arched, pushing her hips into his hand and her breast into his mouth.

If Nico had known pleasing a woman could come with instructions like this, it would have changed his whole life.

He moved to the other breast, almost suckling at the tender bud.

“Fuck, Nico,” she moaned, “feels so good.”

“Show me how to take you there.”

“Put your fingers inside me.”

He obeyed even though he didn’t know how he’d stroke her clit now. Just as he was getting ready to detach his other hand from her breast, she guided his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed into her.

“Nico,” she moaned as pleasure flooded her system. Her hips ground into his hand. He felt incredible. God, was this what she’d been missing every time a man asked what she wanted and then did what they wanted anyway?

Her next words fell apart just as she did, turning as nonsensical as her rhythm.

Even watching the pleasure roll over her face didn’t prepare him for the feeling of her coming. He'd never felt anything like it. Her muscles clenched in quick succession, fluttering around his fingers. Fuck. If she did this around his cock? He might die.

All at once, the pleasure surging through her snapped, and she collapsed against him.

Nico eased his fingers from her and eased them up to his mouth, eyes rolling back at the first taste of her. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

Before he could suggest they move to the bedroom, she was curling against him and tucking her face into his neck. Her breathing slowed. It was late - well past her usual bedtime, and Nico knew how a good orgasm could relax his body right to sleep if he was already tired.

“I love you,” she whispered into his neck.

A thrill zinged through him. “I love you, too,” he said, stroking a hand up her spine.

Upon waking, the first thing Lena noticed was that her breasts were bare, nipples puckered so tightly in the chilly morning air that they ached. Somehow, though, the rest of her wasn’t cold.

Trying to roll over, she ran into a solid body behind her.

The night before came crashing back. Nico posing for her before admitting he loved her. He loved her! Part of her still couldn’t believe it. She smiled, remembering the incredible way he looked falling apart beneath her before he teased the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had from her body. So incredible, she’d fallen asleep right in his lap. He must have moved them into this spooning position on the couch rather than moving her into her own bed.

Her phone trilled again. That’s what had woken her. Where was it? It sounded nearby.

Nico mumbled something and tightened his arms around her when she tried to get up.

When it rang for the third time, she realized it wasn’t ringing at all - it was her alarm. She needed to get up. As much as she wanted to just stay here and recreate the night before again and again and again, something Nico wouldn’t have minded if his hot length currently pressing into her back was any indication, she couldn’t. She had to show Professor Brown her sketches, and she had a painting to turn in in her post modernism class.

“Nico, I have to get up,” she said, lifting his arm from around her waist. Her chest was itchy from where his cum had dried on her skin.

“Nonig,” he mumbled, pulling her back into him.

“Yes.”

Finally managing to extract herself, she immediately fell off the couch.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

God, he was adorable waking up. Mussed hair and heavy lidded eyes.

Nico didn’t want this moment to end. It couldn’t. It was too good. He watched, amused, as she tripped over her pants before tearing them down her legs and kicking them them off before she stumbled into the kitchen.

She finally found her phone — she’d left it on the counter — and cursed when she saw the time. She didn’t even have time to shower.

He groaned a pleasant curse in his native tongue and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head. Sleeping on the couch was definitely not going to help him in the game tonight.

He sat up abruptly. “What time?” he called.

“It’s 9:05. I have to go to class.” she said, debating if she should just pull her jeans on and go. No, if she couldn’t shower, she at least needed to change.

He cursed again, jumping to his feet. This was not how he wanted the morning after to go. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed and ravish her again before he had to leave. Now, he had to rush. Practice started in 30 minutes, and it would take him 20 to get to the rink.

He ran to his bedroom and stopped short. There was a suitcase next to his dresser. He’d forgotten he was heading out on a road trip.

Running his hands into his hair, he wondered how this could have happened. He would have to be at the arena before she got home from class, and then they would leave from there to catch their flight to Florida. He finally got her, and he had to leave. This was the worst morning after he could have imagined.

Attempting to run down the hall and pull on her chucks at the same time probably wasn’t the best plan, but Lena needed to see him before he left. She wouldn’t see him again for six whole days. Stumbling, she crashed through his doorway just in time to watch him pulling on a new pair of underwear. She finally got her other shoe on before she stood up, pushing her hair out of her face.

He turned to her, and she lost her breath. She’d seen him naked, and he still did this to her.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she said quietly.

He didn’t hesitate to stride to her, take her face in his hands, and kiss her deeply, like he’d wanted to for so many years. He was never giving up the opportunity again.

Gathering her against him, he broke the kiss in favor of burying his face in her hair. “I wish this morning was different.”

“I know, I do, too. But I’ll be here when you get back,” she assured, running her hands down his back. At the tail end of her stroke, she let her fingers curve in so her nails traced over his skin.

He pulled back to look into her eyes, cheeks dimpling.

A smile spread over her face, and she leaned up to brush her lips over his, “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He nodded.

“Good luck,” she said, kissing him again, “I love you.”

Maybe this morning wasn’t so bad after all. “I love you, too.”

The smile she gave him made him want to move mountains.

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to kiss him one more time.

“For what?” he called after her as she ran down the hall.

“For everything,” she called back. “For all of it.”

It Doesn't Matter:

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nh13 #nico hischier x oc #nico hischier fanfiction #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier x ofc #nico hischier smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey romance #hockey fanfiction #nico & lena #🥭anon #it doesn't matter au

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lukola4evs · 5 months ago

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So here’s my theory (subject to change)

Mom and Dad always had a soft spot for each other or “kind eyes” but could never act on it since 2019

L always referring Ross and Rachel etc.

They’ve always been friends, he ask N for advice on J etc. and even in season 1 or 2 promo (zooms she did) she was tearing up seeing her friend asks her questions.

Season 3 they dive in and get super emotionally connected.

Season 3 they fall in love as polin but also fall in love to the point where the blurred lines definitely have J/L break up.

Timeline during filming

Block 3 filming, episode 5/6 emotional mess so to speak if you catch my drift. J/L breakup nov/dec

Block 4 filming episode 7/8, flirty on set but no definite name to it.

Episode 8 riding scene (all lukola) and production could tell so that’s why we get montage cut.

But they are so bf/gf coded here

Liz (ic) gives them steps to walk away and make sure it’s real and they are distant but they do check in and they’re still in lurve with Photo Booth pic.

So N makes decision for them to walk away because Liz but also since she’s a jaded guarded Capricorn she needs to make sure it’s real for her and not just feelings from pen since it’s “such a profound experience”

L does hbs and parties his feelings away,

N and L post thirst traps for each other on ig last year. I’ll post pics later but she did one from New York and he did shirtless pics from R ig. (You don’t have to follow publicly to keep tabs)

They come back for reshoots dec ‘23 and they back at it like they meant to be but N still doesn’t let anything happen because polin 🙄

On March 2nd, 2024 N likes that zendaya posts saying about being an actor and falling in love with your costar.

Then press tour heats up. Back and forth messages hidden in promo (Ive rewatched 50 videos and the things you catch 2nd time around is crazy)

Now press tour - it was fun until Brazil and L only told N it was completely casual with A and not to worry about it.

They allowed themselves to fully soak up in each others energy because they are doing press as them. Not the characters. So they now know it’s not just an on set thing. Fucking Finally.

N ditched her side piece expecting L to do the same and he tells her he will, they love up some way or talk about feelings all Brazil, Toronto, Ireland, and part of london.

L is nervous af knowing a’s going to London premier and didn’t tell N outright. So in all london interviews he’s reaching out constantly to n (not only because he wants to now but because he’s worried whatever he and a have planned with his team is gonna be like a 💣 to N)

N ever the skeptic can since his bs (or maybe his lack of vulnerability when they were with her family) and eases back emotionally when she remembers too

London promo always throws me off part of the way. (Deliberately calling him bud - downplay what they have if he’s not gonna be serious or talking about showers to incite jealousy?)

But she can’t help when we see the 😍 either.

Pap pics drop she’s pissed next day. Post satc tt to be a bit vindictive

Lets it stay up for 24 hours.

L or someone reaches out and she makes the lukey newts fan club pr post.

Then for the first 6-7 days after it’s like they have coordinated posting. Always liking in 15 minutes or whatever.

Then in addition to this she lets the Polaroid be seen at ts to let us know it’s all good between them to the ga and shippers.

Fast forward to Wimbledon we see enough of the Polaroid to let us all on x know it’s a different one. And if we know it’s different from computer screens then so does L. Remember by now we know his notifs are on.

He’s got adhd and best believe when his love of his life is icing him out he’s gonna hyper fixate on everything he knows. Including a phone case he’s stared at for ages and constantly liking her stuff first thing when he wakes up.

Now n is icing him out, giving herself some time to do her and work.

Didn’t @ him on latest amazing thank you all posts which is usually her m.o. she tagged the pic but not in the captions is what I mean.

