#i have a pair of jeans i lost for a while

[serenadeonacanoe]

Untitled, 2025 (GD x OFC) Chapter 9: Smut

Look, I couldn't help myself... it's only been three days but this basically wrote itself. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 🌼 Let me know what you think, it's been so nice to read. 💛

Pairing: G-Dragon/Kwon Jiyong x OFC Genre/Warnings: in this chapter: unprotected sex (idiots)

It’s 2025 and the King of K-Pop is back. He and his music are everywhere. On the charts, all over social media and smack in the middle of Maddie’s work schedule. Sometimes she still can’t believe this is her actual job now - documenting the chaos behind the scenes and trying to make sure no one on his team gets lost, bruised or accidentally starts a viral scandal.

What’s even harder to believe? That she and Jiyong met five years ago. Actually… scratch that. They met ten years ago too. Time has a weird sense of humor like that and things get blurry when you’re busy, nostalgic, and maybe just a little bit smitten. Also, life throws more daisies your way than you’d expect.

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

More on AO3

When I get to Jiyong’s apartment that night, it couldn’t feel more different from the night before. I’ve done my hair and makeup, I’m wearing a peach-colored dress and I’m a little nervous. Which is silly, maybe. But I can’t shake it.

Honestly, I’m glad we had last night. Without it, I might have been even worse.

When I reach for the keypad, I hesitate. Then I ring the doorbell instead. Perhaps it’s silly but the keypad is for work time only?

Jiyong opens the door with a startled face, then immediately relaxes. Apparently, he is also used to me just coming in, at least when he knows staff is coming over.

“Oh, shit. I thought it might be someone else” he says, pulling me inside before shutting the door. His hand lingers lightly on my back. Then his eyes sweep over my face and down my body. It’s not lewd, just… appreciative. A little surprised maybe. A knowing nod.

“You look beautiful” he says simply and kisses me. Just the softest brush of lips.

“Same” I murmur, because I noticed too. He’s just in a white t-shirt tucked into jeans. Nothing flashy, no statement piece, for him surprisingly simple actually and yet somehow - like always - he manages to make it look impossibly elegant.

Just like he promised, he had a plan.

Soft music plays through the speakers, there are fresh flowers on the table and warm light spills from a corner lamp. It’s not overdone, but it’s definitely on purpose. It feels special. And at first, maybe because of that, we’re both a little stiff. He keeps moving around, remembering things he forgot, distracted by details. I perch awkwardly around the kitchen, unsure whether to follow him or stay put.

It breaks when we start arguing over what to order for dinner. Somehow it makes us laugh. He admits he meant to cook and I shake my head in mild alarm, which makes him grin.

We end up eating in front of the window, plates on our laps, the city glowing beneath us. It’s in stark contrast with our clothes, but fun. We talk about our days. It’s not like we needed fancy clothes or candles to do this - we’ve eaten together in this apartment dozens of times before - but tonight it’s different. There are no phones between us. No talk of tomorrow. Just him and me, on an actual date.

The food is good. When we open a bottle of bubbly, Jiyong turns it into a performance - full of flair and mock elegance. I giggle. But then the cork explodes with way more force than expected and champagne sprays everywhere. His plate, my plate, my sleeve, my chest, even the side of my face and my hair get splattered.

The shriek I let out? Immediate regret. There’s definitely a premature ejaculation joke somewhere in this, but I’m proud of myself for pushing it away.

Jiyong curses, apologizing a dozen times even while laughing, caught between embarrassment and helpless delight. He quickly balances the dripping bottle and plates, whisking them to the kitchen to save the carpet. When he returns, it’s with an armada of kitchen towels, all bunched in his arms like a determined waiter at a fancy hotel.

“I can’t believe that happened.” he mutters, crouching in front of me with those pouty lips and a slightly panicked expression. He dabs at my chest, my arm, the side of my face - gentle, apologetic. My skin prickles at the closeness. “Well, that’s uncomfortable. We can’t have that. I’m so sorry. Let’s put the dress on the dry-cleaner pile and get you into something else, yeah?”

I nod, letting him help me up. The carpet seems to have survived. The cats, on the other hand, have disappeared - clearly traumatized by the champagne cannon. Jiyong clicks his tongue at one as he pulls me down the hallway toward his bedroom and the adjoining dressing room.

“I assume you don’t want Chanel, just something comfy?” he teases, already halfway to the racks. I nod again, glancing down at the damp peach fabric clinging to my skin. As much as I mourn the dress, sweats for the second night in a row honestly sound like heaven.

I sip the last of my drink while he rummages through a drawer, until I notice him looking at my hair.

“Oh” he says with exaggerated concern “only just noticed I got your hair too.”

I touch it. It’s… yeah, kind of drippy.

“Do you want a shower?” he asks casually, but there’s a flicker in his eyes that gives him away.

I shake my head quickly. “Don’t worry, it’s not like…”

But I stop when I see his grin spreading.

Shit.

My cheeks warm.

“I assume I wouldn’t be alone in said shower?”

He nods slowly, lips twitching into something soft and sly. But he waits. Patiently.

Okay. This is it.

Why is the first time with someone always nerve-racking? Even when it hasn’t been the actual first in so long? Even when I’ve pictured it a thousand different ways. Even when I’ve wanted him since the day we met. It’s because I waited so long. Because it’s him.

I take a breath. “Well… I guess it would only be responsible.”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling. “Let me get us another glass of this - carefully.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing down the hall. I run my fingers through my sticky hair and try not to think too hard. A minute later, he’s back - lights off behind him, the only glow now coming from the bathroom, warm and golden and quietly inviting.

The bathroom is stunning, of course. I’ve only ever glimpsed it briefly, passing by during makeup touch-ups. Usually, I use the smaller guest bathroom by the entrance. This one? It feels like a sanctuary.

He hands me my glass. We toast. Sip. And then just stand there for a second, glasses pushed onto the sink. Smiling. Teetering. Our eyes lock and we both break into a little awkward laugh.

“Whatever…” I murmur.

And then I just… go for it. Pull the band-aid off. I reach for the hem of my dress and lift it over my head in one smooth motion.

There’s a pause. Then:

“Oh good god.”

He’s got one hand in his hair, the other still holding his glass, eyes wide and reverent.

Yeah. The I’m-probably-getting-lucky underwear has done its job.

And his reaction is everything I hoped for, makes me feel really good about myself, even though I don’t know what to do with my arms now, awkwardly crossing them in front of me.

Smiling, he pulls off his shirt. I nod with a grin. Seen his naked chest before, liked it then. Like it even more now.

As he opens his belt buckle - slow, almost casual - the sight alone sends goosebumps across my back in the best kind of way.

“Shit” he murmurs, stepping closer. “I’m so fucking lucky. You have no idea how long I’ve imagined you like this.”

His voice is quiet, but the way he looks at me speaks volumes.

“Damn” I reply, mock-serious. “I don’t want to burst your bubble…”

I pretend to take a step back, teasing.

But he’s faster. Laughing, he ignores his half-undone jeans and pulls me toward him, hands warm on my hips before wrapping fully around me. He’s right there, face just inches from mine and we both break into wide, ridiculous smiles. His eyes search mine like he’s trying to memorize something. And before I know it, my bra has unclasped without me really realizing he was doing that.

Right. Okay. Yes. You used to be a fuckboy. We get it.

When I let the bra slip off, he exhales slowly, looking down and not even hiding what he is looking at.

“Do they live up to the fantasy version of me?” I ask with a grin.

He just nods, still speechless. There’s something incredibly endearing about that.

“Shower” he finally mutters. “Before I forget myself.” Oh, but please do.

He turns toward the glass door, stripping the rest of the way and I take the opportunity to admire the view - shamelessly. Then I slide off my underwear and take a deep breath before stepping into the warmth behind him.

At first, it’s awkward. I try not to trip over myself while acting like naked showering together is totally normal. But then his hands are in my hair, gently lathering shampoo, tilting my head so the spray doesn’t hit my face. He’s quiet, focused. I just watch him, eyes tracing the curve of his cheekbone, the arch of his brow, the concentration in his mouth. Eventually, I lean in until our chests touch, skin against skin, warm water between us. I feel his rhythm falter just slightly. Good.

When he looks up, we’re both grinning. It’s a game now, quiet and private. Who’s going to give in first? I want to kiss him so badly I can feel it in my stomach. I want to be closer, just all in already.

His hands drift over my waist, slow and steady and it feels like I’ve won - but so has he. There’s no loser here tonight.

I suck in a breath when he pulls me against him fully, our bodies aligned, no space left. Water drips down his cheeks, his neck, his collarbones. He looks like something from a dream - soaked, flushed, a little wrecked already. I am pretty sure I have never seen anything hotter in my life. 

“You are so fucking beautiful.” I say before I can stop myself.

He raises an eyebrow, surprised, but clearly not complaining. His hands slide up to cup my face, warm and sure. And then he kisses me - soft at first, then deeper.

I melt into it. My hands wander across his chest, down his back, gripping where I can. His body is all tension and heat and I want more. We move back and forth together in little, clumsy steps, bumping into the shower wall, holding onto each other like it’s the only thing keeping us upright.

His touch grows bolder - over my sides, across my breasts. I gasp when he grazes my nipple with the flat of his palm. Then his hands grab my ass and he uses it to pull me tighter against him, making me whimper into his mouth.

We stumble again, his back hitting the wall. He chuckles against my lips, lets me have the upper hand for a second and fuck do I enjoy it - until he spins us around. Now it’s my back pressed to the cold stone and I moan at the contrast, at the way his body warms mine again a heartbeat later.

His hands explore, mouth everywhere, until finally he stops. Breaks the kiss to look at me - really look at me. There’s something questioning in his gaze, but also teasing, a kind of quiet dare.

My heart is pounding. I’m so ready I could scream.

I don’t say anything. I just take his hand and guide it down.

He laughs softly, the sound hot against my ear and then two fingers move between my folds. Massaging on each side of my clit, his eyes still on my face. I hold onto him like he’s the only solid thing in the room.

Water is everywhere now - on our skin, in our hair, down our necks.

I want him undone too. I need that.

One of my hands slides down his body, wrapping around his cock and he groans my name. I stroke him - slowly - and his body jerks just slightly, the tension in him shifting.

We keep kissing like we’re still starving for it. Like this isn’t enough and somehow too much. The shower, the water, our bodies - it’s all messy and overwhelming and perfect.

“I want you so badly. Please… I just need to finally have you.” Jiyong’s lips brush against my ear, his voice ragged and low, each word catching slightly on his breath. For a second I debate whether I can still speak  - my mouth is open, panting, heat pulsing through me in waves.

“Then have me.” I breathlessly whisper, eyes meeting his. “Just… I really need you to fuck me.”

The phrasing catches him for a second - I see the flicker in his eyes, the way something lights up behind them. His gaze sharpens, lips parting like he wasn’t expecting me to say it like that. But he recovers fast. Kisses me hard, one more time, then reaches for the shower handle without even looking.

The water shuts off with a thunk.

And then -

He lifts me.

Strong arms wrap around me and suddenly I’m in the air, legs automatically around his waist, his hands steady under my thighs. He’s not the buff kind, but he’s determined, focused, breathing hard against my neck as he carries me the short way to the bedroom.

My feet hit the floor again just before the bed, walking backwards with him in a blur of wet skin and gasps until the backs of my knees meet the edge.

I fall back onto the mattress, the sheets catching my weight. Everything is damp - my hair, my skin, the air between us. I don’t care.

For a split second, he just looks at me, laid out like that - flushed, dripping, eyes wide, needy for him. Then he climbs over me, crawling up my body.

His fingers slide through my tangled hair at the back of my head, as he aligns himself, forehead almost touching mine. When he pushes inside, I can’t hold back the sound that leaves me - not a scream, not a moan, something in between. I bite down on my lip but it doesn’t help. Jiyong grits his teeth, breath stuttering as he sinks into me.

It’s almost too much - too good, too real. My hands scramble across his back, pulling him closer, dragging him down. His hips rock forward and I gasp again.

“Shit…” I breathe and he just presses his face to my neck, mumbling something that sounds like my name.

His pace is slow at first. It feels like he wants to feel every second of this - and I do too. Every inch, every movement, every sound.

He kisses me again, desperate and messy, one hand gripping the side of my thigh while the other supports his weight beside my head.

When I arch into him, chasing the friction, he gets the message. His thrusts grow deeper, filling me in a way that makes my whole body tense and tremble.

“Daisy…” he groans my name again and it’s the best thing I have ever heard.

My nails rake across his shoulders and down his spine, trying to keep myself tethered as heat builds low in my belly.

“Don’t stop.” I whisper. “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t.

But I can see it in his face - how close he is, how much effort it takes not to let go. His jaw is tight, his breath ragged and his hands grip me harder.

Without thinking, I shift - one hand on his chest, the other bracing myself against his shoulder as I push up slightly. He notices the movement and lets go of my thigh to give me space, though I can tell he doesn’t quite know what I’m doing.

Neither do I.

But then I end up on top op him, in his lap. He wraps his arms around my waist, steadying me, keeping me from falling backwards into the pillows. I reach between us, guide him back into me and gasp into his mouth as I sink down again.

The angle makes everything sharper - deeper. I can ride him like this, set the rhythm, tilt my hips just right to chase what I need. We’re both close, both breathing hard, chasing that final crash. His hands grip my ass, helping me move, pulling me down onto him as he thrusts up in return. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders, clinging tight for balance as I use what I have left in me to bounce on him.

We try to kiss but can’t - mouths not quite connected - because we both need the air and can’t help getting louder. 

When I finally come undone he has just slammed deep inside of me. I only hold on long enough to see his face dive into pure bliss, then I can’t take it anymore and let my face fall to his shoulder. I moan, helpless and shaking, clutching onto him.

He follows moments later. I feel him twitch, hear him gasp my name, feel the way he presses up into me one last time and holds me there as he comes. We’re both trembling. I can feel his heart beating fast under my hands and mine isn’t much better. It takes a moment for either of us to breathe again properly - we just hold each other, still locked together, the room spinning softly around us. His grip around me is shaky, but I know he won’t drop me. I meant it when I said that I trust him yesterday.

Eventually, I sit up a little straighter, one hand resting in the crook of his neck so I can look at him properly. Ji’s eyes meet mine, mirroring everything I feel - wonder, exhaustion, contentment… and maybe just a little bit of overwhelm.

“Baby…” he murmurs, voice low and warm and fuck, I already know I won’t get enough of him calling me that. I answer with a kiss, soft and slow, my other hand holding his face for a second. We’re both smiling by the time we pull apart.

“Shit, if it’s always like this, we won’t get much work done anymore.” I murmur when I finally find my breath again. He giggles, light and real. I think we both know it won’t always be like this - not every time. But still. Damn. That was good.

I sink back into his arms and he presses a gentle kiss to my shoulder as we wrap ourselves around each other.

Right now, I feel invincible.

We stay like that for a good while, his hand lazily tracing circles on my lower back. I’d gladly close my eyes if it weren’t for the creeping cold making my body start to shiver. We’re still… well, very wet.

When Jiyong notices, he sighs and gently lifts me off his lap and there's the tiniest flash of pride in his eyes when I shudder at the loss of him inside of me. He rummages through his nightstand, then hands me a single tissue.

I laugh. “I think… that won’t be enough. We need towels.”

He slowly nods and slips out of the room while I rub my face with my hands. God, the water, the mascara... I hope I didn’t look like something out of a horror movie the whole time. When he comes back, he brings towels and a bottle of water. He helps me first, dabbing my cheeks. “Glorious mess.” he murmurs when he notices I’m feeling a little embarrassed. I smile and let him wrap a towel around me once I’ve cleaned up a bit and he does the same for himself. I flop back into bed with a satisfied sigh, finally warm, pulling the blanket up over me as well.

Ji sits at the edge of the bed, tossing the used towels onto his nightstand, but then he just... stares into the open drawer. I open my arms to invite him back in. “What?”

He clears his throat, hesitant. “Uhm… I just realized… we didn’t… like… I guess I forgot to… wrap it?”

It takes me a second, but then I realize what he’s looking at. I don’t even need to see the box of condoms to get there. That slow, ice-cold shower trickles down my spine.

Oh. Fuck.

We are idiots. Actual idiots.

“How did we not think of that…” I mutter, already feeling my stomach drop.

Ji looks frozen for another moment, then over at me.. “Are you… I mean, are we okay in terms of…?”

“Birth control” I say quickly, nodding. “We’re good.” That earns a soft exhale of relief from him.

“Uhm… and when was the last time you had sex?” I ask, voice low. I hate for this conversation to happen right now when I didn’t care before, but I’d rather get it over with than wonder.

He presses a hand to his face. “Months ago. But protected. And I’ve been tested since.”

Honestly, I’m a little relieved. It’s not “like, two weeks ago” while I was pining over him. Good.

“You?” he asks gently.

“Over a year.” I say.

He nods again and finally lies down beside me with a long sigh. “Sorry. I should’ve remembered. That sucks.”

“I didn’t think of it either” I say honestly. “I was so out of it…”

Yeah. He was there. He knows what I mean.

The little flare of awkwardness lingers for a beat, but not long. My good mood creeps back in with every second that passes. I smile and lean over to kiss him.

“It’s fine. We got away with it. And… it was still perfect. Like… so much better than I ever let myself imagine.”

He raises a teasing eyebrow. “Did you think it wouldn’t be good?”

I roll my eyes. “No… I was just nervous. And I spent way too long wondering what it would be like.” A blush - of course I do - but he just looks completely flattered. He wraps both arms around my waist, pulls me back against him and murmurs into my ear “Same. I thought about it a lot. The shower wasn’t what I pictured… but I really liked it.”

We snuggle for a while longer, sipping water and letting our bodies slowly settle. Eventually, I sigh and force myself to get up. I know I should at least pee. Responsible post-sex behavior and all that if the pre-part was already lacking.

In the bathroom, I try to tame my half-dried hair in the mirror. The place is a mess - water everywhere - but I let it be and sneak back into bed with him.

Soft sheets. Warm skin. Aching body (the good kind).

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Very good first date. Very well planned, very well executed.” I murmur, closing my eyes for a moment, my head resting on Ji’s shoulder.

“Honestly, didn’t take you for the kiss-on-the-first-date type.” he replies, trying to sound serious, but I burst out laughing right away.

“Well, technically I made you wait ten years, so call me a prude or whatever.”

“Fair point.”

I feel his fingers brushing gently across my cheek, so I open my eyes again. He’s smiling at me.

“Are you happy?” he asks.

I nod slowly. “Very. You?”

His smile stretches even wider as he nods - once, twice, then again - still nodding as he leans in and kisses my cheek.

Sleep starts to settle in not much later. It’s just too damn comfortable with him. 

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

What do we think? =) <3

[alldthoughtsinmyhead]

Stolen: Part Three

Warning: Dark themes.

Terry watched her from behind the door. He had stepped away to give her privacy, but in his ear, a tiny bug transmitted the full conversation. On both ends of the call.

Andre: “Where are you? We woke up and you were gone.”

Candy: “I’m fine. I got a call early this morning—my distant cousin had a baby. She doesn’t have anyone else, so I came to help.”