When they reunite after he deals with a he’s gonna have to make amends because Istg I know they are end game but I feel like he told her it was gonna be one way when it went sideways on her outta nowhere (she left after party super early even for having work next day)

Like he’s such a ppl pleaser the minute he got back with his friends he or someone decided that life isn’t his regular life and went back to friend group ways.

Posting more tomorrow. Didn’t realize this was so long.

LOVE x

#lukola #timeline #theories #bury me beneath the restaurant #waiting for December #luke newton #nicola coughlan

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lightwise · 10 months ago

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Full Circle - The Return to The Outpost

The Return is a masterpiece in visual, verbal, metaphorical, and situational parallel and payoff. We have been waiting for 3 long seasons to see Crosshair and his family come to terms with their choices, reunite, and move forward together, and this episode somehow manages to give us all of it by walking us point by point through the scene of Crosshair’s change of heart—The Outpost. Most likely the themes presented here will continue to be parsed out for the rest of the season, but their fulfillment is begun here.

We start with Crosshair outside of the ship, choosing target practice as a thinly-veiled excuse for avoiding his brothers. He is reunited, but not yet comfortable or fully trusted. In The Outpost, the scenes open with Crosshair outside of the ship on a smoking toothpick break, and he is approached by a Lieutenant who is decidedly not amenable to him. In both instances he is starting to be a little more open, however—his helmet is off, and in the first is listening to a group of regs, and the second, chatting with Omega and letting her show him physical affection.

After a reunion on everyone’s part with Echo, who we see fully embrace a hug from Omega, and slip back into familiar banter with Crosshair, we are taken to the dining area on Pabu. This is a callback to the dinner that the main group had when they first arrived on the island, except this time, Crosshair and Echo have come home, and there is an empty chair symbolizing the absence of Tech. This episode shows no other characters besides the Batch (now including Batcher as the best girl that she is). The conflicts and themes in this episode are meant to fully delve into the heart of what makes this family tick.

Barton IV is, as Crosshair states, a “remote, understaffed facility. It shouldn’t be a problem to infiltrate.” He can barely hold eye contact with Hunter while saying it, when once he was Hunter’s second. Hunter wants Omega to be safe and instructs her to remain behind, but she is adamant that they should stick together, just like she always has since joining them. Hunter almost looks like he’s going to cry, but he relents to both her demands and Crosshair’s input, although he is still suspicious of Crosshair’s motives.

Before they leave, Crosshair has his original Bad Batch armor returned to him by Wrecker. His old identity and loyalties, kept by his family the same way he never left their hearts. A contrast to his previous mission, where Crosshair and the other clones are considered “used equipment,” and their only purpose is to protect and retrieve the shiny new armor meant for their replacements.

As they make their way to the base, the weather also points to a drastic difference between the two episodes. In The Outpost, the weather is MISERABLE. Cold, stormy, clouded, dangerous. Crosshair’s inner turmoil at that time cost Mayday his life, and broke his allegiance to the Empire. But on their return it is clear, sunny, calm, settled—almost serene (on the surface). Crosshair has thawed and grown as a person, and his emotions appear to be in a much calmer, if somber, place. As they land, Echo states that there are no signs of life on the scanners.

The planet is a graveyard. A memorial. A resting place. Made to dredge up and bury.

A baptism. A resurrection.

They exit the ship, and a vulture shrieks overhead, a reminder of Crosshair’s failures. Crosshair lifts his head to look at it, and his shoulders slump. (There’s an excellent little explanation of the vulture symbolism here.)

Mayday had told him that the vultures are vicious creatures who find a way to survive. They bury the dead and they take the scraps and they clean up for everyone else. They are shunned but beautiful. And they survive. Against all odds.

The second the vulture disappears, tension between Hunter and Crosshair begins to spill over. While the others are happy to see Crosshair assuming his old identity, Hunter is suspicious that the planet is deserted yet still heavily guarded by sensor beacons, and rounds on Crosshair demanding explanations. Crosshair has willingly led them to the site of his trauma but he is NOT ready to talk about it yet, and matches Hunter snark for snark. According to him (he should know) the danger (local raiders) has been taken care of. Hunter is even more pissed off as he gets a glimpse of Crosshair’s activities under the Empire, and Omega is disappointed in both of them. Their feelings remain tense and tight as Echo convinces them all to get inside and focus on their mission.

Once inside, Wrecker asks a question that encapsulates the fate of all the clones.

“So why’d the empire abandon this place?” “I guess it served it’s purpose.” “Hmm, sounds familiar.”

This prompts Crosshair to separate from the rest and go to a side storage room, where he first comes across the same heater that Mayday had once carried over to him as a gesture of friendship. It is dark and dead now. A sweep of his flashlight, and an even more sickening sight awaits him. All of Mayday’s troopers helmets, once lined up in a silent memorial, are now in a pile on the floor. And Mayday’s is among them.

Crosshair must have known this was a possibility, coming back. He isn’t ready to talk about his feelings toward this place, but his face tells us all we need to know about his grief and his regret. He steps over and in reverence, greets the helmet of his friend. He understands now. Loss, grief, death. The burden that Mayday carried. Succumbed to. At the time, Crosshair had merely watched. Now he participates and gives Mayday and his squad the honor they are due. Hunter, who has become more and more suspicious of what Crosshair isn’t telling him, catches sight of his brother honoring a (supposedly) random group of regs, but slips away to not disturb him. Yet.

Crosshair rejoins the others as the sensors are turned off to redirect the power supply, and Batcher suddenly starts acting up. Crosshair takes her seriously, although he is forgetting something important that Mayday once told him—“you’ll freeze to death in that armor—if what’s in the ice doesn’t get you first.” Typically this is Hunter’s job, to be alert to shifts in the environment, but he is so focused on Crosshair “leaving” that he seems to be completely unaware of something stirring outside.

Crosshair walks out both to scout and to process his feelings, and is greeted with an up close look at the ice vulture that has haunted him. He starts to scowl and as the bird takes off, asks “are you going to be my shadow everywhere?” A statement that could hold true for both the vulture and Hunter, who has followed him. And Hunter gets right to the heart of it.

“I know you,” he says. Or I did, before you became someone I don’t recognize. Someone who would betray us and leave. “There’s more you’re not telling us. Start talking. What did you do to get on the Empire’s bad side?” Hunter needs proof. He wants to know how the brother who swore loyalty to the Empire thrice over and stayed on that Kaminoan platform had a supposed change of heart. But he frames it bitterly, believing that Crosshair is simply repeating a pattern—one that had almost made them enemies.

Crosshair’s hand shakes so much that his toothpick slips (like the sharp and pointed wit that often protects and comforts him), and we see a rumbling in the ice. Their emotions are starting to bubble and seethe.

“You thought we’d take you back and not ask questions? I don’t think so.” Hunter is losing his grip on his emotions and physically shoves Crosshair in an attempt to spark the fight. His face is drawn, angry, and anticipating hurt.

Crosshair remains remarkably calm, not even necessarily wanting to make an argument out of it, but he eventually responds to Hunter’s indignation with his own. And this time he doesn’t hold back. He starts at the end, admitting he killed an Imperial officer, but holds the tender explanation of why close to his chest still. Instead he tells Hunter what he thinks he wants to hear—that his betrayal of the Empire mirrors his betrayal of the Batch. Except Crosshair adds his own perspective—that he only betrays after feeling like he has been betrayed first.

Hunter doesn’t have time to ponder that information as Crosshair now unleashes the root of his own turmoil onto him—and he knows how to hit Hunter where it hurts. Where he’s failed.

“I risked EVERYTHING to send you that message! You ignored it. You let Omega be taken to Tantiss.” The hurt blooms on Hunter’s face. “You failed.”

Crosshair isn’t even concerned about what happened to him on Tantiss. He’s concerned about Omega. And he knows that fact will twist Hunter’s gut in ways nothing else can. Hunter is their leader. He by default bears the blame of what happens to them, even though his squad makes their own choices freely. Crosshair doesn’t want to let him forget it. Hunter never lets himself forget it either.

Both men only know their own sides of the story. And it’s tearing them apart.

They’re ready to trade blows but their attention is pulled back to their family and larger circumstances by Batcher barking. Hunter finally realizes where their emotions have brought them, but it’s too late. The snow erupts from a giant wyrm creature, no longer kept at bay by the high-pitched hum of the sensors. No matter the gulf between him and Crosshair, Hunter’s first priority is to shove him away screaming “move!”--echoing Mayday trying to save Crosshair during the avalanche. They fall to their knees and the ground splits between them. They barely make it back to the base as the symbol of their outburst chases them across the snow.

Plans are made. The squad won’t be safe until this threat is dealt with. Each member volunteers their strengths. Hunter is in mission mode now, his face open, and extends an olive branch after his brother offers to shoulder the burden of leading the creature back beyond the perimeter alone. “We’ll do it together.” But now it’s Crosshair’s turn to be suspicious. Will Hunter really trust me again? Can I trust him?

The creature follows them. Disaster strikes. Hunter shrieks and falls below the ice. All animosity gone, Crosshair rushes to him, panic lacing his voice. Hunter! I can’t lose you the way I lost Mayday, buried beneath the snow.