Andre: “Your distant cousin, huh? What’s her name? Where does she live? I’ll bring the boys. You can all come home together.”

Candy: “No... it’s fine. She just had a baby. I don’t want the boys disturbing her.”

Andre: “I don’t know, Candy... Leaving so early without telling anyone? That’s not like you. You should’ve left a note. Or texted.”

Candy: (laughs, strained) “So what—” she cleared her throat, swiping sweat from her brow, eyes darting around the room. “You think I’ve been kidnapped?”

A beat.

She took a deep breath, trying to even out her voice.

“What would you do,” she said slowly, “if I had been kidnapped and taken out to sea?”

Behind the door, Terry's mouth curled into a grin.

Andre: "Ha ha ha, Candy. Very funny. Just be home by Monday, alright? I can’t handle the house, the kids, and work all by myself. Remember, I’m the only one bringing in the income. I can’t do your job and mine."

Tears streamed down Candy’s face.

“Andre, I’m trying to tell you—”

The line went dead.

Not yet. Not yet…

She spun around and lunged toward the box Terry had left open—just as he stepped into the room.

He stalked toward her, stealthily, like a predator cornering its prey.

She turned to dash past him, but his hand shot out, wrapping around her neck and yanking her against his chest. Her fingers clawed at his hand, but fear paralysed the rest of her.

He lifted her off the floor until her feet dangled, her face inches from his. His eyes locked on hers—a swirling pool of ice.

Then he crushed his mouth against hers.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was possession.

It was rough, consuming—hungry in a way that made her feel like he was trying to devour something inside her. Not tenderness. Not lust. Something deeper. Something territorial.

When he finally set her down, Candy collapsed to the floor, breathless, unsure if it was the choking, or the kiss, or something else that switched on like a flame inside her.

Terry turned to the computer, shut it down, and closed the box. As he walked past her, he paused, turning his head slightly.

Still facing away, he spoke softly:

“Not once did he ask if you were alright.”

A beat.

“He just wants you home. Does he miss you, or does he miss the service you provide?”

Then he walked out, leaving her gasping for air—his words stinging deeper than his grip.

**************************************************************

Candy reluctantly rose from the tub once the water had gone completely cold. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she stepped into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around her naked body.

Laid out on the bed was a matching bra and panties set from her favorite brand, alongside a pair of jeans and a soft, well-worn tee.

She quirked a brow.

She could rebel. Stomp out wrapped in the towel, barefoot, and let him deal with it. But... walking around half-naked in front of a man who had stolen her from her bed and kissed her like he wanted to crawl inside her skin? Maybe not the smartest play.

With a sigh, she let the towel fall and slipped into the clothes.

She found she wasn't as surprised as she should have been when everything fit her perfectly.

Terry watched her every move from behind his screen.

He’d already jerked off twice.

The first time, while she was in the tub—scrubbing her skin slowly, lost in thought. He watched the way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath, the way her fingers lingered between her thighs like they were guided by muscle memory, like she had pleasured herself so many times that her hands moved on their own, without needing instruction.

When she caught sight of her neatly arranged toiletries—all newly bought, perfectly familiar—he saw it.

The smile.

She noticed.

That pleased him.

He started pumping himself again when she dropped the towel and stepped into the underwear he bought. His eyes locked onto the way she admired the bra cupping her breasts, the panties hugging her just right. He licked his lips, stroking faster, groaning as he imagined tearing the lace off her with his teeth.

He came hard, all over his desk.

Still, his eyes never left her.

There was something about the way she moved—fluid, cautious, controlled—that drove him wild. He could see it all in his head: how she’d writhe beneath him, how her mouth would open when she finally said his name—not with fear, but with need.

And that call with her husband?

He smiled again.

The marine in him had been proud of her—so proud. She tested him. Defied him.

She wasn’t a doormat. She was a fighter. It was in her posture, her voice, even the way she blinked. He liked that about her. He liked that she made this a game.

It made the whole thing feel real.

But now...

He needed her in his bed.

And his patience was running out.

When Candy finally stepped into the dining area, it was nearly evening.

Terry was cooking again.

He had changed into a black, long-sleeved sweater that hugged his frame like a second skin. His tailored gray pants fit perfectly—showing off a finely tuned ass that made her eyebrows shoot up.

God... he was fine.

He’s also a psycho, her brain hissed. Keep thinking with your head, Candy.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw her.

He’s a psychopath, her brain repeated, louder this time.

She hugged herself as she approached.

“Would you like some help?” she asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

Terry took note of her barely concealed nerves.

“Can you set the table?” he said gently. “Please.”

She nodded, grateful to get some space.

Dinner was quiet.

He tried to make small talk, but she responded with clipped, one-word answers. Eventually, he gave up, and they ate the rest of the meal in silence.

When she reached for her plate, he took it from her.

“I’ll handle it.”

His voice was firm—final.

“Go to the living area.”

She obeyed, moving stiffly. Sitting on the couch, she folded her hands in her lap and stared ahead, tense. When was he going to take what he wanted? So far, he was treating this like a vacation, not an abduction.

She glanced down at her clothes. Normal. Comfortable. No humiliating lingerie. No collars. Just jeans and a T-shirt.

He wants me to believe he’s not a monster, she thought.

He joined her minutes later and turned on a movie.

It was the one she’d told him she was dying to see once it hit Blu-ray.

Her stomach turned.

She hadn’t realized how much ammunition she’d handed him in their chats. Likes. Dislikes. Comforts. Vulnerabilities. He had memorized it all.

She made to stand, but his voice cut through the room like a whip.

“Sit down, Candace.”

She froze. Then turned on him sharply.

“Or what?! You’ll kill me?”

Her voice cracked. Her eyes burned.

“Just do it then, Terrence. Kill me already.”

Terry stared at her.

“You think I brought you here to kill you? Have you been paying attention, Candy? What part of our conversations over the last month and a half ever suggested I wanted you dead?”

“There was no indication I’d be your prisoner, either!” she snapped.

“Oh, but I told you, Candy,” he said, his voice dropping. “I told you I’d take you from that man who didn’t even know how to make you cum.”

Her cheeks flushed hot.

She turned her face away.

She had told him that—late-night chats that started as jokes and slowly turned into confessions. She’d said too much.

“I didn’t tell you all that as a cry for help, Terry,” she said softly, hugging herself. “I love my family. I love my life.”

Footsteps.

She stiffened as he moved behind her.

His arms snaked around her waist, and his lips brushed her ear.

“You sure about that?” he whispered, his voice low and coaxing. “You don’t want me to do everything I promised?”

Her voice came out sharp, strained: “I can’t cheat on my husband.”

Terry's teeth flashed in a devilishly handsome grin.

“Who said anything about cheating?” he whispered. “I’m taking you against your will.”

Then he kissed her—hard—his large hands cradling her head and face before finding her throat, squeezing as she moaned into his mouth.

He ripped her shirt off her body, and her bra followed. She gasped as his hands found her skin, her body reacting before her mind could shut it down. When he tugged at her jeans, her arms wrapped around his neck—tight, like an anchor or a noose—and she whispered to herself again and again: This is just for survival. Just survival.

But the gush of fluid sliding down her inner thighs called her a fucking Liar.

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@23jammy @ovohanna24 @determinednot2fall @transparentphantomface @fakxmbj @secret89sblog

[overangel]

"Hiiiii, thanks for asking! This is such a fun question. So! Let's get the depressing stuff out of the way. You/Starling in the past didn't buy new clothes and if she did, it was very basic dark colored tees and jeans she wore for years. She had like only 2 pairs of dingy sneakers. Why was that? She was extremely depressed, too anxious to draw any attention to herself—because any attention from the batfam was always negative attention(will get into how Dick was particularly cruel in the last life)—and she lacked confidence while believing nothing nice suited her and she didn't have the aura to pull it off. She/you are growing up in the age of tiktok where any style is possible, but she restrained herself. She had a credit card from Bruce but was too afraid to lose it. So, that's how she died. Never allowing herself to feel pretty. Never expressing herself. Another injustice you did yourself.

This time, things are so different! Before you get funds, Alfred is styling you in smart, refined, yet chic fits. From rich royal blue and crimson, to soft and dainty powder blue, and dusty rose, he's coordinating ladylike quiet money. No labels but anyone with eyes can see the quality in the fabric, stitching, and cuts. Sheer stockings, Mary Jane's, and sensible heels, you're his lady and he's so proud of you.

YOU USE THAT BLACK CARD. you're no label hoe, you seek quality and genuine style and artistry. You wear whatever you want. Let people see your mood without you having to speak. You're finding treasures at the salvation army, discovering vintage pieces long believed lost, if you buy designer, you're hiding the label. No free promo lol

You're quiet but you're confidence is loud"

There's so much to unpack that i prefer to ask here.

1)I really want to know who was the most cruel to Starling in her past live now (if this is not spoiler ofc🫣).And who did she dislike the most ?

2)Is bruce ever threatened her to take back the credit card?

3)And about the "No free promo lol" make me wonder what was Starling's job in her past and actual life? Will she get famous in her civilian life now?

Ayeeee, honeybunch! Thanks so much for reaching out cause I love to discuss~

Let's get into it!

𝟙 Who was the most cruel? Whew, now that's a good question, and depends on what's the most triggering to you. I'll def have to add appropriate TWs to the chapter where Starling remembers how they treated her in the past because I'm sure like myself, it may hit a little close to home for some readers and I know we're all in it for a the angst, but your mental health takes priority.

I won't be too descriptive, but here's how each of the main perpetrators were terrible in their own way:

Dick: Bodyshaming. Starling goes through a lot of physical changes as a result of poor mental health and declining quality of life. Dick was the type to give you "advice" with a shit-eating grin like he was doing you a favor.

Tim: Mental abuse. He downplayed, questioned, and insulted your intelligence any chance he got. It came second to breathing for him, and you sadly started to believe him.

Damian: Violence, intimidation, public humiliation, and he was the only one to ever insult your mother. As your blood, he really knew how to hit you where it hurt and he aimed to make sure you didn't get back up.

Stephanie: Mean girl behavior and psychological abuse. The type to publicly embarrass you and call you out on it "innocently" like you were being overly sensitive. Any reaction you had was unnecessary and you were being too dramatic. "She didn't mean it like that. Stop being so sensitive!"

Cassandra: Looking right through you. No, she never insulted you. She treated you like you didn't exist, and maybe that hurt just as much sometimes.

Barbara: You weren't around her much, but she breezed right by you when you were. You don't know what anyone told her about you, but she already formed a negative opinion of you and there was nothing you could do to change it.

Bruce: Everything about him.

((Jason's only flaw was staying away from you. He was avoiding you because he didn't think he could do anything good for someone like you who had gone through so much. Duke honestly tried to talk to you and form something like a friendship but others kept getting in the way))

𝟚 Regarding the black card, I meant to type "use" instead of "lose," my bad 😂 Starling was afraid to use the card because she was worried about what Bruce would think of her. What if the purchases looked useless or embarrassing? What if he judged her for being wasteful and frivolous? And then, she stupidly thought that if she never bothered him for money he might come to like her for who she was and not think she wanted anything from him ((but parents are supposed to provide for their children. He wasn't a father in any sense.))

She died without touching a single penny of that card in 10 years. What a waste. Now, she'll use it before she uses her own money. "Fuck you, pay me" and all that

𝟛 Regarding previous jobs, Starling was always artistically inclined and had a giving heart even back then. She had a bleeding heart she wore on her sleeve (at her peril) so something involving helping others would've been a good career path. It could range from physical therapy, early childhood development, social services, pediatrics, medicine, teaching, caregiving, photography, etc, etc, etc. You were capable of doing whatever you wanted. You just didn't let yourself. You couldn't let yourself.

The only time she tried to work ended in disaster with her manager and coworkers secretly recording and posting her to their socials. She barely got through a day before the store she worked was swarmed with paparazzi and mean-spirited people. Bruce put an immediate stop to her ever trying to work ever again and didn't see her capable enough to have any position at his company so she just became a NEET.

In this life, the possibilities are limitless.

[buckytakethewheel]

heavy in your arms

Summary: Bucky has big arms. And you've been dreaming about losing yourself in them since you saw him for the first time. Inspo: beefy!bucky wrapping his bicep around your neck to pull you flush to his chest while he pounds into you deliciously Pairing: beefy!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warnings/tags: smut; porn without plot; breath play (kinda); arm kink; chocking kink; silent play; p in v; unprotected sex; praise kink (reader); no use of Y/N Word count: 2.6k Notes: quick drabble i wrote in like two hours because i couldn't stop thinking about this post by @fckmebarnes

You’re not entirely sure how you got to tonight’s events.

You met Bucky Barnes a few months ago in a local market. He seemed lost. Like buying tomatoes and plums from a sweet vendor on the street was the hardest chore someone could do in a lifetime. You approached. He looked uneasy, pulled away. You spoke, soft and tender. He barely answered. American. 

But you saw each other again. And again. And again, on the same market. At some point, you wondered if he would come just to see you. One day, you invited him to your home. You didn’t think he would say yes, but he did.

You know his name. He’s hiding something dark, deep, and he’s got a shiny metal arm instead of a left human arm. All the rest of him is… normal. He’s quiet, quieter than should be comfortable, but you’re okay with it. And his presence in your home comes like a balm. Becomes a routine. He comes over once a week, you make him his favorite soup. He always looks tired.

Then, tonight, something shifted. You made a comment about his arms. His big fucking arms, because, God, he’s muscular and big, so much bigger than you. And you’ve wondered what it would be like to lose yourself in those arms, to have them wrapped around you as he fucked you into oblivion, until you forgot yourself.

You’re both in the living room, and Bucky is the first to reach forward, towards you. He’s careful in his motion, but firm, his body moving with a certain precision. Flesh hand, warm, wraps around your smaller right wrist and tugs you closer, until your bodies are practically touching. Every inch of him on every inch of you - almost.

His icy blue eyes trail over your features like he’s studying you, learning, memorizing. They are directly locked into your own eyes for a moment, holding your gaze, and you think you detect something behind that look, like he’s about to say something, but decides against it. Then his eyes are on your cheeks, taking in the pinkish tone on your skin, and then lower, on your lips. Plump, a little trembling, as if they are begging to be kissed. To be devoured by his own. You don’t need to ask it out loud. Bucky’s memories are scattered across the continents, but the look on your face - the want - that one he recognizes.

His body towers over yours and he starts to lean down, and you still catch the moment he starts to close his eyes. And then, a hairsbreadth later, his lips are pressing to yours. The kiss isn’t tender, isn’t sweet. You didn’t expect sweetness from him, anyway.

Bucky is hungry and he kisses you exactly like a man starving. When was the last time his lips were on someone else’s willingly? When was the last time he felt like his body really was his own? He’s not sure he remembers, but this, right here, your small, fragile body on his - it feels good.

Your lips move together, hard and hungry, and he tastes like alcohol and fruit and the mixture is strange on your tongue but not unpleasant. He licks over your lips, inviting himself into your mouth before his tongue slides past your lips and tastes all of you. His flesh hand is still holding on to your wrist, but when he kisses you like that you moan and instantly, his hand moves to grip your hip tight. Bucky holds you hard against his body, and already you feel the outline of his hard cock through his jeans. Your hips roll forward, teasing, seeking friction, and he makes a noise into your mouth which you swallow like it’s your own.

Bucky breaks the kiss for a moment to search for air, and he takes in the sight of your flustered face. He seems proud of the work he’s done, metal arm reaching up and craddling your cheek as his thumb rubs over the reddened skin.

“You’re beautiful.”, he says, and his voice is rough with desire. You open your mouth to say something, but Bucky catches your lips in another lustful kiss that leaves you breathless before you can get a word out. Then he’s pulling away again. “No, love. No speaking unless I ask you to.” His head lowers and you think he’s about to kiss you again but instead his head dips between your neck and your shoulder and he licks a strip across your neck. Then, his teeth are digging into the skin before he sucks it into his mouth and that elicits another moan from you. His hand on your hip tightens and he groans in disapproval. “No noises either, love. You don’t make a sound. Do you understand?” You’re a quick learner, because his question doesn’t receive a spoken answer. Instead, you simply nod, your body already slightly trembling under his hold. “Good. Such a good girl for me.”

His words bleed into your ears like acid, burning their way through every inch of your skin, crawling, a brand being placed upon you. Such a good girl for me. It echoes inside of you, and you can imagine that, many moons from now, those words will still be glued to you like they are a part of your core.

Bucky is still kissing your neck, and his teeth graze the skin ever so slightly a couple of times. He’s testing you, testing your restraint. And you provide nothing. Not a single sound, only your eyes rolling into the back of your head, back arching slightly into him. He’s hot and warm and built like a wall - firm, big, his muscles so big they completely crowd your every sense. There is so much of him. Standing tall and strong, the red henley strained against his arms as his muscles flex as he grips you tight. And your mind is spiraling, because you had to be blind to not notice how big he was, but now, this close, you feel so small in comparison, so breakable. And you are sure he could break you if he wanted to. You’re not entirely sure he isn’t doing that, right now, just in an entirely different way.

You almost mewl in disappointment when Bucky momentarily pulls away from you, but you don’t, and he takes notice. You’re being such a good girl, and he’s never been quite this turned on, even though you’ve barely done anything at all. Both his hands move to the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. Then he’s walking forward, and you walk backwards, and somehow, you end up with your back against the couch. Bucky is grinning at you. Not a full grin, no, but a delicious half-smile, confident he’s tearing you apart bit by bit. His eyes are skimming over your torso, landing on your black lacy bra and he can’t help but immediately move his flesh hand to massage one of your breasts, grabbing, the size of it perfect in his big palm. His thumb brushes the soft material of the bra to the side, just enough to free your hardened nipple and he plays with it between his fingers. 

You still don’t make a sound. God, it’s the hardest thing you’ve done all your life - not making a sound when he’s teasing you like this. But you’re a good girl. You can be good for him.

“Love-”, Bucky breathes and he kisses over the expanse of your chest. “Tell me how you’re feeling.” His voice isn’t demanding like the rest of his body is right now, but it’s rough enough to make it clear he needs an answer.

“So good.” 

*

A while later, you’re both naked, Bucky stroking your bare back with his fingers as you suck in a breath.

You are slightly bent over your couch, legs spread, and your arousal is slowly dripping down the inside of your thigh. Bucky catches some of it in his fingers and uses it to stroke his cock as he looks at you. 

What a sight to behold. You, spread out for him. Wanting, needing, not making a damn sound, like he asked you to. The imagery makes his cock twitch in his hand and he has to take a deep breath, slow his thoughts, otherwise he’d be gone before this even started. 

Bucky runs his metal hand over your hip, around the base of your back, so close to your ass, and his touch is reverent, like he physically needs to touch every inch of skin to make this perfect. Then, the tip of his cock is pressing against your folds, and the intrusion is most welcomed. Your hips roll back into him, and Bucky rests both hands on your hips to stop your movement.

“Don’t be greedy.”, he breathes, but in the next second he’s slowly sinking himself inside of you. His cock stretches you out and you grip the edges of the couch hard, so hard maybe you’ll leave nail marks afterwards, because it’s the only way you can stop yourself from making a sound. Sweat coats your body, and his, and his metal arm circles your waist, gently pressing against your stomach to keep you pressed tight to him as he sinks deeper, and deeper, until he’s fully seated inside of you.