And now, it is Hunter’s turn to tunnel into the darkness below the ice and face everything he’s been running from. Shot for shot, Crosshair has already been on this journey, already faced himself, his fears, his failures, down there. They can’t reconcile their perspectives, because Hunter has yet to do the same. Hunter commits to making sure that the wyrm is led away from his family, putting himself in harms way to make sure they stay safe. However, he has a safety line—Crosshair and Batcher up top, tracking him, covering for his usual role.

“We found a weak point in the ice. We’ll try to dig through.” “You’ll try?” Their old banter makes a hesitant appearance. Hunter is still running. Crosshair is willing to try, as long as that effort is acknowledged. But despite their words, they hope that they won’t let each other down this time.

“Am I going to have a way out or not?” “If you end up where we hope you do.” Hunter needs reassurance of an outcome first. But Crosshair reminds him that he is the only one who can plot his path, and its consequences. Hunter has to take responsibility for his own journey. The way out of this predicament hinges on how far, and where, Hunter lands. And he won’t take shortcuts, even when Crosshair begs him to go ahead and exit the tunnel once they find each other. He begged Wrecker to get Tech back onto the railcar. This time, he’s in the trenches himself.

Tuned into his senses again, Hunter still doesn’t jump even as he feels the wyrm get closer, until the sensors are reactivated. Finally, he accepts Crosshair’s to help pull him out of the literal mouth of danger as the worm barrels into view. And they run again, leaping to safety just in time, having accomplished their mission. The wyrm is now harmless, roaring at them from the other side of the perimeter, chastened until it finally slinks away.

The boys collapse, share a fully open look. All they need now is a nod. They have each others’ backs. Approval, gratitude, and trust now have space to grow. They are brothers again.

And Crosshair gets a redo of his trek back to the platform, except this time, instead of Mayday dying in his arms, Hunter is by his side, unharmed, and Batcher prances alongside them. Instead of silent TK Troopers and the insolent sneer of Lieutenant Nolan, they are greeted by Echo and Omega’s shining faces, and Wrecker running to meet them (and hug them. We all know they secretly loved it.)

(Side note: both Crosshair and Hunter have shown self-sacrifice on behalf of someone else in these parallels. Behind the scenes, Echo and Omega have a conversation that hints at the fact that Omega might be contemplating the same. The outcome of the guilt and confusion shadowing her even while Crosshair returns to the light remains to be seen, but it does not bode well.)

The episode could end here. But it doesn’t. Now the real conversations can begin. It’s late in the evening and they have dug their ship out in order to depart. Bathed in warm light, Crosshair is finally ready to open up, at least a little, although he can’t face Hunter in the process.

“I thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire.” Owning up to his perspectives, not shifting blame. It was a choice he made. “I’ve done things. I’ve made mistakes.” Ones that he regrets. Crosshair's default is still to paint himself in the worst light possible when trying to reconcile with someone, in the hopes that the darkest parts of him will be accepted. He so desperately wants to be accepted for who he is, even when he knows he has done terrible things, and maybe especially, because he hasn't fully forgiven himself for them yet. So he tries to shock and hurt in the hopes that either his inner self-loathing will be corroborated, or his need for forgiveness can come from an outside source.

And Hunter does forgive him, and doesn't even dwell on the many, many things he could blame Crosshair for, now that his own anger has passed. He acknowledges that he has regrets too, gives an even playing field by saying that none of them really had full information of what was going on when their separation first began, and extends solidarity in the best way he knows how.

A smoothing of the path behind, and a glimpse toward the path ahead. He doesn't know what it holds either, but he's willing to walk it together.

And I think their choice of words is what they needed from each other. Hunter needed to know how Crosshair viewed his own actions. Crosshair needed to know how Hunter felt about the consequences, both those caused by him and those caused by Hunter’s own choices since. Hunter has always questioned his brother’s perspectives—his mind. Crosshair has always questioned his brother’s heart—his loyalty. Their strengths--and also their weaknesses.

“All we can do is keep trying to be better. Who knows? There might just be hope for us yet.”

And for now, it’s enough. Crosshair looks into the sky, watches the ice vulture flying overhead once again, except this time, it flies off into the sunset, leaving him still mournful, but slightly more whole than when he first arrived.

�� Tag List ✨

@drafthorsemath @freesia-writes @sunshinesdaydream @the-bad-batch-baroness @heyclickadee @the-little-moment @ladyzirkonia @jedizhi @burningfieldof-clover

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hollowbutcanlove · 2 months ago

Text

Words feel like… Part III

iso x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, cunnilingus, Cypher knows a little more than the others, difficult experiences, pain, not very human experiences.

18+ only

words: 1828

a/n: the abilities of Y/N are taken from my OC. in short, she can take on the appearance of other people and creatures, as well as copy their abilities.

pt I pt II pt IV pt V pt VI

Sunday started with a call from Brimstone, who called you for an unscheduled assessment of your abilities. Since you have been in the protocol not so long ago and know little about your abilities and their implementation, before the mission they decided to call you for some kind of another test in the training area where the bot Max lived. You took your time because you knew they weren't going anywhere. But you wanted to rest for an extra couple of minutes before this event.

Nevertheless, closer to the appointed time, you still came to the site, where Viper, Bristone, Sage and… Omen? It's strange to watch him, because usually only these three and a few other people were present. Including Killjoy, which you haven't been watching right now.

"Here I am! " - a panting girl came in after you. If you remember the sun, that's a ray. She had some strange devices in her hands that you hadn't seen before. - " I have collected something that will help you track the change in vital signs in the process of your transformation into another person. As well as a few other important things, the names of which obviously won't tell you anything. "

"I can only assume that your ability to copy your appearance and abilities has something to do with the phenomenal rate at which your DNA transforms. And the radianite that created this anomaly gives you the ability to use your copy volume abilities as well,” - Viper concluded, - ”But that's for living people. Today we want to see if you can use your abilities to interact with… questionably living beings."

"Is that why Omen is here? "- you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Yes,” - Viper nodded and continued. - "I've asked Killjoy to design a device. Now we'll hook it up to you and we can get started."

The dark-haired German immediately began unraveling the wires and attaching the analyzers to you: on your arms and legs in the form of bracelets, some in the form of suction cups attached under your clothes and on your head. You were a little uncomfortable. The suction cups felt like they were about to fall off, making you uneasy.

"Omen, Y/N. You may begin."

"Just a second,” - Killjoy said, then typed something into her laptop computer. - "It's okay now."

You exhaled, then walked over to Omen. He had always seemed kind of intimidating and mysterious to you, so you had little contact with him outside of general events. He stared at you for a while, waiting for you to act.

"A hand,” - you asked. Normally, touching any part of your body was enough, but you didn't know what was best, so you asked for his hand.

Omen silently held out his clawed palm and you touched it. As you concentrated on taking his form, you began to feel unpleasant goosebumps and shivers. Though the transformation itself took mere milliseconds, it lasted longer for you because of the vivid sensations. But something was wrong. You immediately began to feel painful tingles all over your body that seemed to grow stronger and stronger with each passing second. You felt as if you were about to be torn apart. Something began to beep loudly; you turned toward the sound and saw the red color on the monitor screen and an error sign.

"Oh, shit,” - Killjoy was trying to fix the problem, and you were staring around in bewilderment.

The voices were getting louder, then quieter. The intermingling of the voices made you shriek and clutch your hands to your head. Perhaps because you are human by nature, you felt Omen's every moment was like an eternal, all-consuming agony.

"Y/N, return your form! "- Viper shouted sternly.

You tried to focus on returning, but nothing was working. You backed up and almost crashed into Killjoy. Through the pain, you touched her. It was easier to take on someone else's form than to return to your old one. Within moments, you were relieved, though the pain still lingered throughout your body. You were breathing hard, your heart racing, your pupils fluttering. It was a sensation you couldn't forget. They were terrifying, frightening, unbearable. You felt empathy for Omen.

"The readings showed an extremely high exaggeration of norms,” -Killjoy began. - "Even the program gave an error. That's…something…interesting. I'd like to work on this device some more and repeat the experience."

"I'm not ready,”- you sobbed. - "It hurts like hell. I thought I was gonna die. How did I not faint from the painful shock?"

"Sage was your insurance."

"Thank you,” - you nodded. -" I think… It's… Ah… How to say… Because of the difference in our natures?"

"Because you're human, it's hard for you to take on the form of Omen. I understand,” - Viper nodded. - "Maybe it's a temporary effect and can be trained. What do you think?"

"I don't know,” - you shook your head.

"We'll find out. In time. When you're ready."

"Wouldn't that be cruel to her? "- Sage asked.

"This world is cruel, Sage. So why should we be? Especially such an interesting specimen. Perhaps we can better understand Omen's nature."

"If you want, we'll bring you something for dinner as an incentive,” -Killjoy asked, looking away from the computer. - " You need to rest and some sweetness will help with that."