Bucky groans and it’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard in your life. He doesn’t remember any other feeling quite like the feeling of being buried so deep inside of you. Your pussy feels divine, wet and warm, gripping him like a vice. It feels like it’s singing to him, a goddamn siren song, and he will never be able to leave again. 

“Oh, fuck, love- so tight.”, Bucky says, half a whimper, and he gives one tentative thrust. And you feel it then - his body shaking against yours. “Tell me this feels good. Tell me you want this.” Bucky’s pleading, a small contrast to the way he’s handling you, and you let out a soft gasp you had been holding on.

“Please, Bucky, I want you. I want you so bad.”, you respond, and the arousal in your voice is confirmation enough that you’re not lying. “Please, your cock feels so fucking good-”

And then your sentence is interrupted, because Bucky slides his flesh arm around your neck, hard bicep wrapped around you as he pulls you flush to his chest. He uses his knee to lift one of your legs from behind, resting it against the back of the couch, and then he starts fucking into you, thrusts slow, hard, deep, his bicep pressed so hard around your neck that you feel almost light headed. The grip of his arm is not enough to take your breath away, but it is enough to hold you in place, to stop you from moving, from doing anything at all. Anything but moan for him. You’re not sure he wants you to right now, but you can’t really hold it back when his cock is buried so deep, hitting every sweet spot, his balls slapping against your ass in a slow, sensual rhythm that sends you flying.

“Bad girl.”, he moans into your ear, but he doesn’t make a move to stop, and instead, fucks you through it, a little harder, a little deeper. “Making noise when I told you to be quiet.”, he continues speaking, voice hoarse, but his hips don’t snap out of their rhythm, and so you still moan. One of your hands comes up from the back of the couch and you drag your nails over his large arm, the one wrapped around your neck, and his hips stutter for half a second. “Naughty. And I fucking love it.”

He angles his hips better, lifts your leg a little higher with his knee and then he’s changing the pace, his cock driving in and out of you a little faster. The noises coming out of you are pure filth, obscene, and you’re glad he isn’t asking you to be quiet now, because you don’t think you could. Bucky’s lips drop to your neck, and he kisses the soft skin as his metal fingers slide down your stomach and start rubbing circles around your clit in time with his thrusts. He feels you trembling in his arms and he tightens the arm around your neck, keeping you more in place.

“I’ve got you, love.”, he moans against your neck, and his metal hand doesn’t stop, his hips don’t stop and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with your moans. “You’re so amazing. Could stay inside this tight pussy for hours.” Your body shudders against him, teeth digging into your bottom lip as his filthy praise makes his way into you. God, you want, need, more of this, more of him. 

But he has you pressed flush against his chest, against his body, and you’re his to take. He doesn’t let you move anything other than your arms, everything else in his total control. And you love it, you’d beg for it if he made you.

His metal fingers fasten the movements on your clit, and the cold metal feels perfect against the heat of your folds, so perfect. Your stomach feels tight, muscles coiled with the pressure of the orgasm that is building right in the back of your gut, spreading over your every limb, expanding and threatening to make a mess out of you. Bucky feels it, feels your walls clutching around his cock and it only spurs him on. His hips snap faster, fucking you with renewed vigor and his lips trail from your neck to your ear, whispering all the filthy things you seem to love.

“Gonna cum so hard inside this pretty pussy.”, he says and you whimper. He responds to that by thrusting particularly hard inside of you. “So good for me. My favorite girl. You gonna cum for me, love? Gonna cum all over my cock? Let me feel you.” 

Your arms are clawing at the bicep still tightly wrapped around your neck, not because you want him to move it but because you need to hold on to something as you come apart, in all senses of the word. “Bucky, I’m so close- please don’t stop.”

He wasn’t planning to. 

And shortly after, he tips you over the edge. You see white, your mouth opening to let out a strangled gasp as your orgasm washes over you and your whole body trembles against Bucky. He whispers soft praise into your ear as you cum, hold you through every spasm and moan, flush against his chest, and his hips don’t falter. He fucks you fast and hard and hot until you’re going limp in his body, and then he thrusts a couple more times, his rhythm broken, before he curses your name under his breath and spills himself inside of you, his seed filling your pussy to the brim. 

For another minute he just fucks lazily into you, like he’s just making sure no second of his or your orgasm go to waste. His arm around your neck loosens up and it seems like he’s about to move it completely out of the way, but you hold on to it. You feel his gaze on you, almost confused.

“Don’t move.” You ask, a little pleading. Your eyes are closed as you try to get your breathing back to normal. “Stay. For a while.”

He does.

For a while.

[lxnarphase]

g. satoru who is a massive pervert and constantly whines for you to let him touch you all the time, even when you're both around others. you've lost count of how many times he grabs you and pulls you into his lap, his warm hands slipping under your shirt while sitting next to g. suguru, who's attention is no longer on the tv.

'he doesn't mind,' satoru always comforts you, grinning into the skin of your neck. 'sugu's my best friend, he knows i can't help but touch you, baby.'

best friend or not, that doesn't explain how you always ended up with your legs spread open wide in satoru's lap, your jeans and panties discarded somewhere on the floor as suguru kisses all over your thighs. the two of them talk like you aren't even there, as if you aren't growing wetter as each second passes.

"satoru," suguru purrs, his fingers running up and down your soft lips, parting them open to watch slick slowly drip out of you. "you must be doing something else to her. i've never seen it get wet so quickly." the way he speaks so calmly makes you dizzy. it's unfair, so fucking unfair how calm and collected suguru is when he's inches away from your pussy, those pretty purple eyes focused on it.

"yeah? 's wet?" it's also unfair how riled up it gets satoru, seeing his pretty baby getting shy because his best friend is rubbing his fingers up and down her slick folds. "she's so messy, isn't she? she's the prettiest little pussy," he coos into your ear. that gets a chuckle from suguru, his eyes finally looking at you. "always the one to talk to the pussy and not about it, aren't you, satoru?"

his fingers finally focus on your clit, rubbing little circles into it. both you and satoru look pretty from this angle, suguru notices. the pure need and shyness on your face paired with that manic desperation on satoru's...it's a perfect picture, one he wants saved forever. maybe next time you'll let him take some pictures...after all, he needs a new background for his phone.

"c'mooon, sugu...give her a kiss? c'mon, c'mon, give that cunt a kiss, tell me how sticky 'n' wet she is," satoru fucking begs, acting as if he's the one spread open and dripping. but you second the thought, giving suguru the prettiest little puppy eyes.

"anything for you, princess," he coos softly, leaning down and pressing a little kiss on your clit. it's so light you barely feel it but then he's peppering kisses on it, your wetness starting to get on his lips and making each press of his lips sticker and wetter. "s-sugu-!" before you can even beg for more, his mouth is on you. his tongue is so wet and hot on your cunt, it feels like he was drooling for you.

"does she taste good? how wet is she, suguru, c'mon, tell me, tell me how that pussy tastes, pretty please?"

"mm, satoru, it's almost as if you wanted to be between her legs."

"who wouldn't? she's so pretty, she's squirmin' so cutely, my pretty baby, my needy little mochi, her pussy's always so creamy and warm and messy, god, i miss it right now."

"shit...stop talking like that, you're gettin' me flustered, should i-"

"s-sugu, please, keep going," you so politely ask. it's unbearable how cute you are, it's taking everything in him to keep being nice, to keep treating your cunt nicely. he knows satoru is mean and practically bullies your pretty slit almost every day, but he wants to be the nice one, the one who you go to when your 'toru' is being too mean. yet, you're making it so fucking hard when you look at him with lidded eyes that beg him to be rougher with you...

but he knows he's done for when satoru whispers something in your ear that has your eyes fluttering a bit and gets a pretty little gasp from you. those gorgeous eyes—oh, do you have little tears in them too?—connect with his and he's fucked.

"s-suguuu, please," you coo to him, moving your legs to hook over his shoulders and pull him closer to the apex of your thighs. "i need your mouth on my pussy r-really bad, please don't tease me." you take a pause and squeeze your eyes shut, whining a little as satoru coos for you to keep going. "g-give my...my messy cunt attention, suguru..."

suguru shakily sighs and the next thing you know, his mouth is smushed against your pussy, his tongue hungrily swirling against your clit as his hands grab onto the fat of your thighs. he doesn't know what gojo told you in order to hear you say that, but he's silently thanking him as he messily sucks and slurps at your juicy cunt.

it's so hot, all it takes is a few swipes of his tongue and you're gushing everywhere. suguru lowers his head to dip into your hole and he moans. he missed this, missed the sweet taste of your juices on his tongue as you squirmed and moaned for him, your boyfriend's best friend.

"fuck, i-i can hear how wet she is," comes satoru's pitiful whine, his hand dipping down to swipe at your clit as suguru focused on lapping up everything that dripped out of you. "lemme help, lemme help, wanna help you get her creamy, sugu." the feeling of suguru groaning into your puffy folds has you keening, arching your back against satoru's chest. oh, he's in heaven watching you both. "yeah, you didn't know she could cream, didya? put your fingers in her, sugu, put 'em in that sticky little pussy 'n' angle up."

reluctantly pulling his mouth off you with a wet sound, suguru slips two of his fingers in you. he doesn't miss the cry of his name, but he really doesn't miss the delirious giggle and moan when he angles his fingers up, rubbing against that spongy spot.

"f-fuck, she's dripping..."

"go on, fuck her with your fingers, you know you wanna see her make a mess. make her fucking cream, suguru, get her prepped. maybe t'day she'll let you put it in...oh, based on your face, she just clenched on your fingers, yeah?"

his fingers are still swirling around your clit, his other coming down to press on your abdomen. he can hear you getting wetter, your little whimpers turning to moans as you slur their names desperately. he wants you to lose all thoughts, only able to think about him and suguru...yeah, he wants you all soft and sweet so he and his best friend can try and slip into those warm, slick walls.

"mmn...she's really creaming...god, pretty girl, can you cum for me? i wanna see you cum on my fingers. satoru, move your fingers, the poor thing needs my mouth on her."

"hmmm, suddenly you know what she needs? ehehehe, you're learninggg, suguruuuu!" if you had turned to look at satoru, you'd see the charged look in his eye, blue eyes practically glowing with insanity. his hand grabs a fistful of suguru's hair and pulls his face directly into your cunt, unable to handle any more of this. he wanted to see you cum on suguru's face.

"c'mon, c'mon, kiss it, suguru, make it messy for the both of us. mmh, fuck, listen to you making out with her pussy, s' wet and sticky, isn't it? oohmygod, both of you sound so good, she's gonna cum, sugu, she's gonna cum in your mouth...fuck, i love you both so much, can't wait to see you both fucking each other."

[madamechrissy]

It Started out with a Kiss

Pairings: Shoko x F!reader/Gojo x F!reader/Geto x F!reader (reader fking em all aha)

MDNI- Explicit- PWP tbh, just a filthy ass foursome bc IDK- I need Shoko so here- oral (m and f recieving) f/f play, m/f play, foursome dynamics, reverse cowgirl, Satoru says 'yes mommy' for reasons, lots of kissing (esp w/Shoko) cum swapping etc, if you're here for plot there is NONE.

It started off as an innocent kiss, you and Shoko had far too much vodka shots, and ended up making out right in front of Suguru and Satoru, your roommates. The four of you have been friends since high school, now in your early twenties, still as close as ever, despite the occasional arguments.

Satoru loves to eat every ho-ho in sight.

Suguru loves to smoke skunk weed all over the house.

But you and Shoko are two peas in a pod, though tonight, her tongue is lapping against yours, her soft hands pulling you against him, you taste a hint of her cigarettes mixed with the vodka from the night, as she sighs into your mouth. Satoru and Suguru are watching you both from the couch, enamored then, cocks already pressing against the length of their pants.

"Fuck..." Suguru murmurs, putting out his blunt then, when Shoko eases your jacket right off your shoulders, and you're left in your little outfit, feeling their eyes all on you. Shoko slips your straps down just after that, her honeyed eyes on your breasts as she bends down, pressing kisses to them.

"Mnh!" Comes your little whine, while the men watch Shoko lead you until you're pressed against the wall, pulling a pretty tit out to lap at gently, while your hands entangle in her dark locks.

"Am I super fucked up, or is this happening?" Satoru's voice makes you and Shoko giggle, as she looks back at his bright blue eyes.

"You wanna help, huh?" Shoko asks, and Satoru blushes just a bit, eyeing your bare tit and nodding, you feel your own cheeks heating up then, when he stands so tall, tilting your chin up. "Get on your knees then."

"Shoko!" You're giggling at her as she winks, and Suguru stands then, kissing across the side of her neck, while Satoru brushes his lips on yours for the first time. "You don't have to-"

"Yes Mommy." Satoru says instead, and Suguru chuckles as he watches you both avidly, and Shoko is brushing back Satoru's white locks.

"Good boy, Satoru, let's slip this up." Shoko pulls up your dress, and Satoru pushes your panties to the side, exhaling and making you cry out, just his breath on your pussy is too much. "Taste her, would you?"

Satoru laps a line up your slit, making your hips jerk as he moans softly, licking a plump lower lip. "Yummy."

"Better than those twinkies?" Suguru asks, and Satoru licks you again, tongue exploring your slick walls, nodding.

"Better."

"Let me then, no way." Suguru is on his knees now, as Satoru stands, and Shoko pulls him in for a kiss, lapping your wetness off him, rubbing him over his jeans.

"No, she does taste so good." Shoko says, Suguru's violet eyes watch you under dark lashes, you're trembling while he holds your hips. "You're that hard?"

Satoru just whines out, when Suguru licks you up, tongue hitting your clit with the barbell clicking against it, and you scream out at the sensation, before you realize it, you're riding Satoru's cock in one of your beds, you can't even comprehend whose. You think the room looks like Suguru's, but you're lost in too many sensations, kissing Shoko's pretty lips as she rides Suguru's cock.

"Oh f-fuck... baby..." You hear Satoru whining behind you, you're reverse cowgirl right with Shoko, titties brushing together, while she's rubbing your clit, which drools down her fingers and Satoru's length, and you slip your hand to her breast, gripping it, nipping at her skin as her head falls back.

You watch Suguru's cock slide in and out of her pretty pussy, while Suguru's hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing into your flesh, as Satoru bounces you up and down his cock. He's so thick and long you're closer and closer, with Shoko's finger running in circles. "She's gonna cum, aren't you pretty?" Shoko's whisper ends you, you're nodding, whining out as Satoru's curved tip presses into your cervix.

"M'gonna cum... there, Toru- ah!" Satoru listens, slamming up just so, skin slapping, while your overstimulated clit twitches against Shoko's finger, and you're shattering.

Three pairs of eyes watch as you cum, brown, violet and blue, as the room fills with the wet sounds of everyone together, trembling and weak you're hopping off Satoru's cock, as Shoko sucks your arousal off him, and you're lapping Shoko off Suguru, earning his soft groan, as he pulls your hair. "My god..." He's whispering, when you feel fingers inside you while you're bent over, pressing on your spot, making you moan on Suguru's length.

When you're kissing Suguru and he's slipping inside your already puffy, swollen cunt, the four of you are losing yourselves, everyone is kissing, swapping your and Shoko's juices. It's filthy and wanton, when Satoru's pumping Shoko's pussy and she's lapping Suguru out of your hole, while Suguru holds you in a kiss, hand wrapped around your throat, while you're cumming again and again.

What was last night, you wonder the next morning, as you see your three best friends naked, Shoko's pretty slender form, and Satoru and Suguru's muscles, their... cocks just laid there, still semi hard and sticky, all three of them snoring. You ease out of bed, hearing a little screech from the springs as you do.

Shit, did you fuck all your best friends last night!?

You sigh, head pounding, padding naked to the kitchen, where you start brewing a cup of coffee, sighing happily at how it hits just the spot, when you feel a grip on your waist. You jerk just a bit- Satoru's grinning at you, all sleepy.

"Can you make breakfast pookie, please?" He asks, pouting then, and you sigh, as your other friends step out, yawning and stretching.

"What do you all want?"

"Pancakes!" Of course Satoru wants pancakes.

"Omelettes." Suguru chimes in, pecking a kiss on your head.

"Alright, and what about you, pretty?" You tease, as you brush back her silky locks, and she presses you on the fridge. "What do you want for breakfast, hmm?"

"You."

Just RANDOM smut ahahah - I needed to write something with Shoko I don't see alot of her, dang it. sorry for all the filth lately- I'm clearly ovulating

permtags - @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji  @cvixmei @mutsu422 @g00seg1rl @ivyvenus333 @suki91 @naomi-main @fairygardenprincesss @estrellaexists @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff

[mattsundaes]

♡ DATE EVERYTHING! — DIRK ♡

18+ — f!reader, masturbation, pillow humping, porn, fingering

your phone screen shines brightly amid the inky darkness of your bedroom, and you almost have half a mind to feel somewhat self-conscious about what you're doing—considering you're a little too aware of how much company you actually have in your house.

the key word being almost.

but right now, you can't bring yourself to care about what your captive audience of household objects might think about you firing up some porn on your phone with a big, plush pillow tucked between your thighs.

not when you've been feeling so pent up these past few days, you can hardly think straight.

whatever, it's not like you haven't been giving them free shows for years, apparently.

you sigh, pressing play on the video.

it starts off promising enough—it's a shot of a man from mid-chest down, sitting amongst a pile of blankets, jeans unzipped, hand palming his half-hard shaft.

he moans softly, quietly, and you reach out to increase the volume as your stomach flutters at his raspy tone.

then he reaches off-camera and procures a silky, black pair of panties. his dick visibly hardens, and he groans as he teases the tip of it with the material. you bite your bottom lip as you slowly rock your hips against the pillow between your legs.

now fully erect, the man's shaft is long and curved, requiring a decent stroke from dexterous-looking fingers that have your mouth watering the more you stare at them. precum leaks from his flushed tip.

it's a pretty cock.

one that you think you'd like to suck.

a whimper escapes your throat as you grind down against the pillow, the corner pressing just right into your swollen clit, and pleasure vibrates up your spine.

the man groans again, gravel-rough, and fuck—you think you could get off to the sound of his voice alone.

you tug your underwear up a little higher over your hips, tightening the pressure against your slick folds, sticky arousal soaking into the fabric.

and then he wraps the panties around his cock, fucking into the fabric, and you inhale sharply at the sight, at the way his hips stutter on the impact.

(like he's not just doing this for show. like he's getting off on this just as much as you are.)

you imagine the feeling of him rubbing his cock against your panties, dragging his shaft up and down your clothed slit until you're a gushing, sloppy mess. until he can't help but pull them aside and plunge inside of you—

he lets out a punched out, needy moan that has you humping your pillow so desperately, your entire bed frame creaks in protest as you tightly grip your sheets and keen.

and then he grabs another pair of panties suddenly, ones that are far less sexy looking. they're white with little daisies printed all over them, and they actually look like the pair you lost in the laundry bas—

the man accidentally hits the camera with his foot, just enough to show his face.

dirk deveraux drags a hand through his tousled, black hair before he throws his head back and gasps as he wraps your underwear around his leaking, throbbing cock.

and for whatever reason, the thought of dirk jerking off with your dirty underwear bypasses any and all mortifying confusion at this situation as you start moaning his name while you rub your pussy up and down on your pillow with frantic need.

"god, this is hot."

you'd probably be a little more startled by the very present sound of dirk's voice if you weren't a drooling, cock drunk mess at this point.

but as it were, you carry on, and this time, when you gasp his name, it's directed right to the man now kneeling beside you on your mattress.

"dirk, please."

dirk chuckles, voice low and syrupy, and your empty hole flutters around nothing as you continue thrusting.

in the video, dirk's pumping his cock so hard, the video footage becomes shaky.

dirk's breath is warm against the shell of your ear as he leans in, and you can feel his body heat folding over your own. "i like using the ones you leave all sticky and wet for me, you know."

you can feel him tug your panties aside, just enough to slide a finger into your tight, dripping hole. your cunt spasms in pleasure, and you buck backward into his touch, trembling and begging. dirk's quick to slide another finger in, like he knows how badly you need to be filled, and you choke out a sob.

with one hand grasping your hip, he guides you back into humping your pillow while he finger fucks you, and the dual sensation has you seeing stars, lips perpetually parted as you pant and whine and shake.

on your phone screen, the dirk in the video lets out a groan that boils over your insides like a flash flood, and pleasure floods your body from head to toe in a slick, gushing downpour as you watch his thick, hot, sticky load of cum shoot right through your panties and leak all over his fist.

dirk kisses the curve of your jaw as he fingers you through your own orgasm, his soft hair tickling your cheek as you leave a soaked mess all over his fingers, your panties, and the pillow.

the video ends, and your phone falls flat onto the mattress, enveloping the room in darkness.

a thick curtain exhaustion settles over you suddenly as you collapse against your sheets in a pliant heap, and the last thing you hear before falling asleep is dirk's warm, raspy tone murmuring, "same time tomorrow night?"

[heedeungism]

𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

•°. *࿐ PAIRING ― riki nishimura x fem!reader •°. *࿐ SYNOPSIS ― in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue. •°. *࿐ GENRE ― one-shot, friends-to-???, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au •°. *࿐ WORD COUNT ― 20.9k (yeah, i went kinda crazy) •°. *࿐ CONTENT WARNING(S) ― violence(fighting), cursing, high school, mc has a shitty ex-bf, cheating(not riki obviously), almond grandma(mentioned), a singular cigarette is smoked, mc is shorter than riki, riki can also pick mc up, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, mc has hair (texture and length unspecified, but can be put up), objectification of girls(not riki tho), mc objectifies boys back, dreamy riki, not suggestive or smutty but mc is absolutely a horndog, mc is her own worst enemy, mc using riki to get back at her ex but he likes it, i did not edit this lmao •°. *࿐ EXTRA NOTES ― inspired by euphoria and my hs experience, riki is a loser and a lover, implied that mc is 18, eunseok(riize) is an absolute asshole in this sorry guys i needed a villain, enha are all in the same grade, mc wears makeup and has a manicure of an unspecified length, mc has sick lore, also shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for digitally holding my hand thru this <3 •°. *࿐ SOUNDTRACK ― busy woman by sabrina carpenter, hiss by megan thee stallion, low by sza, i did something bad by taylor swift, without you by lana del rey, agora hills by doja cat, girls like me don’t cry by thuy, only girl (in the world) by rihanna, safety net by ariana grande, snooze by sza

part two

AT THE BEGINNING OF 2024, you lost for the first time in your life.

Finding your boyfriend of two years making out with a girl you know too well as Lee Nayeon, your best friend, on the Carrara marble countertop of your family home that you had trusted her to take care of for eight days while you were in New York was not on your New Year’s resolution. You had planned to stay to see the Times Square Ball Drop with your mom and stepdad, but you realized you’d prefer to spend it with your boyfriend.

He didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, considering he has his tongue down the traitorous bitch’s throat. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She screams, both of them startled by your appearance and scrambling off of each other. You feel an urge to slam her face into the precious marble they were defiling, but you stay where you are. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It isn’t what you think, babe—“

The speed at which Nayeon’s eyes filled with guilty and horrified tears fuels your rage, and behind you, Bahiyyih appears.

“Look who’s back—oh?” She stops beside you, arm hovering to wrap around you until she sees what you’re seeing. “Eunseok? Since when were you back from Stanford?”

“Since he’s been fucking Nayeon, apparently.” 

The barbie-haired girl’s eyes widen, and as she looks between the two she notices the same things you’re painfully aware of. Nayeon’s smeared lip gloss, her tears, Eunseok’s undone jeans, and the sparkly residue on his mouth. “Oh…”

Nayeon’s whimper as she slides off the counter snaps you out of your daze, “You’re crying?” The angry tears forming in your eyes go unshed as you walk closer to her, “You fuck my boyfriend, and you’re fucking crying?”

Anger turns to fury when the boy in question gets between you and her, pleading to let him explain, his hand grabbing your elbow to pull you away, only for you to jerk away, “Okay, I won’t touch you, just let me explain—“

“How long?”

“What? Babe, this isn’t-“

“How long have you been fucking him?” Your question is directed at who you thought was your friend, who avoids looking at you as she silently weeps. Scoffing, you realize you won't get a straight answer and choose to reel in your urge to beat her face in with one of your stepdad's bowling trophies that’s on display a few steps away. “Get out.”

“Babe, let me—“

The attempts at holding in your temper are lost on you, quickly forgotten as you walk over to the fireplace, grabbing the fire poker hanging up and holding it up. Nayeon lets out a scared, oh my God, while Eunseok tries to calm you down, demanding you put down the weapon. Instead of that, you walk past them, out the front door, ignoring Bahiyyih’s, “No, no, no—”

Eunseok’s red Mustang sits prettily in the driveway, and you can hear him realizing what you intend to do, but it’s too late for him. You slam the poker down onto the hood of his car, “Get. Out!”

“You crazy bitch, what is wrong with you?!” He screams, and you find yourself screaming back.

“Take your side piece and get. Out!” You slam the poker down again, and in minutes he’s got Nayeon in the passenger seat and is peeling out of your driveway like it’s on fire.

If rage had a physical human form, you would be it. Clenched jaw, a deadly weapon in your hands, and a white-hot fury in your eyes that promised to make those two regret crossing you.

The amount of junk food you have consumed in the last week would’ve sent your almond grandmother into an early grave. Your other friends had been visiting as often as possible to keep you from being alone in your thoughts for too long, offering to take you out or go shopping, yet the thought of possibly seeing either of those backstabbing fuckers in public made you sick to your stomach.

Pride didn’t allow you to cry, so instead of sadness and heartbreak, which you definitely felt but would never admit to, you felt pure seething fury.

“So I’ve been thinking,” You take a drag from the cherried slim between your fingers, exhaling towards the sky as you lean against the side of the pool.

From her spot on the lawn chair sunbathing, Belle says. “You can’t kill them.”

“I can, you’re just a party pooper.”

“The party should not include going to prison for murder.” Her statement makes you roll your eyes, “You aren’t built for prison, babe.”

“Well, that I can agree with,” You sigh, the water shifting around you as you turn to face her, arms resting on the edge, “but that wasn’t what I was thinking about.”

Pausing, you take one last drag from your cigarette before smothering it into the stone, “One of the things about him that pissed me off to no end was his temper, right?”

Remembering the many conversations and rants had and heard, Belle nods, “Mhm.”

“So what if I date someone I know will piss him off?”

“If that’s what you think will help you heal, then…” She trails off, and you groan.

“Why can’t you just say it’s an amazing idea?” 

“Girl…” Sighing, she asks, “I just don’t think a third party should be involved.”

“He already got one involved, so why can’t I?” 

Making a face that screams, well you’ve got a point, Belle then adds, “I think you should find someone who pisses him off but they should be aware of your plans. Don’t lead someone on.”

A cunning smile grows on your glossy lips, “I’m not.”

“Oh, so you already have someone in mind?” She gathers with a growing smile of disbelief, “Please tell me it isn’t one of his frat brothers.”

You grimace at the thought, “Ew, no. The only one of them remotely dateable is Wonbin and that’s meeting the bare minimum standards.”

Shrugging, Belle offers, “At least they're hot?”

“Hot does not equal dateable, plus I hardly believe any of them would date their friend’s ex anyway.” Shaking your head, you push yourself out of the pool and sit on the ledge to let yourself drip dry, “What about one of the lacrosse guys?”

“You say no to a frat boy but not a lacrosse player?” 

“I know, I know, but at least I have eyes on them instead of hoping they're being loyal in another city.” You put a hand above your eyes to block out the sun, “Me knowing the coach kind of helps, no?”

“If loyalty is your goal then good luck, bitch.” Belle snorts, sipping from the pink bendy straw sticking out of her Dr Pepper bottle, “Lacrosse players are mansluts.”

“I know that, but…” You push yourself to stand, grabbing the towel Belle holds out when she hears the sound of your feet leaving the water, her eyes still closed and covered by a pair of Prada sunglasses, “I have a few options.”

“The only, as you put it, ‘remotely dateable’-“ she emphasizes those two words with quotations using her perfectly manicured fingers, “-lacrosse players are Jay and Sunoo. Jay is taken and Sunoo friendzones every apretty girl he meets.”

“I don’t know, Jungwon’s cute.” You think aloud, placing a hand on your hip, “He’s just a tight ass.”

“And therefore undateable.” She finishes for you. “What about the baseball team?”

“Eunseok plays, I’m trying to not be reminded of him.”

Belle hums in acknowledgment, “Let me look at the Lacrosse team's insta.”

You pull the claw clip out of your hair as you wait, patting your body dry until she holds out her phone for you to look at. Taking it with your dry hand, you examine the team photo.

You recognize the majority of them, rolling your eyes at a few familiar ones before your eyes land on one particular member of the team you don’t recognize. “Who’s number 10?”

Handing it back, you walk over to the oversized Hall & Oates shirt you’d stolen from your brother’s room(he left a lot of his clothes when he moved out, something about ‘finding his style). You hear the tap of her nails on the screen a few times before she answers, “Some guy named Niki? Or Riki? He doesn’t have any posts on his profile but in the photos he’s tagged in he’s called either of those names.” She gasps, a cackle escaping her lips, “Some of these are his mom tagging him in baby photos, please come look!”

Leaning over, you peek at her screen, “Oh my god, I would die.” You can’t help but giggle as she scrolls, this woman’s Instagram is a gold mine of childhood photos of this guy. “Okay, I feel weird looking at his baby photos, show me the other ones he’s tagged in.”

“On it.” Belle affirms, “Let’s go inside, too.”

“Okay, so-“ Belle stands before a whiteboard, one that your stepdad used to use before upgrading his office to have a massive one mounted on the wall, a pink dry-erase marker uncapped in her hands as she looks down at her phone for reference. After a quick text to the group chat, a brief summary of your plan was explained when everyone got to your house, and it seemed that everyone was invested. “-are we all in attendance.”

Jongseob is eating cereal in the white tufted chair in the corner of your room, Eunchae is in the bean bag, and Bahiyyih is on the floor between them, lined up like a good audience. 

“We’re making a pros and cons list for Riki Nishimura,” Belle announces, writing his name on the whiteboard as ‘Niki’ between the two names, “feel free to interject when you have a pro or con to list.”

“Con,” Jongseob raises a finger with his mouth half full, swallowing before saying, “His nickname is stupid.”

“Opinions don’t count, stupid.” Eunchae rolls her eyes, earning the finger from the boy in the chair.

“But like, why is his nickname Niki?” Hiyyih asks, and Jongseon lets out a nearly intelligible ‘thank you!’.

“I assume it’s because there's another Riki on the team,” Belle guesses, and the three nod. You sip the Baja freeze you’d had them pick you up on the way to your house and hum.

“Make an ‘unsure’ column,” you instruct, and she does so, writing ‘nickname kinda dumb’ under it.

“Pro, he’s on the Lacrosse team so he’s fit,” Belle starts, writing it on the board under its labeled column.

“Con, he’s on the lacrosse team.”

A chorus of agreement accompanies it to its column.

“Pro, from the photos he’s tagged in and the team photo, he’s at least 6’.” Eunchae adds, Belle nods and writes ‘tall’.

“How can you tell?” Jongseob asks, and she rolls her eyes like his question is the most idiotic thing she’s ever heard.

“Because I pass Heeseung in the halls from 5th to 6th period and in these photos, this guy looks a little taller than him.” She explains, and you hold a hand up when Jongseob opens his mouth to insult her.

“Con, no instagram posts.”

“Pro, I just found a pic from Jake’s insta and I can see him in the back. He’s got abs.” (Thank you, Bahiyyih.)

By the time the sun has set, the whiteboard is packed, the pros heavily outweighing the cons. You had even searched the large group chat you were added into on Snap in freshman year full of girls you barely know who dated around and kept each other informed, and found his name zero times. 

“I think he’s the one.” You sigh.

Jongseob snorts, pulling the cherry soda vape from his lips and asking, “Why do you think Eunseok will hate him?”

“He hates Lacrosse guys ‘cause he didn’t make the team, I figured it would hit a soft spot.” You smile and shrug.

“Hold on, the plot thickens,” Bahiiyih announces, eyes on her phone screen. “Do you guys remember that guy Nayeon had a crush on in freshman year?”

A chorus of confirmation causes her to grin, “I’m pretty sure it was this guy.”

You push yourself off your bed to peek over her shoulder at record speed, “No fucking way. How do you know?”

“I backread in the group chat, and she sent a picture of him, look!” She turns her phone for everyone to see, and from the slightly blurry and oddly angled photo that she obviously tried to take secretly, you can certainly see a resemblance, “Am I hallucinating, or is that him?”

“No that definitely looks like him,” Belle agrees, turning her head to face you with her jaw slack and a look, “He’s the one.”

“How are we gonna convince him to fake date you, though?” Jongseob asks, and you roll your eyes.

“Leave the planning to those qualified, Seob.”

You, all things considered, would call yourself a professional at annoying men. From years of experience before your brother moved out, you learned every which way to annoy him, and more importantly, boys in general. You are also smart enough to understand that his best friend, Jungkook, is your ticket to getting closer to the lacrosse team, aka Riki, even if you have to deal with Jake’s flirting and Heeseung’s annoyingly beautiful smile, you will get through it purely out of spite. 

When you get to school extra early the day before the semester is set to start, parking your car and turning your sights to where you knew he took the team to practice in the mornings, and where you knew he would be even if he and your parents got back from New York just last night. “A hoe never gets cold.” You mumble the chant to yourself over and over as you turn off your car’s engine and the warm air stops blowing. 

You curse rather loudly when you open your door and are met with a frigid breeze that makes your body clench to preserve its warmth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

With your school bag on your shoulder and a thick white puffy jacket lined with fleece that keeps your torso warm, you speed walk toward the field, which the student parking lot happens to be in relative close proximity to. 

The sight of you approaching is enough to stop a good half of the players in their laps around the field, a typical start to Jungkook’s diabolical training regimen. The distraction you pose catches the man of the hour’s attention, and when he turns to face the source, he seems shockingly displeased. With a barked order to keep running thrown at the stopped players, he turns to you again and asks, “What are you doing here?”

Your lips part in dramatic offense, “You seem unhappy to see me and I don’t appreciate it.”

Rolling his eyes and pulling two hotpacks from his bag on the ground and handing them to you, he repeats, “What are you doing at school so early?”

Shrugging, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets and glance at the team, catching the eye of Sunoo and winking as he passes by. “I’m bored and single. What better way to spend my time than watching lacrosse players train in frozen hell?”

Jungkook’s face tells you he’s far less than impressed, and he seems at a loss for words. You decide to let him in on your plan, not seeing any harm in doing so.

“Okay, I’m trying to ruin Eunseok's day, every day, by reminding him I have a hotter, taller, and more athletically skilled boyfriend than he ever was or could be,” You start, “And I’m calling in a favor.”

“What favor? You don’t do shit—“

“Okay then, tell me more about him or I’ll tell my brother about what really happened to his Audi last Christmas.” The Audi in question had a large scuff on the back bumper that Jungkook had paid you three hundred dollars to take the blame for, which while your brother was upset, you knew he’d be far angrier if he knew the truth. Jungkook knew that too.

If the cold wasn’t already doing the job, you would say he lost all color in his face. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you take the moment of his speechless horror to take another glance at the team. 

When you meet the eyes of the familiar boy in a dark red hoodie with the number 10 on it you feel your face warm up involuntarily. Instinctively, you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, something that’s never happened to you, and quickly turn back to the coach (not before catching sight of the slight tug at the corner of #10’s plump lips). “So?”

Jungkook sighs, “Which one?”

“Number 10.”

Immediately, the man shakes his head, “Nuh-uh.” At the raise of one of your eyebrows, he quickly explains, “He’s one of my best players, I don’t need him being distracted by my best friend’s kid sister.”

You roll your eyes, “If you have a better option for me, then please, do share.”

“What about Jungwon?” 

“Tight ass,” You say barely a breath later, eyes watching said player jog past, lingering on his backside as he moves away, “In more ways than one.”

“Okay, stop.” Jungkook says, disgust on his face, “What about Taehyun.”

“He’s Dr. Evil and Jungwon is his mini-me, they’re both so strict they’d never agree.”

He makes a face, point heard, before suggesting one last player in a last-ditch effort, “Jak—”

“If the name Jake Sim leaves your mouth I’m setting your Mercedes on fire.” 

His mouth shuts automatically, and he sighs. 

“So, tell me about him.”

“Why don’t you go ask?”

You give him a look that read, don’t be fucking stupid.

“Ugh, fine. What do you wanna know?” Jungkook caves, blowing the whistle around his neck, signaling the team to start the next warmup, pushups. 

“What’s his favorite color?” You ask, obviously pulling his leg considering the grin on your face.

“Nishimura!” He immediately calls, and number 10 looks up from his position on the ground. You don’t look longer than a moment, your spine straightening up automatically when his eyes meet yours once again, “What’s your favorite color?”

You don’t look, but you can bet money that he probably looks confused considering your brother’s best friend tells him to ‘just answer the damn question’, and then you hear his voice. 

“Black.”

Fuck, this is bad. The little shit in you wants to say that black isn’t technically a color, that it’s the absence of such, but the thought of looking at him and saying something like that makes your palms go clammy and your heart beat out of your chest. His voice is deep, and with the exertion in it from the warmup, you think you might just have to throw yourself into an active volcano.

“Mine is green, coach!” 

“I didn’t ask, Huening.” Your lips flatten, your hand flying to cover your mouth as you try not to giggle. Instinctively, you look at Kai, whose ears have gone red in embarrassment, and you take pity.

“I like green too, Kai.” You say loudly for him to hear, and his head perks up to look at you.

“I like blue!” Jake pipes in, all too eager to include himself.

“Nobody asked, Jake.” Jay grunts, on his hundredth push-up and losing patience.

Jungkook blows the whistle again, “Burpees.”

“You’re a monster.” You muse, watching the team lose all faith in a heavenly being as they do what he says. Every jump grants you the sight of rock-hard abs, so you're not really complaining. 

“Stop ogling the team, it’s gross.” Jungkook hisses, “What else do you want to know?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Type?”