"A milkshake and some cherry scones,” - you exhaled, starting to take in your appearance.

"Copy that!"

"You can go, get some rest,” Brimstone nodded and began to discuss something with Viper and Sage.

You didn't listen and left immediately. The pain you'd been through was still lingering. You had to stop sometimes to catch your breath. You wanted to relax and take your mind off it. And a crazy idea came to you.

When you reached the common living room, you looked around. Fade and Neon had just disappeared from the kitchen, talking furiously about something. You exhaled, marveling at how fortunate the circumstances were. You knock a few times, and the door opens. Iso shows up in front of you, in his house clothes. He was out of the shower, you could smell it in the room from the humidity of his wet hair and the smell of his shower gel, which admittedly was quite tasty. He let you inside and immediately closed the door.

"Sorry for the suddenness of it,” - you apologized and sat down on the bed.

"I see you've been somewhere,” - he nodded. - "Tense conversation or practice? You don't look so good."

"Sort of. I don't want to talk about it yet. Why don't you just help me de-stress, please?"

"Hmm,” - he said thoughtfully. - "I think there's a way. Short, but effective. I'll have to run some errands afterward."

You didn't question him, since you weren't that close, so you just nodded, putting the initiative in your boyfriend's hands. Iso ran his hands through his damp hair before sitting down on his knees in front of you. His hands gently traced your thighs over the top of your pants, and then he stopped at the elastic band. You understood him without words and lay back, giving him the opportunity to remove your clothes. And you seemed to understand what he was getting at. You didn't mind, and it was interesting to see if the “beginner” could do it so well that you could have an orgasm.

His fingers traveled down your already bare thighs, making goosebumps run up and down your body. Anticipation began to build inside you as the guy teased your thighs.

"Didn't you say you had things to do afterward?" -you asked. - "I think we should hurry."

"These things don't like to be rushed. Enjoy."

Finally he moved to a more intimate area and began massaging your clit through the fabric of your underwear. You waited with interest to see what he would do next. After a few circular movements, he pushed the fabric aside and began to massage the folds directly. Pleasant goosebumps all over your body decided to gather in one place, causing light butterflies in your stomach. And while the first hand was working on the outside, the second hand started on the inside. Iso's fingers begin to explore the space inside you. Probing your walls, he simultaneously watches your reactions, trying to catch the moment when he finds the most sensitive spot, where the nerves from your clitoris' legs run closest to the walls of your vagina. (There's a reason he's read so much about it.) And when he finally finds that vulnerable spot, you twitch slightly at the incomprehensible feeling of pleasure. A light moan escapes your lips. He smiles.

You feel the fingers that had been massaging your clit being replaced by something wet and hot. You exhale noisily. Because of the stimulation of the sensitive point inside you, your clit is slightly more sensitive than usual. His free hand, still wet from your juices that it has managed to collect on the outside, finds itself on your thighs and squeezes them lightly. He then lets his hand go and places one of your legs on his shoulder, you repeat the action yourself already with the other leg. This in a way lets Iso sink deeper into you. You begin to feel the butterflies in your stomach start to move in a special way. Little by little, the orgasm creeps up on you after just a couple minutes of Iso's manipulation.

"Oh, I think I'm gonna...I'm gonna..."

Before you can say anything, a wave of orgasm rips through your body, and you involuntarily squeeze your legs together, causing the guy's head to be held captive. He stops and rests his chin on your lower abdomen, watching you breathe heavily and clutch his sheet. It was too good. What the hell is wrong with this guy? Is he using some kind of cheat codes or something? You didn't know. But the fact that he could make you cum so easily never ceased to amaze you. Doubts about what he said about his virginity were still growing.

"How are you? "- He asked, still holding you close and stroking your thighs.

"Fine,” -you exhale and unclench your thighs, -”I'm sorry."

"It's okay,” - he licked his lips, which made you blush, because his face was still wet with your juices and his saliva.

"Let me guess, this is your first time doing this, too?"

"Not exactly. I've been practicing."

"I'm afraid to ask what or who,” - you laughed, realizing he meant some kind of fruit or vegetable.

"Trade secret,” he picks up his pants from the floor and puts them next to you. - "And now I have to get ready. Today it's my turn to fly to the store with Killjoy."

"Good luck,” - you nodded, pulling on your pants. - ”Then, important note, vanilla milkshake. Just vanilla."

"Hmm?"

"I ordered a milkshake and scones from Kj."

"I'll take note,” - he nodded.

You managed to get to your room without incident. Except for Cypher's messages.

#valorant #valorant x reader #valorant x you #iso x you #valorant iso x reader #iso valorant #iso x reader

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cheezeybread · 6 months ago

Note

bruh your jamil l/n headcanons both cheered me the hell up after the day ive had and sent me down a rabbit hole of finding more jamil l/n; anyways i found this: https://www.tumblr.com/viperwhispered/747556026441695232/so-i-was-listening-to-being-low-as-dirt-taking?source=share

and now im like "yes give me assertive jamil"

so would you mind giving me hcs of jamil setting clear boundaries with his parents and being like "this is whats happening, this is whats gonna happen, either accept it and move on or i will never talk to either of you ever again and you will never meet any of your grandchildren"

meanwhile jamil's boyfriend is in the background just cheering him on and assuring him all like "dude go solo travel, go explore, go make a name for yourself, and when you've done what you wanna do then we can settle down who cares about your parents anyways you overblotted cause of their shitty parenting"

Heck yeah, my man, anything for you! 🫡

𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 (𝐟𝐭: 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The idea to create clear boundaries wasn't Jamil's idea. He was content to leave it be after the wedding and just block his parents on everything, never go back home again, all that kind of stuff.

But you convinced him that he wasn't eing entirely fair to his parents. If he set the boundaries now where they knew them, then maybe his parents would change. And if they didn't, then Jamil could rest easy knowing that he did all that he could.

So begrudgingly, Jamil obliged, and the two of you went back to his home to speak with his parents.

Of course, his mother wanted you to wait outside of the room, claiming that this was a "Viper family matter", but Jamil cut her off, saying that if it was simply a Viper family matter, then he would leave as well, seeing as how he wasn't a Viper anymore.

Whoooo boy, was it an awkward situation for you to be in. But Jamil stood next to you the entire time, a hand around your back to put you at ease if you were feeling any sort of discomfort.

"Let me get this through your thick heads: my childhood was ruined, not because of this centuries-long servitude, but because my own parents didn't ever see me as their own child. You only ever told me praises about Kalim, never encouraged me to play with him how I wanted to play, never told me that you were proud of me, never told me that I could do whatever it was I wanted to do in life. I was just the next generation you used as a tool to continue on this stupid service to a rich family."

He told them the rules. They were not to speak badly about you, either behind his back or to your face, and that included passive-aggressive remarks. They were not to try and coerce him nor you back into their "family business". In short, they were told to mind their own business or else they would have NO contact with any grandchildren that might come around in the future.

Jamil's father interrupted him halfway through, claiming this to be absolutely absurd "We raised you better than this!" sort of thing.

Which is where you chimed in

"YOU didn't raise him at all! You taught him to be obedient and submissive to a child that wanted to be his peer simply because of their money! Do you even realize that Jamil overblotted because of you?? He almost DIED because you were too selfish and thick-headed to see past the ass-licking you do to the Asim family!"

That sure did rile the parent's tempers, but they couldn't find the words to say in retort.

Jamil took one last breath "We're going to go traveling. We'll find a new place in this world, the two of us. Someplace where we don't have to prostrate ourselves before the wealthy just to live. And if you two want to be a part of our new life, you may. But only if you abide by the rules and boundaries that I've set."

Without even giving them a chance to speak back, the two of you walked out of the house, returning back to your home as quickly as possible.

And even though it was hard, you could tell that a huge weight was now off of Jamil's shoulders.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil twst #twst jamil #jamil x reader #jamil twisted wonderland

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vodika-vibes · 2 months ago

Note

Veetch x reader with the prompt "You're safe now"?? Maybe something where Mayday and his men (including crosshair cuz he will forever deserve a happy ending) are finally rescued from Barton IV. Whether they're saved by Imperials or rebels is up to you.

Safe And Sound

Summary: As a member of the Rebellion, you’re often sent to random places without much notice. Still, you never expected to spend your Name Day on an ice ball in the middle of nowhere. And then the galaxy gives you the greatest Name Day present.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Veetch x F!Reader

Word Count: 2742

Warnings: Some angst, but there's a happy ending

A/N: This made me weepy in some places, just as a warning

Click HERE to be added to my Taglist

Once upon a time, you had the greatest boyfriend.

Veetch was slow to anger and quick with a laugh. Was always there with a willing ear to listen to your troubles, and a strong shoulder when you needed to cry. He used to cup your face between his hands and tell you that it was amazing that he could hold the galaxy in the palms of his hands.

He had always been so gentle with you, careful fingers tracing your lips, the bridge of your nose, your eyelids. It was like he needed to prove to himself that he was capable of being gentle.