He makes a face, “I don’t know. He’s a teenager, probably anything that breathes in his direction.” 

“Age?”

“Turned 18 in December, the team threw him a pizza party.”

“Beginning or end of December?” You ask quizzically.

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook huffs, “Why does it matter?”

“I need to know if I’m dealing with a Sagittarius or a Capricorn. Please, please, tell me he isn’t a Capricorn.”

“Jesus Christ…” Thinking about it, Jungkook answers, “I think it was in the first week?”

A sigh of relief leaves you, “Thank god. I cannot stand an earth sign.”

“I’m an earth sign.” 

“And it took me ages to forgive you for that.”

“Okay, go away.” Jungkook shakes his head, obviously annoyed and desperate to get rid of you.

“But I’m not—“

“Nishimura.” Dread fills you, and before you can stop him from opening his mouth again, number 10 stands up.

“Yeah, Coach?”

“Walk this one to her car.”

Confusion is etched on his pretty face, but he nods, jogging over as you curse at Jungkook quietly enough for him and the lord to hear but not the approaching lacrosse player.

When he stands just a few feet away, waiting for you to start walking with him, you turn to face him and feel a jolt in your stomach. He’s tall. 

You already knew this but seeing it with your eyes is a different experience than seeing photos of it. Get a grip, bitch.

Offering him a condescending smile, a defense mechanism to keep yourself from humiliating yourself by showing how affected you are, you shoot your brother’s friend the finger and begin to make your way off the field.

You pass Riki, not even sparing him a look as you do so, but listening to make sure he’s following. With his much longer legs, it isn’t long before he’s walking just slightly behind you, not at your side but close enough for you to sense his presence. When you make it to your car in what felt like awkward silence to you but was probably nothing to him, you heave a sigh of relief when she unlocks and you open the door. 

Not sitting yourself inside yet, despite the cold and the fact your body hurts from it, you turn to face him.

“This yours?” He asks. God, that voice again.

You hum in confirmation, “Her name is Manon.” 

“Nice name.” He compliments, and you tilt your head, looking between his eyes and glancing down to his mouth every so often. He swallows almost unnoticeably, “What’s yours?”

Resisting the urge to ask if he truly didn’t know, you conclude that would sound far too conceited, and tell him your name. 

He tries it out, and you can see the tip of his tongue flick across his teeth before he says, “I’m Riki.”

“I know.” You say shamelessly, “You can go back to practice, now.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think the slight smirk that tugs at his lips is of annoyance, but with the way his eyes look down your face every other second, you know exactly what you’re doing. He blinks, turning his body slightly to walk away, “Yeah.”

You wait until his back is to you to slide into your driver’s seat, quickly pulling your phone out to text the group chat.

bitchqueen: guys this is bad

bitchqueen: he’s HOT

bitchqueen: i can’t do this 

Glancing back up to see if Riki left, you sigh in relief when he’s nowhere to be found. You look back down when your phone dings. bellenotdelphine: eunseok bought nayeon a van cleef bracelet

bitchqueen: okay bitches im back

myrootcame2005: ur resolve inspires generations

Going back to school wasn’t so bad, or at least it isn’t as bad you thought it would be. You were the only licensed driver in your friend group, and as such you expected to have a full car every morning, picking up Belle first as she lived down the street, and then Jongseob and Eunchae, who grew up neighbors in a neighborhood you pass on the way to school. Bahiyyih usually gets a ride with her brother, though she does complain his truck still smells like the musky car freshener he spilled back when he got it.

After parking and putting on your shoes that you’d taken off because you hate driving with them on, you had Belle hand you your backpack from at her feet and the four of you exited the car into the frigid weather. “Jesus fuck, why is it so cold?”

Belle huddled by you as you sped walked to the school doors, where you finally took notice of the stares directed your way. Ignoring the staring was the easy part, having a freshman walk up to you and ask, “Hey, is it true you destroyed your boyfriend’s car with a crowbar?” was hard to avoid.

Belle seems ready to tell them to fuck off but you smile sweetly, “It was a fire poker, actually, and destroyed is a strong word. Also, who the fuck are you?”

You got in enough trouble with your parents when they found out, these people could at least get the facts right. When the 14 year old boy opens his mouth to answer, you make a face, “I don’t actually care.”

Ignoring that encounter, you would say it was a relatively normal day. AP classes already gave you packets and mounds of homework, but with the semester classes you took last year you only had 5 periods of the day before being allowed to go home, perks of being a senior, you guess. The fact almost every class you had was an AP class was a definite downside, though.

The only AP class you didn’t have happened to be Medical Microbiology, which you had dreaded to take but it was the same teacher you had last semester for A&P who loved you enough to exempt you from the final without you having to submit the form like everyone else, and luck was on your side it seemed because while you were seething to find that Nayeon was in your 5th period class, the sight of the seating chart and the name labeled next to yours made you decide to postpone ingesting whatever deadly chemical Mrs. Wilson had in her locked cabinet.

Nishimura, Riki

The short curly-haired woman seemed overjoyed to see you, of course, and like clockwork you handed her a small pink box containing her favored cookie from the shop down the road, earning yourself a nice sidehug. 

You know a way to a teacher's heart, which had made your high school experience better than most could imagine, though Mrs. Brooks from Pre-AP English freshman year was a cunt and you gave up on making her like you within the first month. Sitting down at your seat, which happened to be somewhat close to her desk, you were looking down at the packet she’d left stacked on the table by the door for students to take from as they came in when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Growing up with a brother gave you a good understanding of how boys worked, and when you saw no one in your periphery, you looked to the opposite side, seeing the familiar lacrosse player. You dread small talk, though when the late bell rings as he sits down, you thank the heavens you don’t have to. 

Moving your hair off your shoulder, you took a pink mechanical pencil from your matching pencil case as Mrs. Wilson started speaking.

“Hey.” He leans ever so closer, whispering to get your attention, “Can I borrow a pencil?”

The raised eyebrow you send his way makes his raise his own, and you roll your eyes, grabbing one of the orange ones you never used and handing it to him, when you notice his look between the two pencils, you say, “Can’t risk you taking one of my good ones.”

He rolls his eyes this time, but starts writing his name with it anyway. At first, he uses his right hand, but ten minutes into the lecture about the staining process, he switches hands.

It isn’t annoying until he starts intentionally brushing your elbow with his own, and you know it’s intentional because when the word you’re writing comes out jagged and you look at him, he has a smug look on his face while avoiding meeting your eyes, snickering softly when you erase the word you deemed too ugly to continue writing. You turn in your seat, facing away from him and rotating your paper with you as you cross one leg over the other, it was easier writing this way anyway.

With your new angle, you can see Nayeon glancing over every now and then in the corner of your eye. 

Now, to say your reputation wasn’t ruined but in fact reinforced by everyone finding out about what you did to Eunseok’s car, was a factual statement. You didn’t like the term ‘anger management issues’ which is what the therapist your mother made you see last year used to describe your behavior. 

In your humble opinion, Jaclyn Delvacchio deserved the bruise you left on her brow bone and is honestly lucky you didn’t get a good enough hit in before the history teacher pulled you off of her, maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut about Eunchae’s braces.

Then, there was Kaley Graham in your freshman year, a sophomore who told you to stay away from your then-situationship, Eunseok, to which you responded to her threats by grabbing her head and slamming her face into the window of an active classroom. You thought the photos of her face smashed against it were funny, the school and your suddenly-present father did not.

So really, you’re already labeled a crazy bitch, violent, ‘untameable’(as you'd heard uttered by boys you wouldn't touch with a twenty foot pole). You might as well act like it.

When the bell rings 45 minutes later, you breathe a sigh of relief, finally time to go home.

You don’t notice he’s waiting for you until you’ve gathered your things and taken your keys out. He leans against his desk, waiting for you with observant eyes that land on the key-fob in your hand before moving up to your eyes. “Free period?”

You nod, “as are the next two.”

He whistles low as the both of you walk out, “I didn’t get any free periods, you’re lucky.”

“Lacrosse?” You ask, and he nods with a small grimace.

“And I failed Chem last year, so I’ve got to take it again.” He sighs, “I’m not great with all the math.”

“AP?” You ask innocently, and he snorts.

“God no. Regular.” He states, raising a brow as he adds, “Did you take AP?”

You hum, nodding, “Yeah.”

“So, if I come to you with a radiation equation, would you help me?” He asks in a way that almost feels teasing.

“It’s called a nuclear equation, and I suppose I could be persuaded.” You stop in front of the double doors at the front of the school, and from how others are rushing through the halls you assume the bell is going to ring soon.

“Could I try to persuade you after lacrosse practice? I’m gonna be late for Chem.” He says, though his tone is anything but worried, just like the smirk on his face.

“There’s a cafe next to the nail salon down the road, I might be there when lacrosse practice is over.” You hint, before turning to leave without another word.

After texting the group chat about the plan to meet up with Riki after his practice ends, you felt good. Flirting came easy, especially when you wanted something, which obviously was the case with him, but you weren’t oblivious to the fact he was flirting back. 

hueningbarbie: damn u act fast

bitchqueen: i'm just a girl who knows what she wants and gets it ;)

hongchae: do you think he’ll agree?

bitchqueen: if he doesnt i think jake is my only other option

bitchqueen: killing myself means i let them win

bellenotdelphine: jake is NEVER the only option

bellenotdelphine: hang in there queen

You sit in a worn out booth facing the big wall of windows lining the front of the hole-in-the-wall cafe. Part of you regrets choosing it considering Gloria, the old lady who always takes your order and brings you your food, seemed all too excited when you said you were waiting for a boy that wasn’t Eunseok. 

You try not to look up every time you see a car pull into the strip center of cafes and food joints, only glancing when you see a black Jeep pull into the parking spot next to your car, quickly acting like you weren’t looking when the familiar lacrosse player hopped out of it with wet hair and the same sweatshirt with his jersey number and name on it.

It isn’t until he slides into the booth across from yours that you look up from the menu you weren’t even reading, “How was practice?”

He sighs, leaning back into the booth and you feel his shoe brush yours, “Coach had me on offense,” he says, rubbing his side with a wince.

“Want some tiger balm?” You ask nonchalantly, reaching into your purse to pull out the small container of it you keep to help with the pain you get from looking down and taking notes, not to mention scrolling through social media, too.

He takes it with a whispered please, and you try not to watch as he moves his hand under his shirt to rub it in. Bahiyyih was right.

“Any drinks, mija?” Gloria appears beside your booth with a knowing look on her face as she looks between you two, “and you?”

“Dr Pepper, please.” You order with a smile, and she affectionately rubs your arm with a nod before looking at Riki, who repeats you.

When Gloria walks away to get the drinks, Riki seems curious, “I come here a lot.”

Nodding, he says, “I figured. What’s good, here?”

“Oh, everything is good. Do you recognize anything on the menu?” When he shakes his head, you try not to act offended, and say, “The enchiladas are really good, but if you’re picky I would get the tacos.”

“Mm, I’ll get an enchi-“ he struggles to mimic your pronunciation of the word, and you laugh quietly.

“Enchiladas?” You ask with a cheeky smile, and he scrunches his face up in shame, “It’s okay, it’s hard to say.”

“You’re good at it.” He states, not an opinion, a fact.

“I am.” You agree, and the smile on his face is enough to send your heart into your throat. Get. A. Grip. “Like I said, I come here a lot.”

“So, what do I have to do to persuade you to help me pass Chem?” He asks after Gloria sets down your drinks and takes your orders(sending you a hidden wink as she turns to walk into the kitchen), and you realize now's the time to bring up your plan.

“So, I actually have a proposition for you.” You admit, and he leans forward a little, curious to hear it. When you say it, albeit a slow and awkward version of what you intended to say as the nerves got the better of you because of that damn look in his eyes, you swear you almost see his face drop a little. 

“So you want to…fake date? To make your ex jealous.” He sounds unsure, and you quickly shake your head.

“Not jealous, I kinda just want to ruin his day...everyday.” You state, “I’m the crazy bitch, you’re the hot athlete. Match made in heaven, right?”

He seems to take the ‘hot’ comment well, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “So, what are the rules? If we’re dating, do we have to go all out or just spread the word?”

“Spreading the word only works for so long,” you say, pleased by his question, “Kissing is a bit much, especially since it’s only been a few weeks since I dumped him. If we move too fast everyone will think you’re my rebound. We should take it slow.”

“So…” he thinks for a second, “Holding hands?”

You hum in agreement, “Get me flowers, too.”

“What’s your favorite kind?” The question shouldn’t throw you off, but it hits you rather suddenly that you’d never been asked that by a guy, especially not Eunseok. 

“Lilies.” You say, “And baby’s breath.”

He nods, taking a mental note of that just as Gloria comes out with your food. The enchiladas were a win, he devoured them like he hadn’t eaten for years, though there was a pause in the process when he insisted on trying the salsa you had poured generously over your own food, which was far too spicy for him, to your delight.

You exchanged numbers outside of the restaurant after paying(he had picked up the bill before you could grab it), and as you were putting a name to his number, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

Laughing at the look on your face, he subtly motions behind you, and when you glance back you find about five girls no older than 16 piled into a Corolla and staring, but snapping their eyes away and hiding when you meet their gazes.

Turning back to him, you swallow the sudden lump in your throat when you see he’s already looking at you.

“Good catch.” You cough, ignoring the smug smirk growing in his face, “I’ll text you.”

“Okay.” He says, waiting for you to move away before he does, and you find yourself sucking in a deep breath and turning to get into your car.

“So he agreed?” Belle asks from the passenger seat of your car, “I told you, teenage boys are easy.”

You pull into your parking spot in the school lot, pulling down the ugly parking pass they make you hang from the rearview mirror that you always tuck back up when you leave because it's an eyesore, “We tried to work out the technicalities last night but I fell asleep on the phone.” 

Eunchae gasps as if scandalized, “You fell asleep on the phone with him? That’s so cute.”

You groan, “I know, it’s embarrassing!” Getting out of your car, you try to withhold a groan when you immediately spot Jake practically skipping over, a cheeky grin on his face. Shit.

You don’t hide your displeasure when he calls your name, shooting a giggling Belle the finger before turning to give him attention you know you’d regret, “You and Niki?”

“Is that any of your business?” 

He starts giggling, the grin on his face widening as he starts hopping around like an excited puppy, “No way! You gotta tell me how he fi—“

“Jake!” A girl from the cheer squad calls his name from across the courtyard, and he whirls around to wave with a flirty smile.

By the time he turns back to you, you’re already walking away with the girls. “We’re talking about it in 2nd!”

“No we’re not!” You call back, waving your hand dismissively. Eunchae snorts, hooking her arm with yours as the three of you walk through the entrance. Jongseob had come in early with his other friend group for club prep, so his presence is sorely missed. 

“Do you think he’ll get you flowers?” The junior on your arm asks, and you shrug.

“I mean, maybe.” Your answer makes Belle roll her eyes.

“Manifest it, or…” She stops in front of your 1st class of the day, ready to drop you off, and a grin overtakes her face, “Bitch.”

You step closer to see when she sees, and at your assigned seat is a bouquet of the same flowers you told Riki you liked, pink and white lilies with baby's breath sprinkled in. Habitually, you bite your lip to withhold the smile, sliding your arm out from Eunchae’s and walking in.

The girl who sits next to you, Hikaru, has an almost fox-like grin on her face as she sees you finally arrive. She says a few things that you hum in response to as you pluck the tiny folded card from between the blossoms, opening it and allowing Belle and Eunchae to peek over your shoulder to read it with you. “Shut up!” Belle practically squeals.

For: Pretty

“God.” You sigh, closing the note and grabbing the bouquet from Eunchae who had picked it up to smell them, “I wonder where he got these.”

“I don’t know but they look expensive.” Belle muses with a grin and you hum in agreement with a smile.

A text tone dings from your phone, a familiar one that makes you groan. When you look at your screen your jaw clenches and shifts.

spermdonor: lunch? we need to catch up.

You suspect your mom told him about how you get off early now, cursing the woman mentally as you send back a simple thumbs up to her ex-husband. 

Between 1st and 2nd period, you had put the bouquet in your car to avoid walking around with it, and you’re so very thankful you did with the annoying grin on Jake’s face as you sat across from him in College Algebra.

“You and Niki.” He repeats with a cheeky raise of his brows, his grin unaffected by the look of utter distaste on your face at his presence.

“What about Riki and me?” You ask monotonously, clearly unimpressed with the prompt.  

“You guys datin’?” He asks cheekily, clearly already aware that you went on a ‘date’, but wanting to hear it from you.

“If I say we went on a singular date will you leave me alone?” You ask with a sigh, using your knuckle to massage your temple.

Jake shakes his head with a shit-eating grin, “Not a chance.”

You groan softly as the bell rings, and the sigh of relief is quickly smothered with your hopes of escaping this period without having to answer a question as a familiar substitute walks in, Mr. Morrell, a nice old man who usually just lets everyone do their own thing. He’s your mortal enemy now, you’ve decided.

The moment he announces those wretched words, ‘free day’, your fate is sealed.

Jake is snickering like a freak, leaning over his desk as if you aren’t just a few feet away from him, “You and Riki.” He giggles, and you look at him as if he’s possessed and it disgusts you.

“Please, leave me alone.” You say with a bit more emotion than your last few words.

Jake is too busy giggling like a little girl to listen or even hear what you said, nearly cutting you off as he asks, “Where was your first date?” 

“The Mexican place next to the nail salon down the street.” You answer monotonously, just wanting to get it over with at this point.

“Did he pay? He paid.” Jake asks then nods to himself as he says the last statement.

“Yes, he paid.” 

“Ooo, did he kiss you? Nah, Niki’s way too pussy to do that—“

You cut him off with an invisible twitch of your brow, “He gave me a solid kiss on the cheek.”

It’s as if you’ve broken the already clearly leaking dam of pure giddy delight. He’s practically squealing with a breathy and high-pitched ‘naur way~’, whipping out his phone you assume to text their group chat. He’s bouncing in his seat, and you make a face as you pull your desk an inch away from his desk to stop feeling the movements.

You open your coloring book you bring with you to classes when you have no other work, you have other work but you’d rather not do that while Jake giggles and grills you.

The rest of the period is filled with him asking questions you either answer shortly or choose to not answer at all. (“Do you think he’s the one?”)

You of course could not see was that across the campus Riki was hiding his phone in his lap wanting to sink into a hole and die as Jake spams the team group chat like a live tweet of his, though strongly condemned by him, weirdly thorough interview like your barely started kind-of-relationship is his favorite sitcom.

“Thank you, lord.” you sigh as the bell rings, freeing you of your torment as you grab your gathered and organized bag to pull over your shoulder and hasten out of the classroom before Jake can get you. (Yes, like a boogeyman.)

It seems you can’t catch a break as you find out Park Sunghoon is in your 4th period. Park Sunghoon, jersey number 23, goalkeeper of the Decelis Demons. Also, you’ve decided, another mortal enemy. 

You don’t even know how you hadn’t noticed him all semester or the semester prior, given how awkwardly talkative he is. Sitting beside you with a cute but unsettling smile, holding out his hand like he was meeting a celebrity, which you weren’t exactly complaining about but the smile was weird. He was almost just as bad as Jake, if not worse simply because he freaked you out a bit. Seriously, why is someone so beautiful so fucking weird. His moles look like constellations but something about his vibes unsettle you.

It isn’t like you don’t have weird friends, you’ve watched Jongseob stuff fifty chile-coated gushers into his mouth purely because Eunchae told him he couldn’t. Weird usually isn’t the issue, except it is in this scenario. 

Escaping him and getting to go to your teacher’s aid period was like a shining of heaven’s pure light on you. You find yourself grading papers in the back of the classroom while your freshman-year Latin teacher plays Hercules in New York on the projector, a purple glitter pen in your hand as you go through the stack of exams.

“Hey,” one of the freshmen a cluster of desks away calls to you in a semi-hushed voice, halting the movement of your glitter pen and directing your attention to them, “your boyfriend’s waiting at the door.”

‘I don’t have a boyfriend’, parts your lips before you suddenly remember that Riki exists and halt before it can leave them. Looking to the closed door of the classroom, you find the boy in question peering through the small window in the door, and raise an inquisitive brow.

He only waves at you, a clear signal he wants you to come out and talk to him, part of you wonders why he knew where you were but memories of the phone call the night you both agreed on the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, exchanging school schedules and discussing preferences, come back to you and you nod lightly.

Mrs. B looks up from her laptop as you cap the glitter pen, “Don’t be gone too long.” 

Shooting her a smile and a small ‘yes ma’am, thank you’, you get up from the desk and shoot the snickering freshmen a weak glare as you walk to the door, opening it just enough to side step out of the room and shut it behind you.

“Hey.” is the first thing he says, his voice is deep despite its softness, mindful of the other classes going on in the language hall as well as the other teens clearly trying to get a good look at him as the door closes behind you.

You say it back just as softly, “Hey.”

He smiles just a bit, a boyish quirk of his lips that has your heart picking up, get a fucking grip, bitch. “I’m sorry about Jake and Sunghoon.”

The mention of them has you pressing your lips together with a nearly-sympathetic smile, “It’s okay.”

“No, they’re…a lot.” He chuckles softly, though his words are still genuine, “I don’t want you to get scared away.”

Something in your heart flutters, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a soft laugh that has his eyes darting to your smile. “Sunghoon was…weird, but I already knew that Jake’s a pest, so…”

He laughs at your words, head shaking slightly, “Still, I’m sorry about them.”

“It’s fine, really.” You say with a shake of your head. A student exits the Spanish class down the hall, pausing at the sight of you and Riki before walking in the direction of the bathrooms. 

Riki spares them little more than a brief glance over at the sound of the door shutting behind them before his gaze is back on you. God, why is he looking at me like that, you think just before he speaks again, “Do you bowl?”

The question catches you off guard, and you tilt your head and ask, “Like do I know how or do I do it often?”

“Both.”

“Kinda and no.” You answer, “Why?”

He brings a hand up to rub the back of his head, your eyes darting to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate the movements of his arm and a few veins are visible up his arm, “Some of the guys and I were going this weekend, I…figured I’d ask.” 

His words are finished with a bit of hesitance that you have little time to linger on as you question with a slight laugh, “Did they ask you to bring me?” 

You see a slight pink tinge to the tips of his ears as his elbow drops yet his hand lingers on his trapezius, creating yet another visual that has you wanting to repeatedly slam your forehead into the wall beside you. He shakes his head slightly, “No, I, uh, wanted to bring you.”

The words are said with a soft laugh like he’s a bit embarrassed with himself, and you find your teeth catching your bottom lip to hold in the despicable grin that you know should not be growing on your face right now. You just broke up with your long-term boyfriend, wake up.

If Riki’s eyes dart to your lips, you don’t see it as you glance to the door of your class. “Then…yeah. I’ll come.” 

Your answer has his lips forming a pretty grin that he quickly covers up with a bite of his bottom lip and a nod, taking a step back as he prepares to leave, “Cool. I can pick you up, yeah?”

Yeah, you can. You nod, “Just text me.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you.” He finishes with another nod, and you giggle softly at his repetition. His eyes soften at the sound, another thing you don’t notice as you see the student returning from the bathrooms, glancing your way every so often as they approach the closed Spanish class door. 

Riki sees them too, and as they look over again, he leans down to press his lips to your cheek in a quick but sweet kiss, “See you next period.”

He shoots you a swift wink as he backs up again, and you put it together that he kissed you because of the third party in the hall. You exhale a soft response as he turns to jog off, clearly not meant to be gone from class as long as he has been, “Yeah.”

As soon as he turns the corner and you’re alone in the hall, you close your eyes for a long blink to bring yourself back to Earth. A soft curse leaves your lips as you turn back to the door to re-enter the Latin class, heart racing and hands slightly clammy. 

Clammy. 

The fact that a boy is making you feel so damn juvenile with the way you can’t help but react to his words and face and voice and eyes—

The walk to 5th period fills you with a sense of dread before you remember who else is in that class. Mrs. Wilson greets you happily as she sets up the activity for the day on the projector, which alerts you to the fact someone is standing by your seat who doesn’t belong there.

Riki has a look of confusion on his face as he looks up at Nayeon, clearly a bit confused by whatever is leaving her lips. The teacher’s greeting alerts the both of them to your presence in the doorway, where you paused at the sight of her. The corners of Riki’s lips quirk up at the sight of you, but Nayeon looks like she’s about to puke.

You don’t even speak. Something about the sight of pure panic in her eyes gives you a boost of serotonin but the fact that she’s standing in front of your ‘boyfriend's desk, speaking to him. Oh, you’re pissed. 

Yes, you are aware he isn’t actually your boyfriend and the two of you hadn’t even discussed publicly referring to each other as such, but the principle still stands. You want to punch her face.

Unfortunately, Mrs Wilson would be quite upset if you slammed Nayeon’s head into the whiteboard, and you like your teacher too much to debate starting a fight in her class. 

Your eyes follow Nayeon’s every move as she hastily removes her hands from where they were on his desk, avoiding your burning stare as she moves to her own seat. 

Walking to your desk, you smile at Riki as if what just happened has zero effect on you despite the burning fury in your gut, and sit down beside him. “Hey.”

Your soft greeting has him saying it in kind, shifting in his seat to lean back and see you better, “You know her?”

His question has you tilting your head in a faux innocence, “Mhm. Why?”

Riki has a slight knowing look on his face as he watches your reactions, “She had a lot to say about you.”

“What did she say?” You ask as if it’s a simple question, like you aren’t dying to know and anxiety isn’t clawing at your chest making it harder and harder to make your hands not shake. 

He shrugs with a purse of his lips, a slightly cheeky smile forms on his face as he asks, “You jealous?”

A scoff leaves your lips and your eyes roll before you can even think to hold the sass back, “Jealousy implies she’s better than me in some way.” You say with a defiant cross of your arms, “and she is not.”

“Then why’d you glare so hard?” He asks, clearly amused by both your words and body language.

You think, why did I not tell him about Nayeon?

The answer? Eunseok and Nayeon’s little affair had more of an effect on you than you would like to admit. Anxiety claws at you everytime you even imagine Nayeon interacting with Riki, and the fact that you just walked in on her saying something to him that your pride won’t allow you to ask him about just makes it all so much worse for you. 

The truth is that the irrational part of your brain, the one that often wins the battles against its more logical other half, made the thought of Riki knowing you were betrayed by your best friend all the more sickening to imagine. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. 

“I wasn’t glaring.” You argue, and Riki raises his brows as if to say ‘really?’ before he huffs softly in amusement and the bell rings.

“Yeah, you were.” He says with a lingering curiosity in his gaze before he looks to the board as Mrs Wilson starts class. Your first instinct is to argue, to be stubborn like you always are, but the lingering anxiety in your chest makes you want to never speak again just to find some kind of peace.

The entire time you take notes you aren’t truly absorbing any information, your brain is stuck on every possible thing that Nayeon could have said to him and how you’re gonna find out without directly asking either of them if possible.

You feel sick and he’s not even your real boyfriend.

Oh, fuck.

Between realizing you want Riki and remembering that you have to go to lunch with your father, you simply didn’t have enough time to achieve as much mental preparation as you’d like before lunch. The Italian restaurant you find yourself sitting inside with a menu in your manicured hands is a relatively ‘fancy’ establishment, at least if the $35 fettuccini alfredo was anything to go by.

Your dad is the one paying, so you aren’t all that mad about the prices considering the look in his eyes is enough to ruin your enjoyment of the basket of breadsticks between the two of you. If you thought it would make a dent in his bank account you’d order another plate of mozzarella sticks just to spend his money, but the satisfaction just wouldn’t be there. 

Punching his face might feel better.

“Am I gonna have to put you in anger management again?” His anger is hushed and composed, but the shift in his jaw and the patronizing look of disappointment on his face belied his composure. Always being hyper-aware of how people view him is one of the things you hate about your dad. His attitude takes a higher spot on the ‘Why You Hate Your Dad’ pyramid, though. 

“You can’t ‘put me’ anywhere.” You bite back as you dip the breadstick in your hand into the small bowl of marinara, “Eunseok deserved it.”

“You don’t get to decide what people deserve.” He argues, still so patronizing.

The feeling of being talked down to is one you're all too familiar with when it comes to your father. The man can’t accept his own faults, one of which being how shit of a father he was and is. You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your breadstick, half-drowning his words out with your own and the other half remembering every single thing coming from his lips to throw back in his face next time he cries about how you never reach out to him. 

“Eunseok is a smart and successful, young man. And you throw it all away for—“

Ah, you almost forgot how much more your father likes your ex than you. Offering him internships, a place at his firm when he graduates, none of which he’d ever even mentioned to you. You wouldn’t ever work for or with your father, but the fact he had never spoken a word about any chances to help you gain experience like he did your ex was as infuriating as it was unsurprising.

“I didn’t throw shit away.” You snap, “He cheated on me, you keep skimming over that detail, father.”

“I’m not skimming over it, it’s irrelavent.” He exhales, trying to calm his slightly raised voice, “And you know I hate it when you call me that..”

“Irrelevant? Oh, I’m sorry, should I have stayed with a boyfriend that sleeps with my best friend?” You scoff, sipping your Dr Pepper, “And if you wanted me to call you dad, you should've acted like one.”

“Hey.” He warns, yet you only roll your eyes. “Reaching out goes both ways—“

“I know you did not just say that to me.” 

“—and I am your father, so you speak to me with respect.” He finishes, voice raising slightly in frustration before he settles it back to a more composed volume.

“No.” You shake your head, “That’s not how shit works.”

“Yes,” He bites back sternly, “If you want me to keep funding your life you’ll—“

Normally, you let your father say whatever it is he wants to say, tell him you really don’t care what he thinks and then for about a month he doesn’t text you. Then it’s ‘I want to improve our relationship’ and ‘I feel like you’re drifting away’. Today was not a normal day, however.

“Then cut me off.” You say with a shrug, “You can’t hold that shit over my head like I ask for the money you send, which you only send because you know you’re a shit father and you feel guilty.”

He doesn't respond, his jaw shifting, so you continue. 

“And considering the fact that you are a cheater yourself, why the fuck would I listen to a word you say when it comes to my own love life?” You ask, not really caring that you aren’t exactly speaking quietly, “Eunseok deserved a fire poker to the face, and I used it on his car instead. Which is what Mom should have done when she found you with the nanny.”

“Quiet down, you’re making a scene.” He hisses, and you tilt your head and look around as if you give a single fuck. “I already took care of Eunseok’s car, which will be taken out of your allowance—“

Your eyes narrow at his words, “You paid to repair his car?”

Your father doesn’t skip a beat as he continues, “—Yes, I did. And you don’t get to throw the biggest mistake I’ve ever made back in my face—“

“Yes, I do.”

“—No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do.” You argue back stubbornly, continuing before he can speak over you again, “And you paid for Eunseok’s car, the same boy who fucked one of my best friends for months while actively dating me and you don’t see a single problem with that?”

“His parents were discussing pressing charges—“

“That’s when you tell them to go fuck themselves.” 

He sighs at your words, clearly sick of your temper (which you inherited from him), “You need to start handling your emotions better, you’re graduating this year.”

“I have literally witnessed you throw a chair in anger, get someone else to say that to me.” 

He seems ready to respond, when the waiter comes with the food, and you speak before he can, politely asking if you can get a to-go box for it instead. Your father doesn’t seem to have the guts to speak as the waiter glances between you both unsurely before nodding, “Of course.”

He takes the dish back and the moment he is out of ear-shot, your father says, “We aren’t done talking.”

“I am.” You shrug, clearly not willing or planning on sitting here any longer than you have to.

The waiter is back out with your to-go container wrapped in a bag that has mint-chocolates inside as well as a complimentary box of breadsticks that you’ll probably eat while crying your eyes out later. You ignore the stern orders from your father to sit back down, thanking the waiter with a polite smile and promptly walk out of the restaurant. 

The tears of frustration start falling the moment you’re in the safety of your car, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put the bag of food in the passenger seat and pull out of the parking lot, turning ‘this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift all the up as you drive the highway back home. You ignore the texts from your father, as well as the calls.

You’re at the red light before turning into your neighborhood when Riki’s caller ID shows up on the screen of your console, and you debate even answering, but wipe your eyes and clear your throat as you press the green answer button, “Hello?” 

Your voice is more stable than you expected it to be, and Riki responds in kind, “Hey, I just got out of practice—you okay?”

“M’fine, what’s up?” You say with an attempt at a sneaky sniffle, the thought of him knowing you’re crying is too humiliating. Part of you is disappointed he somehow could tell that something was up. The other part of you, the vulnerable and hurt teenage girl with daddy issues and a yearning to be listened to and understood, begs to just break down. 

He doesn’t seem to buy it, you hear the sound of keys jingling and then a car door opening and shutting, then he’s speaking again, “You sure?”

The light turns green, and you finally turn into your neighborhood, “I’m fine.” It’s almost a snap, one you instantly regret as you quickly say, “Sorry, just—“

“It’s okay,” He assures, and you feel even more guilty, more tears threatening to fall as your bottom lip trembles again. You’re pulling into your driveway as he continues, “Wanna talk about it over lunch?”

“I just got lunch with my dad, actually,” You say with a soft, bitter laugh, voice wavering and a soft curse leaving your lips the moment it does, “Fuck, sorry, this is just weird.”

He seems a bit panicked by the way your voice only turns more tearfilled as you apologize, “Hey, don’t worry about it, seriously—“ There’s a sound like a knock on the other end, and you hear him whisper something like ‘go away’ before he’s continuing, “—sorry I teased you earlier today, I, uh, thought I made you mad so I was calling to make up for it.”

A soft sob leaves you as you laugh with it, “I’m not mad about that, but I did wanna talk about it,” You sniffle, “About Nayeon, I mean.”

“You don’t have to, I was just messing with you.” You can imagine him shaking his head slightly as he speaks, “She didn’t really say much, just asked if we were dating.”

“What’d you say?” You find yourself asking.

He hesitates before answering, “Yeah.”

It sends a weird hot jolt to your stomach and your worried lips turn into a girlish smile that you quickly wipe off your face, “That’s okay, y’know. I’m pretty sure my friends have been telling everyone you’re my boyfriend, so the whole ‘taking it slow’ shit is out the window.”

He chuckles on the other end and it flips your stomach like a fucking pancake, “Great, I’m not that type anyway.”

(There’s a feral voice in the back of your conscience that screeches like it’s a beast gnawing at the walls of its enclosure.)

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes shut like you’re trying to come back to Earth and not hang up out of pure flustered reflex. You force out a response, “Just means we have to make it more believably genuine.”

“What’s your plan, pretty girl?” 

Oh, you want to bang your head into the steering wheel. “Do you mind coming over? I wanna discuss it in person but I just got home.”

You jaw slackens in shock at your own words, looking into the rear view and mouthing at yourself; Bitch, what the fuck—

“Yeah, sure. What’s the address?” His response is so natural and unperturbed the catastrophizing your brain has done in the last second slips away and you silently scream.

A second later you respond like normal, “I’ll text it to you.”

“Okay, I’m on my way, then.”

When the two of you hang up after a few more words, you realize what you have done and quickly turn off your car, grabbing the food and your purse and hastening into the open garage, struggling with the doorknob and pressing the garage door button before entering. 

Your room isn’t messy, per say, but your duvet is covered in cat fur, and you don’t even know if Riki’s allergic to them or not. “Gus, can you move, please?” You ask your cat as you begin to pull the duvet off your bed but he remains unmoving on the end of your bed.

He blinks at you slowly, and you sigh. 

After taking too much time carefully moving the duvet from under your cat and hurriedly tossing it into the laundry room while grabbing your spare to put on the bed instead, the doorbell rings.

With one(at least three) last look in the mirror to check your appearance, still in the outfit you changed into for lunch with your dad, you open the large iron front door.

“Hi.” You greet softly with a slight smile, and Riki has one himself that almost looks shy.

He bites his bottom lip and says back, “Hi.”

As you let him in, you look down at the door handle, waiting for him to step inside before shutting it behind him.

As his eyes move to assess his surroundings with slow steps, you catch up to him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling his hand from his pocket as you tug him along toward your room with unhurried steps. He lets you, though you hear the chuckle under his breath.

“That’s Gus. I hope you’re not allergic to cats.” is the first thing that leaves your mouth as you pull him into your cleaned room(though you’ll have to un-ass your closet later), and he gasped softly.

The voice that comes out next is higher in pitch and softer as he hesitantly approaches your loafing cat, who sniffs his fingers for a second or two before headbutting them. You witness Riki practically melt as he coos at the feline that happily receives his pets.

“Wanna guess his full name?” You jest, and he hums, looking over at you curiously but not halting his petting of Gus. “Gazpacho.”

Riki looks elated by the information, grinning so prettily you want to use the vintage lotus lamp on your nightstand to beat your head against, and he softly goes back to cooing, “Hi, Gazpacho.”

A giggle laugh leaves your lips that you quickly cover with your mouth and a quick avert of your gaze, eyes landing on the whiteboard against your wall. The fucking whiteboard.

“Oh, fuck.” leaves your lips before you can stop yourself but you’re already moving to grab the object of your doom, “Don’t look, close your eyes.”

Your demands are met with pure boyish defiance, and his eyes follow your movement to your closet door, opening it just enough to toss the whiteboard inside and quickly shutting it. “You saw nothing.”

He slowly pulls away from Gus with a growing suspicious smirk, “I’m scared to ask.”

“It’s just a whiteboard, nothing of consequence written on it, or anything.” You say with a purse of your lips.

“A whiteboard?” He questions with a tilt of his head.

You nod, moving away from your shut closet door and taking the opportunity to change the subject, “My stepdad’s a physicist.”

“Ooh, that’s cool.” He says with a thumbs up, taking the moment to move his eyes around the room as he had been distracted by the cat, “This is a nice house.”

“Thank you,” You respond softly out of instinct, “My mom’s a big lawyer too, so….”

“Ah, right, I think Jake mentioned that once.” He nods, sitting in the bean bag(you’ll have to break the news to Eunchae later).

You hum, sitting on the edge of your bed beside Gus and petting him, “What do your parents do?”

He has a slightly shy grin on his face as he says, “They own a pretty big dance studio.”