And he loved you. Oh, how he loved you. It was in every touch of his hand against your body, every press of his lips against yours, every whisper of your name in the dead of night.

Your Veetch had been so strong and so steady, that you believed that nothing could hurt him. How could it? Veetch was like a mountain, unyielding in the face of everything thrown at him.

Yet even the strongest mountains don’t last forever.

When the Purge happened, you had been visiting family. You watched the news while your little brother clung to you. You listened to report after report of how the Clones saved the Republic by putting an end to the treacherous Jedi, and you doubted.

And yet, even then, you still believed in Veetch. He would be fine. He had to be fine.

He’s Veetch.

And yet, as days turned to weeks and then months, and Veetch never contacted you that hope you carried in your heart began to wither like a rose in the winter.

Part of you hopes that he died in the Purge. It’s a horrible thought, but the idea of your Veetch, your gentle and loving Veetch, becoming an Imperial Solider, or worse a Purge Trooper, makes your heart clench painfully.

“Hey! Ace!” You’re jerked out of your increasingly depressed thoughts about Veetch, to look at the man standing in the doorway, “You got orders,”

“I was told that I have today off,” You counter. It’s your Name Day, after all. You had planned to spend the day mourning lost friends, and remembering what Veetch had done for your last Name Day.

“Yeah, I know.” He smirks at you, “They originally gave me the mission, but I’m sick.”

“You’re full of shit is what you are,”

His smirk widens, “If you wanted me to be nice, you should have agreed to date me.”

“Not even if you were the last man alive,” You snap, before you dismiss him outright, knowing that it will only make him angrier. Whatever, it’s not your job to manage his delicate ego.

You stand and your shoulder roughly bumps his as you walk through the door, “You know, Ace, you might be a good pilot, but you have a shit personality.”

“Good thing I don’t have to pilot my ship with my personality then,” You counter irritably.

“You’re gonna regret not being nicer to the people around you.” He adds, desperate to have the final word.

“I highly doubt that,” You say as you step onto the lift and press the button that will bring you to Ops. The door to the lift shuts before he can say anything to you, and you’re glad for it.

If he had insisted on continuing the argument, you might have become mean. Like, for real mean, and not the indifferent mean that you are normally.

The door slides open several moments later, and you step into Ops.

Ops is a large room, brightly lit, and filled with various monitors and monitoring stations. There are well over a dozen men and women working in Ops, managing different missions across the Republic. This place, right here, is the heart of the Rebellion.

You move to the side, to keep from being run over by a rust-colored Wookie who has their face pressed against a datapad, and then you slide between a Nautolan and a Mon Cala who seem to be having a deep argument in the middle of the walking path.

You finally make it to the leader of Ops, a Weequay woman who, rumor has it, was once a Jedi. She might very well have been, she’s definitely calm enough for it.

“I’m here boss,”

The woman glances at you out of the corner of her eye, and favors you with a tiny smile, “I know I promised you the day—”

“It’s fine,” You shrug, “What’s the job?”

She watches you for a moment longer, and then nods, “Pick-up, over on Barton IV.”

“That ice ball?” You make a face, “This isn’t another Hoth scenario, is it?”

“No. We didn’t lose a transport this time,” She reassures, “There’s an Imperial Outpost, I want you to grab anything you can from there.”

You quirk a single brow, “Infiltration isn’t really my thing, Boss.”

“I know, we’ve been keeping an eye on it, and I doubt there’s anyone there. The base hasn’t received shipments in about a year. If there are any survivors, rescue them and bring them to one of the neutral space stations.”

This time both of your brows raise, “You sure?”

She nods once, decisively, “Very sure. I won’t leave people to die if I can help it.”

“Well, you’re the boss, Boss. I’ll take a ship registered to Corellia then.”

She nods, “May the Force be with you.”

You sigh, “Boss if you don’t want people to peg you as a Jedi, maybe don’t say shit like that.”

Your Boss just grins, “Who says I don’t want people to know?”

You release a second, heavier, sigh. Then you wave and turn to head toward the lift that will bring you to the hanger. If you’re lucky the Corellia Class freighter will be available.

Barton IV is, quite possibly, the worst planet Veetch has ever been on. And, after a year of living here, he’s quite sure that he’s allowed to have an opinion on living here.

It’s cold, there’s never enough food, and he’s fairly certain this place is haunted by the spirits of fallen vod’e.

Though, that might be the hunger talking.

They have managed to turn one of the bunks into a relatively warm place for them to sleep. There are only four of them now, so it’s pretty easy to keep this room warm enough for them to bunk together.

He wonders if it makes him a bad person that he’s glad that most of his brothers marched ahead already. He wouldn’t want any of them to suffer like he is right now.

Slowly Veetch presses his arm over his eyes. His brothers are already asleep, but he just can’t seem to rest.

Of course, he knows why he can’t sleep.

It’s the day.

Today is her Name Day.

Veetch squeezes his eyes shut under his arms, and her face swims into view. A bright smile on her face, her hands clasped under her chin. Veetch! You didn’t have to do all of this for me!

He misses her.

He misses her warmth. Her smile. The way her eyes crinkled at the corner when she was truly happy. The way she tapped her foot when she was annoyed.

He even missed the way that she would apply her make-up in the morning, and the way that she would drag him to go window shopping on her days off.

But, what he missed more than anything, was how she would light up the moment she saw him. Even if he was tired, sweaty, and in a bad mood. Even if he still had blood on his armor. Even if he felt like a monster.

She would light up, call his name, and everything bad would vanish like smoke on a windy day.

If he was with her today…he would have made her favorite breakfast. Waffles with bacon and a cup of caf. They would cuddle together on the couch while eating breakfast and would watch a bad movie just to make fun of the bad acting. And then, while she got ready for the day, he would clean the kitchen.

Then he would have taken her to the library or to the aquarium, depending on the weather, and she would thread her fingers with his as she tugged him from one thing to the next.

And he would pepper kisses all across her face until she’s flustered and giggling, and her fingers are curled around the material of his shirt.

A muscle in Veetch’s jaw clenches.

Force, he misses her so much. He should have called her. Why didn’t he call her?

It’s a stupid question. He knows why he didn’t call her.

At first, it was because of orders, and then, as time went on, it was because he didn’t— doesn’t— want her to see him like this. He’s not dumb��or blind for that matter. He knows that she damn near hero-worshipped him.

She’d be disappointed if she saw him now. A scruffy five o’clock shadow, curls longer than they’ve ever been in his life and sticking up in random directions, and bruises covering the majority of his body.

He doesn’t look anything like the steady soldier she knew.

Veetch freezes when the base proximity alarm blares, and he sits up immediately. He’s not the only one.

Across the room, Mayday rolls off his bunk and lands on his feet, his gaze serious, “Veetch, get the monitors on,”

“Copy that, Commander.”

He rolls off the bed as well and crouches near the wall of monitors, activating each one manually. Each monitor is connected to a camera, not the most high-tech, but it’s the best they can do with what’s available to them.

“Here, Commander. The hanger bay,”

The four men watch as the hanger bay opens wide enough to let the person on the other side slide under the door. They then stand and pull a flashlight out of their flight suit.

The first thing Veetch notices is that the intruder is a woman. Even the winter flight suit she’s wearing doesn’t do much to hide her curves.

“That’s not an insurgent,” Crosshair notes, “They don’t wear orange.”

“They’re also not women,” Hexx adds, before he looks at Mayday, “What do you think?”

Mayday is quiet for a moment, and then he slowly nods, “I think we should go say hello.”

The four men pull their armor on and slowly make their way through frigid, poorly lit, halls until they reach the hanger. And the intruder's voice reaches Veetch’s ears.

Her voice is familiar.

Achingly familiar.

“—Come on, boss. I know what the information said,” The woman sounds annoyed as she opens crates, peers into them, and then shuts them again, “But I’m telling you, there’s nothing here.”

There’s silence for a moment, she’s likely listening to someone on the other end, and the four men step into the hanger properly.

Veetch’s heart aches when he sees her. He’d know her anywhere, wearing anything.

She sighs, “Don’t you Ace me, you irritating little cabbage,” She snaps, “I’m well aware that everyone wants to think that the Empire is made of incompetent dunderheads, but obviously they’re not because there’s nothing here.”

She’s silent again.

“What?! No! I’m not defining dunderhead for you, you have a computer, look it up!”

She straightens, and her posture changes.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be real professional when I get back to base and shove my boot so far up your ass that you’ll be tasting them. I’m closing the comm now. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

Veetch watches as she irritably presses a button and shoves her comm in a pocket, and the tiniest smile crosses his face. Her temper has gotten worse since the last time he saw her, she’s adorable.

Hexx swears as he accidentally kicks a metal bar, and she whips around, the beam of her flashlight immediately finding them. There’s silence for a moment, and then she sets her fist on her hip, “And who are you supposed to be, knock-off mummies?”

The silence continues for a moment, and then Veetch releases a snort of laughter. He has to quickly mute his vocoder, but he’s not the only one. Hexx is also shaking with laughter, and Mayday is shaking his head.

If he wasn’t wearing his helmet, Veetch would put credits on there being an amused smile on his brother’s face.

“I remember you being nicer, princess,” The Commander says.

She’s silent for a moment, and then the beam of light drops to Mayday’s chest, and a wide range of emotions cross what little of her face can be seen. Though her expression finally settles on sheepish embarrassment as she pushes her goggles up, “Mayday,” The light moves across Crosshair, and then over to Hexx, “Hexx, and—” The beam of light finally lands on him, “—Veetch.”

He knows he didn’t imagine the pause before his name. And, as he pulls his helmet off, her pretty eyes linger on his face for a moment, “Hey there, sunshine.”

Her lips curl up in a pleased smile, “Hey yourself.” Her gaze lingers for a moment longer, and then moves back to Mayday, “Nice place you have here. Digging the abandoned Haunted House ambiance.”

Mayday smiles at her, “What brings you to this part of the galaxy?”

Her gaze slides across the four men for a moment, and then she glances around at the worn-down hanger, “Well, I’ve come to bring you to safety if you want.”

“You…what?” Crosshair sounds stunned, “NatBorns don’t care about clones.”

“You’d be surprised at how untrue that is.” She shrugs, and slides her flashlight back in her pocket, “My ship is just outside. Are you coming or aren’t you?”

Veetch is moving before he thinks about it.

He’d follow her anywhere, honestly, but he’d also sell his arm to get off of this planet.

The Space Station you bring the four survivors to is technically a Neutral Space Station, but it’s also a known hub for members of the Rebellion. You should have brought them to a different space station.

Your boss is going to have your head when she finds out.

But…well…it’s Veetch. It’s Veetch and Hexx and Mayday and they’re family. How could you go anywhere else?

You pace in front of Veetch’s room, trying to work up the nerve to go and see him. You’ve already visited Mayday and Hexx, you’ve even visited Crosshair to introduce yourself and make sure he didn’t need anything.

But now that you’re standing in front of Veetch’s room, you find yourself anxious.

What if things have changed? They haven’t for you. You love him as much today as you did a year ago. But what if he doesn’t feel the same anymore?

You take a deep breath to steel your nerves, and you knock, lightly, on the door. You don’t wait for a response as you push the door open and step into the room.

He’s thinner than you remember, but he’s still Veetch. And you kind of like the wild curls, you wonder if you can convince him to keep them.

Though, the stubble has to go.

“Veetch,” His name is a sigh on your lips, and his dark eyes find you immediately. Something softens in his gaze, and it’s like nothing has changed. You cross the room to him and lightly sit on the side of the bed, your fingers carding through his curls.

“You look beautiful,” Veetch murmurs, “More beautiful than I remember.”

“I’m the same as I ever was,” You reply, “I like your curls.”

“Maybe I’ll keep them,” He reaches up to cup your face, and you notice that his hands are trembling.

You press your hand over his, “How are you feeling?”

“I keep thinking that this is a dream,” He admits, “That I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”

Slowly you lean in and press your forehead against his, “Oh, Veetch.” You murmur, “Please don’t fret. You’re safe now.”

His hands press firmer against your face, “Cyar’ika, do you still love me?”

“Silly man, I never stopped.”

“Good,” He leans in and catches your lips with his own. “I love you too.”

And, as you lose yourself in his lips and his gentle touch, it’s like the last year never happened. You know that there’s a lot that needs to be done, but for now, you’re content with just being with your Veetch.

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#star wars #tbb #clone trooper veetch x reader #veetch x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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bbrissonn · 1 year ago

Text

𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐲 - 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

in which even if you've been there the longest, you'll always be second to her

disclaimer: english is not my first language and this is not proofread so please excuse any errors and if any words are missing add them in your head :) also this is a work of fiction, this doesn’t reflect how these boys act in real life, and it isn’t how i imagine them acting

warnings: angst, swearing , not proofread

pairing: cole caufield x reader

wc: 5.4k (including lyrics)

a/n: the end is complete shit, but i really wanted to be done with this fic cause ive been working on it for like a month now so yeah sorry about that

guts masterlist

Lacy, oh, Lacy, skin like puff pastry

Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell?

Dear angel Lacy, eyes white as daisies

Did I ever tell you that I’m not doin’ well?

Ever since you could remembered it had always been you and Cole, the first picture taken of you two was the day of your birth, two days after Cole’s. Your dads meet at work, and quickly became best friends, and so did your moms when they met. When they all found out they got pregant around the same time, they were over the moon, already knowing their kids would be best friends.

And they were right. The two of you spent everyday together, your moms always taking walks with the two of you when you were still babies. When you became toddlers, playdates happened almost every evening when you’d get back from daycare. Cole was by your side when the two of you started kindergarten, graduated elementary school, started middle school, graduated middle school, and when you started high school. You were there for each other through it all.

You went to Cole’s games every weekends and week nights, even going away for a tournament with him and his family during spring break of 8th grade. It was like your two families became one the day you were born, something neither of your parents minded. The longest period of time you were apart was maybe five days when you went to visit your grandparents out of town in 9th grade.

Of course, that all changed when Cole made the NTDP team, meaning he would have to move to Michigan for the whole season. You were happy for him, obviously, but the fact that you’d be losing your best friend pained you. The two of you promised to talk everyday, but of course things always got in the way with his busy schedule and you started to work a part time job.

Eventually, your daily phone calls turned into weekly phone calls, and then every two weeks, and eventually you wouldn’t hear from him for a whole months some times. It hurt, of course it did, you always saw his snapchat stories of him and his new friends having fun, messing around, and he couldn’t even find the time to send you simple text.

You didn’t really understand where his sudden lack of communication came from, but it all quickly made sense when you found out from his brother that he had gotten a girlfriend, one that clearly wasn’t comfortable with how close the two of you were. You had cried in Brock’s arms that night, Cole couldn’t even bother to tell you himself about this, instead finding out from Brock when he was in town for a game.

When your mom told you Cole would be coming home the next week, your reaction confused her. You didn’t show any signs of happiness at the thought of being reunited with your best friend, instead just shrugging and mumbling a small okay. Later that night, your mom called yours, and she was as surprised as your mom about your reaction, neither you or Cole had mention about a falling out, and the two of you barely ever argued.

Cole’s mom questioned him when he came home, asking if anything had happened between the two of you, the boy quick to answer with a simple no. He hadn’t asked to stop by your house before going home, something he always did when he’d come back from an away tournament, something she found really odd.

When your parents mentioned going to the Caufield’s house that night for dinner, you lied and said you had work. Your parents questioned you about it, you hadn’t mentioned having a shift that night, so you lied again, saying you had to cover for someone else’s shift. They didn’t believe you, at all, but clearly going to see Cole wasn’t something you wanted to do, so they didn’t push it.

You didn’t hear from him the whole summer, but to be fair, you hadn’t reached out to him either. It was like he became a total stranger in the last year, slowly slipping away from you, and he did nothing to stop it.

But that all changed the day before he left to go back to Michigan. You had woken up that morning with a text from him, asking to meet up at your usual spot at 11. You accepted, of course you did, all you’ve wanted since the boy left the previous year was to see him again.

You were sitting in the same booth the two of you always sat, watching your phone as the seconds ticked by. Then, 20 seconds before the clock hit 11, he walked in. His skin was tan, his hair a little longer than usually, the only thing that hadn’t changed was his height.

“Hey.” He spoke softly as he sat down in front of you. Your eyes were piercing through his as your mouth stayed closed. “It’s nice to see you.” He added once he realized you were not going to great him back. His words made you nod a bit as your eyes stayed focused on him. He looked so different, but he still looked like your Cole, the one you spent every second of every day with for sixteen years.

“Mhm.”

“I wasn’t sure you were gonna answer me, honestly.” He admitted, even the way he talked had changed. You finally looked away from him, and instead down at the menu. He knew you were doing it simply because you didn’t want to look at him, the two of you had gotten the same thing here ever since the first time you came after one of his hockey game.

“Wasn’t sure I was ever gonna hear from you, honestly.” You mocked him a little. The boy in front of you sighed as he looked down at the menu as well.

“I am sorry.” Was all he could say, making you scoff before looking back up at him. His head was straight, but his eyes were still staring at the menu.

“Fuck you, Cole. I haven’t heard from you in almost nine months and all you have to say is I am sorry?”

“I know, I know. I fucked up, okay? Trust me, I know. And I am so sorry, Y/N/N, it’s just Bella… She wasn’t comfortable with how close we were.”

“So you decided to pretty much just end our seventeen years of friends for some girl you just met? Thanks, Cole, that just makes me feel so much better, truly.” You spoke, your voice laced with sarcasm.

“I didn’t end our friendship-”

“Oh, then what was it? ‘Cause last time I checked, you just decided to not answer me anymore, without giving me any type of explanation. For fuck’s sake, I had to find out from Brock that you had a girlfriend. I though we promised we’d always tell each other everything! You could’ve just told me how she felt and I would’ve backed off instead of just cutting me off like that. How do you think I’ve been feeling since you left? Have you ever thought about that?” You said, making him go speechless. Luckily for him, a waitress came and took your order. Cole started, going with his usual, but his eyes quickly focused on you when he heard you select something else off the menu.