“That’s super cool.” You compliment with a tilt of your head, “Do you dance?”

If you could audibly coo at the redness blooming on the tips of his ears as he nods slightly you would, but you settle with a giggle that has him squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment, “I do, yeah.”

“I did ballroom for like, ten years.” 

It’s as if you’ve revealed a hidden treasure, and he asks, “Do you still know how?”

You immediately hold up a defiant hand, “I am not showing you, and it’s been years.”

He whines, hands moving to clasp pleadingly, “Aww, c’mon, I’ll take you to my family’s studio and show you mine.”

This piques your interest and you ask before you can think about it, tone playfully flirty, “Taking me to meet your parent’s so soon?”

He chuckles softly, voice still so low, “Like I said, I don’t like slow.”

It takes a few more minutes of pointless chatter(and many more flirty remarks that make you want to scream into your pillow) before you get to the core of your problems today; Nayeon.

“Okay, wait, so—she and your ex…were together?” He reiterates to better understand, and you nod, and he then asks, “In your house?”

“Why do you think I took the fire-poker to his car?” You shrug, and he has a half-grin on his face.

“I thought that rumor was exaggerated.” He admits, giving you an appreciative once over like he’s impressed, “You’ve got a temper, huh?”

“I’ve never overreacted in my life.” You say with a slight raise of your hands.

He nods with a slight smirk as if he absolutely believes you, “‘Course not.”

“Anyway, she had a major crush on you in freshman year, literally fantasized about your wedding and everything,” You blissfully expose, “And I already had my eyes on you so it all worked out.”

He nods with a hum and slight smirk, “I see, so I’m sweet revenge.”

“The sweetest.” You playfully flirt, and his eyes turn into shy crescents.

“So, who were your other options?” He asks after a few seconds to let the pink on his cheeks fade, and you grin.

“Jealous?” You mimic his tone from earlier in the day and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I am.” The admission falls naturally from his lips and your gut flips, “Curious, too.”

“Jungkook didn’t want me to choose you.” You respond with a tight smile.

His eyes widen, “Coach knows?”

“He’s got an idea.” You respond with a slight shrug.

“Did he suggest anyone else?”

“Jungwon,” You answer easily, snickering softly when he groans and throws his head back, “but he’s a tight-ass, he’d never agree.”

Riki snorts, and with a shrug says, “You’re pretty, I think he’d come around.” Your raised brow has him quickly changing the subject with a curious tilt of his head, “You already had your eyes on me, though?”

His question is cheeky and paired with a matching grin that makes you roll your eyes and fight nervous giggles as you say, “I never said that.”

“Really? ’Cause I heard you say it.” He seems much too determined to not let you move on from the subject but your mother loves to compare you to a mule in regards to obstinance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug innocently.

He leans forward slightly in the beanbag, his elbows resting on his knees, and that grin of his only widens. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re annoyingly persistent,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your words. You stand up, moving toward your desk under the guise of rearranging things that don’t need rearranging, mostly to avoid his knowing gaze.

Riki tilts his head, watching you with amusement. “You know, if you’re trying to throw me off, it’s not working.”

You glance over your shoulder, trying not to crack under the weight of his attention. “Throw you off from what? I’m just tidying.”

“Right. And I’m just here for the cat.”

“Good. Gus loves the attention,” you quip, folding your arms over your chest as you turn back to him.

“But I’m not done yet,” he says with mock seriousness, shifting in the beanbag like he’s settling in for the long haul. “What’s so bad about admitting you’ve been into me? I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself in a way that’s more playful than cocky, but you still roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck.

“Wow, humble too,” you shoot back, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.

“Hey, just stating facts. Can’t help it if you have great taste.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch just enough to make you squirm. “Besides,” he adds, his voice dipping lower, “you’re kind of making it obvious now.”

Your hands find your hips in defiance. “How, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he muses, standing up slowly, his movements deliberate as he closes the distance between you. “The way you got all flustered when I asked if you still know how to dance. Or how you won’t look me in the eye right now.”

You refuse to back down, lifting your chin as you meet his gaze. “I’m not flustered. And I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?”

He smirks, leaning just a little closer, his tone teasing. “Sure you are. But you’re still not answering my question.”

You blink innocently up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his eyes dart below your nose. “What question?”

Riki lets out a soft laugh, a mix of exasperation and amusement, as he shakes his head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” You shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but the proximity is starting to get to you.

He watches you for a moment, his smirk turning into something softer, though no less mischievous. “Alright, fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”

“Oh, how gracious of you.” Your sarcasm earns you a grin as he steps back and flops dramatically into the beanbag again, sprawling like he owns the place.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?”

“More like get on my nerves,” you mutter, though the twitch of your lips gives you away.

“Same thing.” He winks, and you hate how charming he looks doing it.

The smirk he gives you as he leans back has your stomach doing somersaults, but you refuse to let him see you sweat. Instead, you turn your attention to Gus, pretending to be more interested in your cat than in the boy currently making himself at home in your life—and your head.

As Riki lounges back in the beanbag, his eyes drift lazily around the room again, lingering on the neatly arranged desk and the wall beyond. “You’ve got a pretty organized vibe for someone who just tossed a whiteboard into a closet like it was a bomb.”

You freeze mid-pet, your hand hovering above Gus’s head. “You’re still on about that?”

“I mean, it’s a whiteboard. What kind of secrets could it possibly hold?” His tone is teasing, but the glint in his eyes says he’s not letting it drop.

You debate lying, but the little smirk playing on his lips tells you he won’t believe you anyway. “Nothing important. Just… research.”

“Research.” He repeats with an arched brow, “Like, ‘solving world hunger’ research or me research?“

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “I hate you.”

“Now I really have to see it.” He starts to rise, and you spring to your feet, blocking his path to the closet.

“Riki, no.”

“Riki, yes.” He steps closer, towering over you slightly, his grin widening as you try to stand your ground.

“Don’t make me sic Gus on you,” you warn, pointing toward the loafing cat.

“Gus and I are best friends now. He’d never betray me.” Riki gestures toward the cat, who yawns dramatically like he’s staying out of it.

“Traitor,” you mutter at Gus, which earns you a laugh from Riki.

“C’mon,” he cajoles, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly soft tone that makes your heart do weird flips. “What’s the worst that could happen if I see it?”

Your resolve wavers, but the idea of him actually reading the whiteboard is too mortifying, “I’ll have to kill you.”

His grin only widens at your threat, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Wow, straight to murder, huh? Didn’t realize you were so passionate about…whatever’s on that board.”

“You have no idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It doesn’t work. Riki’s grin turns smug, like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Now I really need to know.” He leans closer, and the proximity sends your heart into overdrive. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him as he tilts his head, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. “What if it’s, like, a shrine to me or something?”

The gasp you let out is equal parts offense and panic. “You think way too highly of yourself.”

“I don’t know,” he teases, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. “I’ve heard people do wild things when they’ve got a crush.”

“Bold of you to assume—”

“You’re avoiding the question again.” He cuts you off, smirking as he steps back just enough to lean casually against the end of your bedframe, his arms crossed. “What’s on the whiteboard, really?”

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. There’s no way you’re admitting to the utterly ridiculous pros and cons list your friends talked you into. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s… study stuff,” you finally say, your tone lacking conviction. “School projects, maybe some physics equations. Boring things you wouldn’t care about.”

“Physics equations?” he repeats, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, because I look like the kind of guy who’d buy that excuse.”

“Hey, I’m trying here,” you snap, which only makes him chuckle again.

“I can tell. You’re terrible at it.” His grin softens slightly, the teasing replaced with something that feels a little too close to genuine. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to tell me.”

You blink at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone but immediately suspicious of it. “Really?”

“Sure.” He shrugs, though there’s still a playful glint in his eyes. “But now I have leverage. You’ll owe me later.”

“Owe you for what?” you demand, but the smug look on his face says you won’t get an answer you like.

“For letting you off the hook, obviously.” He straightens and gives you a wink before heading back to the beanbag like he didn’t just upend your entire equilibrium. “Don’t worry—I’ll think of something good.”

You stare at him, your jaw slightly agape, as he makes himself comfortable again. Gus hops onto his lap, clearly picking sides, and Riki’s attention shifts back to your cat like nothing happened.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, though you can’t quite keep the fondness out of your voice.

He glances up, his smirk softening into a smile that’s entirely too charming. “And you love it.”

You hate that you do.

The week passes by with a dreadful speed, and after four whole days of anxiety-induced stomach aches, migraines, and a few breakdowns in the dark privacy of your room at midnight, it is the weekend. 

It is the weekend, and Belle, Hiyyih, and Eunchae bear witness to a minor crash-out.

“I’m gonna puke.” You mumble, sitting on the ottoman at the center of your walk-in closet with your face in your hands as the older two walk around you, going through your options for an outfit.

“Keep that shit in bitch,” Belle says without looking away from the clothes hanging in your closet, pointing a finger blindly at you in warning, “You puke, I puke.”

Eunchae moves towards your hunched form from her spot on your bean bag(which she moved into your closet to sit on), snickering softly as she sits beside you and brings her hand to rub circles on your back. “There, there.”

A part of you wants to snap at her that she isn’t funny, but the act is weirdly comforting so you let her continue. Bahiyyih speaks from where she is in front of your shoe shelf, “Why do you have so many shoes?”

“My mom gets sent them monthly by some guy she was a lawyer for a while ago,” You exhale as you drop your hands into your lap, eyes still closed as you contemplate opening them ever again, “She hates wearing pumps now so she gives them to me or regifts them.”

“What if you wear these?” Hiyyih holds up a pair of Louboutins, and you open your eyes to see before looking at her like she’s crazy.

“Not only is it bowling and I’m gonna have to change shoes anyway, but I’m not wearing a So Kate for something that isn’t even a date, Hiyyih.”

She pouts her bottom lip as she puts them down, and Belle pulls a top from the collection of them hanging in your closet and holds it up in question towards you. After a few seconds of staring at the article of clothing, debating if you remember looking cute in it or not, you nod and she tosses it into the ‘maybe’ pile. 

Two seconds later, you’re hunching over and blindly grabbing a pillow near you to scream into.

Eunchae pats your back again, her snickering turning into full-blown laughter. “Feel better now, drama queen?”

You lift your head just enough to glare at her over the pillow. “No.”

“Good,” Belle says, tossing another shirt into the ‘definitely not’ pile without even showing it to you. “Because if you puke or scream again, I’m calling your mom and telling her you’re being insufferable. She might take those Louboutins back.”

“That’s not funny,” you mumble into the pillow.

“It’s a little funny,” Hiyyih chimes in, holding up a sequined crop top like it’s the Holy Grail. “Okay, but seriously, what about this? It says ‘I’m fun,’ but not, like, too fun.”

Eunchae tilts her head at it. “It also says ‘I moonlight as a disco ball.’”

You groan, sitting up straight and snatching the crop top out of Hiyyih’s hands. “Why is this so hard? It’s bowling! I should just wear sweatpants and call it a day.”

Belle spins around with the precision of a K-drama villain. “Don’t you dare. Do you want to show up looking like his cousin who just rolled out of bed, or like the mysterious, unattainable enigma that you are?”

“Unattainable?” you ask with a hesitant furrow of you brows.

“Yeah, unattainable, as in: unattainable by anyone else but him,” Belle clarifies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re playing the long game, babe.”

“You say that like this is some kind of psychological warfare,” you deadpan.

Belle shrugs. “It kind of is.”

Eunchae raises a hand like she’s in class. “But what if he’s bad at bowling? Like, gutter ball after gutter ball bad? Do you let him win or destroy him?”

You pause, genuinely considering it. “Destroy him, obviously.”

“Bold choice.” Hiyyih nods approvingly, tossing a pleated skirt into the maybe pile. “What if you’re bad, though?”

You gasp. “That’s not even an option.”

Belle smirks. “So confident for someone who hasn’t touched a bowling ball since middle school.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me, not roasting me!” You grab the nearest pillow and launch it at her. She dodges with ease, laughing as it smacks into the closet door behind her.

“Roasting you is my way of helping you,” Belle retorts, unfazed. “It’s called multitasking.”

Eunchae picks up the discarded pillow and hands it back to you, patting your head like you’re a distressed pet. “There, there. At least you’ll look cute while you embarrass yourself.”

“Why are all of you like this?” You drop your head back into your hands, half tempted to cancel the whole thing.

“Because we love you,” Belle sing-songs, pulling out a denim jacket that you forgot you even owned. “Now shut up and try this on. We’re on a schedule, ho.”

You sigh, begrudgingly taking the jacket as the three of them continue their chaotic brainstorming session around you. It’s not helpful in the slightest, but somehow, it makes you feel a little less like throwing up again.

By some miracle—or maybe just the collective force of Belle’s bullying, Eunchae’s comfort, and Hiyyih’s endless suggestions—you finally land on an outfit. The moment you pull the halter top over your head, the three of them fall silent, which is either a very good sign or a very bad one.

“Okay, that’s cute,” Belle finally declares, hands on her hips like she personally designed the top. “It’s giving effortless, but still hot enough to make him sweat.”

“It’s super cute on you,” Hiyyih chimes in, tilting her head as she appraises the outfit.

“It is,” Eunchae adds, grinning as she slides off the bean bag to circle you.

The cropped halter top clings just right, the rich color complementing your skin tone and making you feel…hot. Paired with the baggy jeans that sit low on your hips, the whole look is casual, but not too casual. You glance at the mirror, adjusting the jeans slightly and eyeing the way they pool at the hems over your socked feet.

“Am I pulling this off?” you ask hesitantly, smoothing the fabric of the top.

Belle snorts. “If he’s not staring, I’ll be personally offended on your behalf.”

Eunchae pretends to swoon dramatically, throwing herself back onto the bean bag. “The mysterious unattainable enigma strikes again.”

“Okay, but shoes,” Hiyyih cuts in, crouching by the pile of options at your feet. “You’re wearing sneakers, obviously, but which ones? The Nikes or the New Balances?”

You glance down, debating for a moment before pointing to the Nikes. “They’re cleaner.”

Belle raises an eyebrow. “Barely. When was the last time you cleaned your shoes?”

You glare at her, picking up a sneaker and threatening to launch it her way. She holds up her hands in mock surrender, moving to pull a jacket from the rack as she says, “Make sure you bring a jacket, though. It’s cold as shit.”

“Or she can not bring one and Riki can lend her his.” Eunchae suggests with a cheeky grin.

Belle promptly tosses the jacket into the back of your closet.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The nerves are still there, bubbling under the surface, but with your friends around—and an outfit that actually makes you feel cute—you start to think that maybe, just maybe, tonight won’t be a complete disaster.

riki 🙈: im here

“We’re seeing you off,” Belle declares, handing you the Prada bag she just stuffed your lip combo into. Hiyyih trails behind her, spritzing your neck and wrists with your favorite perfume.

The dread must be plastered all over your face because Eunchae immediately starts snickering from where she’s leaning against the doorframe. “We just wanna see his reaction.”

“To me or to you guys making kissy faces at him from the porch?” you deadpan.

The chorus of giggles that erupts from your three friends is all the answer you need.

“Oh, come on,” Belle says, looping her arm through yours as she drags you toward the front door. “We’ll behave.”

“You behaving is a scientific impossibility,” you mutter, trying to resist, but she’s got the strength of someone fully committed to the bit.

“Hold on,” Eunchae pulls something out of her hoodie pocket she must’ve forgotten was there until just now, uncapping the small bottle and holding it in front of your lips, “Open.”

You obey with a slight furrow of your brows, and she sprays it into your mouth, giggling when you flinch slightly in surprise and grimace at the strong mint taste. Eunchae grins, unzipping the bag on your shoulder just enough to slip it in before closing it, “To prevent food breath.”

The moment Belle opens the front door, your breath catches at the sight of Riki leaning casually against the passenger side of his Wrangler, hands tucked into his pockets. The golden light of the setting sun highlights the faint smirk on his face, his jewelry glinting as he shifts.

"Lord have mercy," you mutter under your breath.

You didn't expect him to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie, but you weren't prepared for this either. The necklaces layering his collarbones and the glint of piercings--does he have an eyebrow piercing?—are almost too much. You quickly shove down the spiral threatening to start and glance back at the three traitorous girls behind you.

Their kissy faces drop immediately, though Eunchae barely suppresses her laughter. 

With a playful shove to Hiyyih—who stumbles into the porch pillar but resumes her antics without missing a beat—you flip them all a perfectly manicured middle finger and step off the porch.

As you walk toward him, you swear the faintest blush tinges his ears. He waves briefly at your friends before straightening and meeting your gaze.

"You look good," he says, voice low and easy.

"I know." Your response is swift and confident, though the smile on your face is warmer than intended.

The moment is interrupted when the backseat window of his car rolls down, and Jake's grinning face is revealed. Your smile drops.

"Why is Jake in your car?" you deadpan, your smile dropping.

Riki groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Dude, I told you not to be weird."

Jake looks offended. "I didn't even say anything!"

"Seeing your face is enough," you reply flatly. Jake pouts dramatically while you shoot Riki an accusatory glare. "You could've warned me."

"If I did, you would've come out frowning," Riki whines playfully. "You have such a pretty smile."

From the backseat, Jake's obnoxious "ooooh" echoes, accompanied by giggles that make Riki's blush spread down his neck. Still, he keeps his composure enough to open the passenger door for you.

"What a gentleman~," Belle teases loudly from the porch.

Eunchae waves at you, practically bouncing with glee. You shoot Belle a glare, mouthing "kill yourself" as you accept Riki's hand and climb into his lifted car.

"Bye, Manchae," you call, snapping your attention away from him as he closes the door. You're too aware of his cologne and the lingering warmth of his hand. He looks way too good.

Riki salutes your friends playfully before circling to his door. Through Jake's open window, you hear Hiyyih shout, "She likes Dr Pepper!”

"And winning!" Eunchae adds.

"And tongue," Belle finishes just before the window rolls up.

You cringe. Riki's amused laugh is confirmation he definitely heard that. "I hate her so much," you mutter, pulling the sun visor down to touch up your lip gloss to dostract yourself.

You're halfway through the motion when you notice Riki hasn't started driving yet. Turning, you catch him just as he’s looking back at the road, his hand on the gear shift. (There’s something attractive about the fact he drives stick.)

Jake's giggle breaks the silence. "Oh, shut up, Jake," you snap, not necessarily to defend Riki—though it only makes Jake laugh harder. “Why couldn't your other friends bring him?" you grumble, swiping the gloss over your bottom lip.

"He's my neighbor," Jake says cheekily.

"I would've made him walk," you reply, clicking the gloss shut and shoving it back into your bag. "Or Uber."

"That's just cruel," Jake protests, but you shrug.

"Sucks."

Riki snickers and nods. "Okay, he'll Uber next time."

Jake looks appalled. "Bro."

"You're annoying me too," Riki replies, barely glancing back as he rests his hand lazily on the gear shift.

You pointedly ignore the way his rolled-up sleeves expose a line of muscle up his forearm, a vein standing out as he moves to grab his phone charger. "Play your music," he says, holding the cord out to you.

Jake gapes. "Bro, you never let us play our music."

"That's because you guys have shit taste," Riki says without hesitation.