“You changed your order?”

“Yeah, you’d know if you hadn’t cut me off.” You sassed, making the boy sigh slightly before looking down at his lap.

“Y/N/N…” The boy sighed, his eyes looking back up at you. “I’m sorry, I really am. I shouldn't'… I shouldn’t have pushed you away, and I am sorry I hurt you.”

“You should be. I had to find out from Brock if you were even still aliv. Have you even thought about how I’ve been feeling? First, you leave, promising we’ll talk everyday, and then you cut me off like we haven’t been friends since we were literally born.” You said, tears starting to form in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. You had already cried enough because of you.

“I know, I know. I am so sorry, Y/N/N. Let me make it up to you, please.” He begged, and you could tell he was being honest. Nothing about his body language was showing you that he was telling you the truth, you just knew. You always knew.

“Promise me, when you leave again, you won’t do the same thing. Promise me, Cole.” It was now your turn to beg. You wanted nothing more in the world than to get your friendship back, but you did not want to get hurt again. You refused to get hurt again.

“I promise. I promise, Y/N.” He whispered, his eyes staring right into yours. You nodded slightly, sniffling a little, and the two of you sat in silence until your meal arrived. You slowly started catching up, Cole telling you about his new life in Michigan, while you updated him on all the drama from your high school. When the topic of his girlfriend came up, you stiffened slightly. You knew she was reason he had stopped talking to you, and you knew they were still together since you saw them not long ago. You only wondered if she knew he was here with you.

“Her name’s Alana, I really think you’d love her. She reminded me a lot about you at first, I think that’s why I was so drawn to her.” He explained, a smile you had never seen before plastered on his face. Those words were exactly the ones you didn’t want to hear. He hadn’t just pushed you aside, he replaced you. He found someone to fill the gap in his life that was missing.

“Your mom talks about her sometimes, she seems great.” You said, forcing a smile onto your face. The truth was, from what you had heard from Kelly, she was nothing like you. Not only physically, but also in the way she behaved. She seemed a lot more outgoing and high-energized, just like Cole.

They were a great match, you thought. Perfect for each other. But then, the conversation you over heard your mom having the night before while you were in the kitchen and she was in the living room replayed in your mind. Kelly claiming something felt off about his girlfriend, sometimes giving the family weird looks while she was at their house. In the moment, you didn’t think much about it, but now it kept playing in your head. Cole loved his family so much, they held a very special and important place in his heart, so would he be okay with his girlfriend not getting along with them?

You wanted to ask him, you really did, but you knew you shouldn’t. Questions about how you knew that information would be asked, and having to explain that you just overheard a silly little conversation your moms had on speaker phone would be weird to explain. So, you stayed quiet.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care

Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time

Watching, hidden in plain sight

And ooh, I try, I try, I try

But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere

The sweetest torture one could bear

When Cole left for Michigan again, your friendship was almost what it used to be. There were multiple things that hadn’t picked up again, like your weekly movies night cuddling on the couch in his basement. He has a girlfriend, he can’t just cuddle with a girl now, you had to remind yourself every time you’d think about it.

It felt weird, like the guy in front of you wasn’t the one you grew up with, like he was replaced by some stranger. But it was him, it was Cole’s eyes staring back at you, not some stranger’s, his smile lighting up the whole room, his voice echoing in the house. It was Cole, just not your Cole.

Thankfully, he had kept his promise of keeping contact with you, face timing you once a week, and texting you everyday. But it was all so different. He was always busy, either with hockey, or hanging out with Alana, and when he wasn’t busy, he was sleeping. It was hard, but it all changed when he came home from the holidays, alone.

Your families shared a Christmas evening, giving each other gifts, talking during dinner around the table and in front of the fireplace. Festive songs were playing the whole time, the volume so low you couldn’t hear it if multiple conversations were taking place. Eventually, you ended up in Cole’s room, laying on his bed as he sat on his desk chair.

“I have somethin’ for you.” He mumbled, sitting up and walking over to his closet. He pulled out a letter, your nickname written messily on the front of it. “Wrote it when we were, I don’t know, seven maybe. Found it when I came back last summer, thought it’d be a good time to give it to you.” He explained, handing you the envelope.

“You had a horrible handwriting when we were young, there’s no way I can read a whole letter of this.” You joked, pointing at the messy letters that spelt your name.

“Shut up and read the damn thing, Y/N/N.” He whispered, his cheeks turning a little red front your teasing. He was now next to you, sitting next to you as you pushed yourself up. You carefully opened it, pulling the letter out carefully.

Dear Y/N/N,

I donot kno when you will read tis but I want to tel you that you are my favorite person ever. You are a great bestfriend and I hope you will be in my lyfe for a long time. I realy enjoi when you come to my gamez, I play a lot bedder when you are tere. I think you are very prety two Jacob talk about it all the time. I wish when you read this we are stil bestfriend becoze I love you so moch.

Cole :)

You couldn’t help but laugh at the spelling mistake he had made, Cole was probably the worst kid in your class at spelling, while you were one of the best. You felt your heart warm up at the thought of seven year old Cole writing this, the sweet smile of his on his face as he messily wrote.

Cole was reading the letter over your shoulder, he hadn’t opened the envelope when he found it, wanting you to read it before him. His cheeks redden a bit again as he read the second to last sentence, coughing a bit as he looked away.

“That’s real sweet, Coley.” You whispered, looking over at him with a soft smile once you were done reading the letter. “Your spelling wasn’t cute, but you know, you learned.”

“Okay, considering I was seven, I think I did pretty good.”

“You did, you did.” You mumbled as you wrapped your arms around him, his going to your waist as the two of you sat there for a couple of minutes, holding each other close. Well, that was until you were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, Alana’s contact popping up the screen.

“Sorry.” He said, picking up his phone and leaving the room. You couldn’t help the heartache you felt as he left you for her, once again. It wasn’t right, you shouldn’t be feeling so jealous towards her for having his attention, but you were. You had been feeling this way ever since he left for Michigan, you didn’t understand it at first, but now it was all so clear to you.

You loved Cole the way he love Alana.

Smart, sexy Lacy, I’m losin’ it lately

I feel your compliments like bullets on my skin

Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate

Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?

The next summer, right before the draft, you finally met Alana. Her hair sat perfectly, her outfit hugging her perfect body as the two arrived at the restaurant. Your parents decided to have a night out to celebrate the two of you finishing high school, and of course since Alana was in town, she was invited.

You were sitting next to Brock, Cole in front of his brother and Alana in front of you. Your parents were in their own little worlds, your moms gossiping about who knows what, and your dads talking about sports like always.

“You look really pretty.” Alana said after a couple of minutes of the two of you being quiet and listening to the brothers. You were previously focused on the two, but your eyes quickly moved over to her when you heard her voice. It was so sweet, like an angel had just talked. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Cole look over at her briefly, a grin appearing on his face.

You knew she was trying to be nice, befriend you since you were such an important part of her boyfriend’s life. Yet her words made a bullet shaped hole form in your heart. A year ago she had pretty much forced Cole to leave you behind and forget you even existed, and here she was, trying to be all friendly and nice to you.

“You too.” You mumbled, thankfully the server arrived at the same time, taking your orders meaning your conversation witht he girl wouldn’t continue any longer.

“So, Alana, where are you going to college next year?” Your mom asked once all your plates had arrived and you all started eating.

“Wisconsin.” She answered with a smile, smiling shortly at Cole before looking over to your mom. Great. Now you’d be stuck having to see them together every single day next year. Fucking amazing.

In the car ride home, the only thing your mom was capable of talking about was how amazing Alana was. Alana this, Alana that. You were so fucking tired of hearing everyone talk about this girl all the time. You tried to block out her words until your name was mentioned.

“Honestly, Y/N, I always thought you and Cole were going to end up dating one day, but this Alana girl, god, she’s perfect for him!” She exclaimed, unaware of your burning crush for the youngest Caufield siblings. That was the last thing you needed to hear your own mother say. When you finally arrived home, you were quick to make your way to your room, locking the door and going to sleep.

The next morning you woke up to a couple of texts from both boys, but mainly from Brock, asking if you were okay and why you hadn’t answered either of them. Normally, whenever you wouldn’t text the siblings after telling them you would, Cole would text for hours, spamming you letters just so you would answer. One time, he almost came over to your house at midnight after you hadn’t text him for ten hours.

This time it was different thought. Cole had only left two messages, compared to the hundreds he used to send.

Hey you get home okay?

Are you alright?

That was it. No, do I need to come over? Did something happen? Is everyone okay? Answer me please. Nothing. Not even a good night, granted you didn’t text him that either, but it all just felt so weird. It was like your friendship was back, but with an obstacle that made it impossible for the two of you to go back to how your friendship was before he left for Michigan. The obstacle being Alana, of course.

You eventually texted them, telling the both of them that you had fallen asleep almost as soon as you got home and forgot to text them. Brock answered you almost immediately, while Cole didn’t answer you until later that night. You found out during the afternoon that him and Alana were spending the day together, just them, meaning all Cole was focused on was her. Not you, her.

Ooh, I care, I care, I care

Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots

You got the one thing that I want

Ooh, I try, I try, I try

Try to rationalize, people are people

But it’s like you’re made of angel dust

You never thought of yourself has a greedy person, well that was until Alana, of course. You hated her. You had been in Cole’s life since the beginning, literally, you were there for him through every step of his career, whether that be his first game to away tournaments. You were there for all of it. Until you weren’t.

You weren’t the first person he hugged after his game anymore, and you sure as hell weren’t the first he hugged when he got drafted by Montreal. You weren’t even in Vancouver, the boy completely forgetting to ask for a ticket for you. So, here you were, on your couch watching as Cole smiled brightly into the camera, the habs jersey engulfing him.

You knew it was rubbish, he shouldn’t have gotten picked at the fifteenth spot. He was so much better than many guys that got drafted before him, but you knew deep down why the teams had chosen them over him. He was too small. Guys before him were almost all at least half a foot taller than him, stronger than him, of course general managers and scouts would look at them before him. But if going fifteenth meant getting drafted by the Canadians, then you were fine with it.

When you were kids, the Caufield siblings would always talk about one day being the coach of the Canadians, even going as far as taking French classes in high school. Back then, you would all just laugh about it, but now here he was, getting drafted by them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so proud of him, this moment not even coming close to when he told you he made the NTDP squad.

Tears formed in your eyes as you watched your lifelong best friend, who felt like home and a completely stranger at the same time, accomplish his dream. Yet your heart ached as the camera showed his family, Brock and Alana sharing a hug as they all cheered for him. That should’ve been your spot.

You had been there for everything, and suddenly this girl just shows up and takes your spot? It made you angry, so angry. She had everything you wanted, she had the one boy you ever wanted. Knowing you’d have to be on the same campus as them next year only making it hurt so much more. You’d be stuck seeing her be with him every single day. See her enjoy having the one thing you’ve ever truly wanted.

You hated yourself for not realizing your feelings for the boy sooner, maybe if you had you’d be the one wearing his new jersey at the moment. Instead, you’re laying on your bed, Brock on the other line of the phone since Cole was apparently too busy to answer you.

“It was weird.” The oldest sibling stated, making you fur your brows slightly.

“What do you mean?” You questioned.

“Not having you there. It was so peaceful, I loved it.” The boy joked making you roll your eyes as a grin grew on your face. Brock laughed, clearly proud of the very sad joke he had made.

“It was so obvious I wasn’t there. I would’ve never let you walk out the hotel room with that suit.” You teased, making the boy gasp a bit.

“Was it really that bad?” He whispered after a couple of seconds making you giggle a bit.

“No. You looked great.”

“I am serious though, Y/N/N. It was weird not having you there. I know Cole will never admit it, but he regrets not inviting you, you know.” The boy told you, his tone going from a light one to a very serious one.

“Is it bad if I say I am not that mad I am not there?” You mumbled after a short period of silence. Your words confused the boy on the other end of the line.

“What? But you and Cole have been talking about this for years. He should’ve invited you.” Brock stated, getting a little worked up at the end. “You’re more family than she is.”

“She’s more important to Cole than me. She’s his best friend now, not me.” You told the boy. You had been thinking about it for a while, but saying the words out loud hurt so much more than you though it would.

“He’s being stupid. He remembered to invite some of our cousins we haven’t seen since we were babies, but forgot you? He’s so fucking stupid.”

“She doesn’t want me there. She thinks of me as like… an obstacle, I guess. I was getting in the way of her relationship with him at the beginning, she asked him to stop talking to me and he did. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked him not to invite me and he agreed.”

“Do you? Get in the way?” You knew he wasn’t asking it in a rude way. He just wanted to know if you had done something to make her act that way about you.

“No. At least I don’t think so. But if Cole would’ve told me before they started dating that he was seeing, I probably would’ve became one on purpose.” You admitted into the phone, leaving Brock a little shock.

“You love him?”

“Yeah. I hate her for taking him away from him, but she makes him so happy. She makes him happy, not me.” You cried out, tears starting to form in the brim of your eyes.

“Does he know?” The boy asked. You scoffed loudly, blinking the tears away before they fell on your cheeks.

“Of course not.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“And give her a reason to actually think of me as an obstacle and possible lose my friendship with Cole? Absolutely not.”

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

The first month of college surprisingly went quite smoothly, you barely ever ran into Cole and Alana. But that all changed when the first game of the season approached, Brock asking you to be there of course. Being so close with Cole meant you had also always been there for Brock’s big moments in the show. You were for his first USHL and College game, having to skip a little school sometimes. But now you had no excuse not to come.

So, here you were in the stands of the Khol centre, your friends standing next to you as the crowd cheered the Badgers on. Alana was sitting a couple of rows in front, sitting with the friends she had made over the last month and a half. You couldn’t help the jealously you felt every time your eyes landed on her, a Wisconsin jersey hiding her frame, C. Caufield written on the back.

Your feeling only grew stronger when you made your way down to where Brock had told you to wait, which was of course where Cole told Alana to wait for him. The two brothers came out at the same time, the girl next to you letting out a squeal when her eyes landed on Cole.

“You were amazing, babe!” She exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. Thankfully, the eldest sibling came in front of you, hiding the couple from your line of sight.

“Thank you for coming, munch.” He mumbled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you into his chest. He didn’t use that nickname often, only during moments where he was really thankful to have you there.

Your friendship with Brock was one you held so close to your heart, he was like the brother you never had, and you were the sister you never had. You could always talk to him about anything, whether that be something stupid you did, or just wanting to gossip. He had helped you with your nerves on your first day of high school, giving you a tour of the place himself before class started. He was one of your favourite person ever.

Another reason why you were so scared of telling Cole how you felt about him. What if that meant losing Brock as well, and their parents. You didn’t know how you’d survive without him in your life, he was somehow always right there when you needed someone, becoming more of a comfort person than Cole was.

“Let’s get out of here, I am hungry.” The boy told you after looking over his shoulder, getting glimpse of his brother and his girlfriend deep in a make-out session. He made sure you didn’t see them, but the sound of their kisses was something he just couldn’t hide from you.

“They’re disgusting, anyone could see them.” You mumbled as the two of you walked away from the couple, Brock’s arm still around your shoulder. The boy chuckled slightly as he opened the door for you.

“Be glad you’re not his roommate. Think I might have to invest in earplugs soon.” He joked, making a sour look creep up on your face.

“You can come crash at mine if you ever need, you know.” You told him. Brock had always been there for you, helping you through though situation, it was always fair for you to return the favour.

“Got place for an extra tonight?”

Lacy, oh Lacy, it’s like you’re out to get me

You poison every little thing that I do

Lacy, oh Lacy, I just loath you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

As the year went by, your feelings towards Cole’s girlfriend slowly became mixed. You couldn’t help but hate her, but you also envied her so much at the same time. You wanted to be her, you wanted to live her life. Be the most important person in Cole’s life, but most importantly have the boy look at you like you hung the moon.

But that was never going to happen. You would always be second in Cole’s life from now on, meaning you’d eventually have to move on from this overwhelming crush you had on him. Even if the two of them ever broke up, he’d find another girl to take her spot, a girl that wouldn’t be you either. You were his childhood best friend, and that’s all you were every going to be to him.

You hated it, but you eventually found yourself trying to become another version of Alana. Picking up on some of her little quirks and manners, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the older Caufield.

“You’ve been acting weird lately.” Brock stated as the two of you sat on the couch of his shared dorm apartment with Cole. You furred your brows slightly, lifting your head from his chest and looking at up.

“What? No I am not.” You scoffed, only making the boy next to you sigh.

“But you are. You switched your coffee order, the order you’ve had for four years. You switched from silver jewlery to gold, you’ve been doing your hair differently, you dress completely the opposite of how you used to. It’s like… it’s like your trying to become Alana.” He mumbled the last part. Now it was your turn to scoff.

“‘M not.”

“But you are. Gosh, Y/N/N, you even talked about dying your hair the same colour as hers. Look, if this is how you plan on getting Cole to look at you differently, you need to stop. Becoming someone you’re not isn’t going to help you, it’s only gonna hurt you.”

“Then what’s gonna help me, Brock?” You asked harshly, fidgeting with your fingers. The boy next to you sighed once again before answering you softly.

“You need to move on, munch. I know you don’t want to hear this, but Cole loves Alana. I mean yeah, he had like the biggest crush on you when you guys were in third grade, but he moved on, and so should you.” He explained softly. His words hurt, a lot, but you knew they were true. “Why not me? Why her, and not me?”

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#bri writes #cole caufield #cole caufield fic #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield blurb #cole caufield fluff #brock caufield #guts series

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