Your lips twitch, a sliver of pride blooming in your chest.

You connect your phone, Sabrina Carpenter's Taste filtering through the speakers. Jake perks up. "Oh, I actually like this song."

"You better," you reply, humming along as the music plays.

Riki bobs his head lightly to the beat, his usual laid-back energy soothing you as the drive continues.

"Who else is bowling with us?" you ask, turning the music down slightly.

"Jay, his girlfriend, and Heeseung," Riki answers casually.

You hum in understanding and turn the volume back up, inhaling the soft musk of his cologne mingling with your perfume. The scent is annoyingly pleasant, calming in its own way.

By the time he pulls into the parking lot and finds a good spot, the sky has dimmed to a deep navy. Riki is out of his seat in a flash, jogging around to open your door before Jake even unbuckles himself. His hand lingers on yours as he helps you down, his fingers interlocking with yours naturally.

Jake trails behind you two as Riki leads you toward the neon-lit entrance, the muffled sounds of bowling balls and laughter drifting through the glass doors. 

Jay, a pretty girl you are pretty sure was in your art class in freshman year, and Heeseung are standing near the entrance, and you wish you could hide behind Riki from their gazes that immediately find your intertwined hands.

You send a smile to the only other girl reflexively, and she sends the prettiest one back. She grins excitedly as the three of them meet your trio halfway once you enter the door that Riki holds open for you to enter first. 

(You wonder if these are manners his sisters and mother taught him or a previous girlfriend—wait, no you don’t.)

“I told you it was her!” She smacks Jay’s arm, and he winces with a soft laugh, clearly used to his girlfriend’s antics. Her approach is welcomed as she explains, “He was saying Riki was lying.” 

“About?” You question curiously, an easy smile on your glossy lips.

She giggles as she answers, “You being his girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Riki says lowly, clearly embarrassed by the subject as you snicker at his misfortune.

“I’m Gaeul, by the way.” The girl states with a giggle as she pulls you from Riki with her elbow hooked with yours, and you barely glance back at your ‘boyfriend’, who’s being patted on the shoulder by Jay. “They’ll handle paying for everything, let’s get some snacks.”

“Oh, okay.” You say softly before smiling with her, delighted that she brought up food before you had to ask Riki about it. You aren’t ashamed of eating, or shy about doing so in front of him, but having another girl who also seems to prioritize food was immensely comforting to the anxiety in your gut. 

She grins as the two of you step into line at the concession counter, “I’m also glad I got you away from the boys for a second, they’re so…”

“Boyish?” You finish, and she laughs softly.

“Yeah.”

“Girl to girl,” You start, moving up in line with her, “I don’t think I’m gonna be good at bowling.” 

She gasps joyfully, “I suck!”

You laugh at her clear excitement that she’s finally not alone in that aspect, “But that means the boys are better than us.”

She rolls her eyes at the mention of them, “Riki and Heeseung are the really good bowlers,” There’s one more person between you two and the counter now, “I love my boyfriend, but he and Jake suck compared to those two.”

“I don’t want to lose to Jake.” You sigh, “It just doesn't seem ethical.”

“Riki’ll handle him.” She snickers softly, “You should've seen him at practice when Jake and Hoon messed with you.”

Your interest is piqued, but the person in front of you finishes paying for their food and you are forced to put your questions aside as she begins ordering and you realize you don’t even know what you want. 

You’re skimming over the menu above when your phone dings in your purse.

riki 🙈: what size shoe do u wear?

Quickly typing an answer, you glance between your phone and the menu, and Gaeul turns to you, waiting for you to add to the already sizable order with how much the four athletes can eat. “Oh, I can pay for myself—“

“Riki already venmoed me enough to spot you,” She interjects with a soft giggle, and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Oh,” You let out before shaking your head and looking at the waiting cashier, “A large drink and a basket of cheese fries, please.”

Gaeul hands you the stack of cups she’s handed, and you startle slightly when a hand and arm appear in your vision, plucking the cups from your hand. When you look over your shoulder you find a smirking Riki, “I got this. Go sit.” 

You huff softly, fighting your smile that threatens to grow even wider, “I can fill up my own drink.”

“I know, but I wanna do it.” He states with a nod like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you can’t do much more than glare weakly. He only chuckles softly as Gaeul finishes paying and realizes he’s with you, “Go. Dr Pepper, right?.”

You look away from his cheeky smirk with a shift of your jaw, and you lose the fight against the grin now on your face, “I hate you.”

He only huffs softly in amusement as you walk away with your arms crossed, making your way to where you spot Heeseung’s orange hair. There’s a pair of green bowling shoes beside another bigger pair that are red placed on the bench seating, and Jake has a grin on his face the moment you sit down to put them on.

“I am not above hitting you in the head with a bowling ball, Jake.” You say as you pull the white sneakers off your feet to put on the bowling shoes, not even soaring the Australian boy a glance as his mouth shuts, clearly rethinking speaking.

Heeseung snorts, “Shit, you are violent.”

You look up from your bowling shoes at the Lacrosse captain, who’s grin drops and he quickly looks away, acting like he wasn’t just laughing. Jay shakes his head with a laugh, “Thank you, for shutting them up.”

You give him a smile with a scrunch of your nose, “My pleasure.”

The moment Riki and Gaeul return, you’ve barely gotten your shoes tied. You’re still shooting looks at Jake, who’s pretending to look anywhere but at you while Jay wheezes softly into his hand. Riki raises a brow, setting a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. “What happened now?”

“She threatened Jake’s life with a bowling ball,” Heeseung informs him with amusement still clear on his face.

Riki pauses mid-sip of his drink, glancing at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Already? We haven’t even started the game yet.”

You shrug innocently, tugging the laces on your bowling shoes tighter. “He looked like he deserved it.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Jake argues with a whine, and you roll your eyes.

“You had that stupid look on your face.”

“Not defending him, but that’s just what Jake looks like.” Jay interjects with a finger raised to make a point, and Gaeul smacks his hand lightly with a disapproving shake of her head despite her snickering.

Riki sits beside you, handing you a large cup full of what you assume is Dr Pepper that you immediately taste to prove your theory, humming happily and smiling as you thank him. His smile mirrors yours as he begins to put on his own bowling shoes, and you grab your purse, which you had initially placed to your left, from between the two of you to place it elsewhere.

“Here,” He says softly, grabbing your purse from you to put on his other side with his jacket, which he had shed at some point between entering the building and sitting down, and you mutter a soft ‘oh, thank you’ that has his soft smirk widening just a bit before he focuses back on tying his shoes.

You’re somewhat thankful that they seemed to have agreed on teams instead of each of you having your own scoreboard, though seeing every ‘x’ between your ‘5’ points was embarrassing enough. 

Gaeul seems wholly entertained by the gutter ball she just achieved as you cheer for her from your seat between Riki and Heeseung, too distracted by the fun of the game to see the goosebumps on your arms. You’re leaning forward to pluck a fry from the basket of them on the table when you feel a warm something draped over your shoulders. 

Riki is standing for his turn before you can even react, but across the table Gaeul turns to hide her face in Jay’s shoulder to poorly muffle the high pitched squeal she lets out. You ignore the heat rising up your neck, catching the fry between your teeth to slip your arms into the jacket sleeves.

Jay and Gaeul seem to be the only team playing purely for fun, because Jake and Heeseung are neck and neck with you and Riki on the scoreboard and your ‘boyfriend’ looks less than pleased about it. 

It’s near the last round when Jake scores a miraculous nine points that you mentally prepare to accept defeat, looking up at Riki who had just gotten back with your refilled cup, “Horrible news.”

He raises his brows, looking at the scoreboard and cursing under his breath. It’s your final turn, and while you hadn’t completely embarrassed yourself with your subpar bowling skills you probably weren’t good enough or lucky enough to score anything higher than six points. At the moment, HeeJake is in first place.

Gaeul is cheering you on with her back against Jay’s chest, and Riki leans down, resting a hand on the edge of the table beside you, his face just close enough to make your heart race. “No pressure,” he says softly, smirking. “But if you lose, we’re never hearing the end of it.”

You roll your eyes, trying to act unimpressed. “Great pep talk. Truly inspiring.”

He snickers softly, straightening back up as you stand with dread clear on your pretty face. Heeseung pipes up, “Give her a good luck kiss, Romeo.” The glare you shoot the Lacrosse captain only makes him snicker with his hands held up in mock-surrender, “Was just a suggestion.”

The feigned smile you give him has your fake boyfriend plucking your drink from your hands (how did he knew you had an urge to throw it at Heeseung’s face, you’ll never know), and his hands move to your shoulders to walk with you to edge of the lane to grab a pink 7lb bowling ball.

Riki’s grip on your shoulders lingers, and he leans down slightly to murmur near your ear, “Just—aim in the middle.”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a withering look, choosing to ignore his proximity, “Like that isn’t what I’ve been doing.”

“Could've fooled me—ow! Okay, okay,” He’s still laughing despite rubbing his chest where your punch landed, much too cheeky for your liking but his smile is too…something for you to want to wipe it off his face, “You’re better than Jake.”

You shoot him a skeptical look, but it’s hard to ignore the encouragement in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you grip the heavy pink ball tightly, positioning it at your waist. Riki steps back, hands on his hips, his smirk still in place.

“Alright, show us what you’ve got, baby.”

“Oh, shut up.” You grumble softly, shooing him away to get his heart-fluttering grin out of your face, and as you pull his oversized sleeves up your arm to keep it from getting in the way you give yourself a mental pep talk.

Don’t lose, bitch.

It doesn’t help that your nails make putting your fingers in the three designated holes a struggle, and the moment the ball is released into the lane, veering left toward the gutter before God herself takes control and it curves back toward the center and slams into the center pin, you cover your face.

Strike!

Gaeul practically shrieks in excitement as the pins scatter, “Yes, girl!”

You blink, lashes fluttering as you process the cheering as well as groans from Jake, and you gasp, “Holy shit!”

Riki’s joyous laughter is infectious and warm, and you let out a soft shriek that fades into giggles as his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you off your feet in a hug, “Hell yeah, baby!” 

The moment your feet are back on the ground, Gaeul is before you with her hands up for high fives, practically bouncing in excitement for you. It’s practically second nature to you as you match her energy, too high on your miraculous win to notice Riki’s hands lingering on your waist.

Another thing you fail to notice in your moment of joy is a familiar couple just a few lanes over, one party too distracted by the ruckus to pay any attention to the game her boyfriend and his friends dragged her to join.

She watches you smile and laugh as Riki helps you out of your bowling shoes, and her eyes follow you as you walk toward the restrooms with the light blue Prada bag she had always wished you would give her. It isn‘t fair.

You sigh softly as you place your bag on the sink in front of you, unzipping it to grab your lip combo to touch up in the mirror before going back out. As you uncap your lipliner with a muffled click, you hear the bathroom door open but don’t think much of it at the moment.

It isn’t until you look into the mirror, leaning forward slightly to see your lips better, that you see who it is.

“Can I help you?” You ask her reflection with a tilt of your head, tone less confrontational than it should be, but you’re trying to keep your good mood and Nayeon’s face is threatening to ruin it.

She scoffs softly, yet keeps a safe distance, “Do you even like him?”

You look away from the mirror to really look at her, ignoring the satisfaction that her slight flinch brings you, “Excuse me?”

“You moved on fast.” Nayeon states, and you scoff with a smile of both fury and amusement at her audacity, “Is it even real, or did you use daddy’s money to get him to date you?”

The tilt of your head should have been a sign for her to shut her mouth, but she continues when you don’t respond like usual, “But I guess moving from one guy to another is just like you.”

She’s just trying to rile you up, it’s obvious. 

You shake your head with a soft and bitter laugh, looking back at the mirror to continue what you had intended to do, the lip pencil gliding over the edges of your lips and the pad of your ring finger blending the harsh edges. 

Her jaw shifts in the reflection as you cap your lip-liner and exchange it for your lip gloss, and you send her a condescending smile, “You done?”

“You bitch—“ Her words are cut off by another person entering the bathroom, and as you swipe the gloss over your lips, you pause when you see it’s Gaeul.

She glances at Nayeon, but her main focus is on you as she says, “Ready to go?”

You hide your confusion at her question with a pretty smile, closing your gloss and stuffing it back into your bag before you walk to her, shoulder checking the audacious bitch on your way out, “Yep.” 

Gaeul’s arm hooks at your elbow as you both exit the bathroom, and you sigh in relief at being out of that situation before you remember your prior confusion and she explains without you needing to ask, “Your ex is at our table antagonizing Riki, I figured if he’s here she would be too.” 

Your brows furrow and you quickly pick up the pace of your stride with fury souring your mood once again. When you turn the corner, your gaze zeroes in on Riki, who’s leaning back in his seat seemingly unbothered by whatever it is that Eunseok is saying to him, and Nayeon hastens past you to join her boyfriend’s side.

Eunseok’s eyes land on you the moment his girlfriend puts herself on his arm, and they follow you as you approach Riki without even a glance his way until he speaks, “You move on fast.” He snorts, soft and bitter, “Didn’t expect you to open your legs so fast considering how long it took you to put out.”

You ignore him, though the anger in your gut is boiling hot as your gaze moves to Riki, who you find is already standing now, his jaw shifting yet no other sign in his body language that he’s as pissed as his narrowed eyes say he is. Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all watch, though from their body language you can tell they’re not exactly about to stand by if your ‘boyfriend’ decides to throw a well-deserved punch.

His gaze moves to yours the moment your hand finds his, softening as your fingers intertwine with his and you mutter, “Let’s go.”

He nods wordlessly, his willingness only pissing Eunseok off more as he laughs mockingly, and you feel Riki’s hand tighten around yours, “Already got him trained, huh? He like how mean you are?” 

“I do, yeah.” Riki responds for you with a smug smirk, “She’s got a hell of a bite.”

The second meaning to his words isn’t lost on you, and you find the way Eunseok bristles at the comment amusing enough to not get mad at Riki for it later considering the two of you obviously hadn't done more than hold hands. (You hear Jake choke on his drink, too.)

“Bro, it’s your turn!” Calls a familiar male across the bowling alley, Sohee. 

You take the moment of brief distraction to shoot a pointed look at Jake, who gets up from his seat to play peacemaker with Heeseung.

Jay seems to motion for Riki to leave while they’re distracted by the two, and you shoot Gaeul an apologetic glance that she receives with a shake of her head and a look that reads ‘don’t be sorry’ as Riki leads you out of the building.

The moment the frigid air hits you, you tug the sleeves of his jacket down your arms again and shiver slightly. “He’s such a dick.” You sigh softly, “I’m sorry.”

Riki shakes his head as the two of you stop just a few paces outside the entrance, “Don’t apologize.” His hands move to rub at your arms to help you warm up, and the sight of both of your breaths visible in the cold has you moving to take his jacket off to give to him, but his hands cover yours the moment they start pulling at the open zipper. “I’m okay.”

“Riki, it’s cold as shit.”

“All the more reason for you to keep the jacket.” He argues back with a soft smirk, “Really, I practice in the cold every day.” 

“You’re active, then. Not standing around,” You fuss, and he tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement before a cheeky smirk grows on his face.

“‘You worried about me, pretty girl?”

“Oh, stop it.” You groan with a poorly concealed warm laugh, and he catches your hands as you weakly swat at his chest, pulling you closer. “Riki.”

Your soft mutter of his name has his eyes shutting and his head falling back with a soft groan escaping his lips, “You’re so mean, baby.”

“It isn’t fair to you.” He doesn’t seem pleased by your statement, shaking his head and leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

“Just a kiss.” He pleas softly, his nose brushing yours and you inhale sharply, “Just one.”

His words flip your stomach inside out, and as you sigh his name again he leans in.

“Oh shit!” The sudden exclamation has you and Riki both startling away from each other, Jake grinning like a maniac at the doors with Heeseung, Jay, and Gaeul behind him. “Fuck, did I just ruin a moment?”

You groan, turning away from them to begin walking to Riki’s Jeep, arms crossed to protect yourself from the cold and your mind in utter shambles because—

What the fuck?

Jake gets a ride from Heeseung home according to Riki, who had unlocked his car for you to get in while he said goodbye to the others. A part of you regrets not saying goodbye to Gaeul, but the thought of spending another second under their gaze at that moment felt suffocating.

The silence in the car is loud. Not awkward loud, but loud enough that every glance out the window and every shift in your seat feels amplified. Riki’s hands stay firmly on the wheel, his fingers drumming against the edge of the leather cover as he fiddles with the turn signal.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but slightly strained, “you’ve got a mean bowling game for someone who swore they’d lose.”

You glance at him, catching the way the passing streetlights make his jawline look sharper. “That’s because I hustle. Low expectations are a great strategy.”

He huffs a small laugh, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Guess I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You lean back against the seat, trying to ignore the fact that your heart still hasn’t settled since that moment at the alley—the one where his face was too close, his breath too warm, and you almost forgot this whole thing was fake.

“So… next time?” you tease, arching a brow. “How much more mortifying teasing can you handle?”

“Depends,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “How long does it take to make your ex think he lost the best thing that ever happened to him?”

Your laugh comes out before you can stop it. “It’ll probably never happen, I just like to see him squirm.” The weight of his words sits in the air between you, heavier than it should be. You turn to look out the window, feigning interest in the row of darkened houses you pass by. 

“You know,” he says after a beat, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think they’re worth this much effort. Your ex and… her.”

You blink, surprised at his shift in tone. “Well, thanks for that motivational speech, Riki. Really helps my self-esteem.”

He shakes his head, glancing at you briefly. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean… if they couldn’t see how good they had it with you, that’s on them. You don’t need to prove anything.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. You open your mouth to reply, but the words don’t come. Instead, you study him in the dim light, wondering—not for the first time—why he agreed to this in the first place.

“Why are you doing this, Riki?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “I told you, I need you to help me pass Chem.”

You narrow your eyes, not convinced but also not ready to push. “You haven’t even asked for help past me giving you my old notes.”

He smirks again, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “They’re just that helpful. Don’t overthink it.”

And maybe you don’t, because overthinking means dissecting the way he’s looking at you now in the faint glow of the dashboard, like he knows something you don’t.

The car slows to a stop in front of your house and you fiddle with the hem of your halter top, trying to figure out how to say what’s been sitting heavy in your chest since the bowling alley. “Riki,” you start, your voice softer than usual.

He hums in acknowledgment, already looking at you.

You take a steadying breath. “I don’t think… I’m ready for a real relationship.”

That gets his attention. His hands shift in his lap, his expression unreadable. “Okay,” he says after a beat, his tone cautious. “Where’s this coming from?”

You shift in your seat, suddenly finding the dashboard very interesting. “It’s just… you’ve been really good to me this past week, and I feel like it’s not fair to you. I mean, you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel, and I don’t want to lead you on or—”

“Hey.” His voice is calm, steady, and it makes you pause. “You’re not leading me on. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Yeah, but…” You trail off, frustration bubbling up because the words in your head won’t come out the way you want them to. “It’s not just about you. It’s about me, too. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with… all of this. Not after everything with him. It’s too much.”

He doesn’t say anything right away, which somehow makes it worse. The silence stretches, and you’re about to apologize—again—when he finally speaks.

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I think we should stop,” you say, hating how small your voice sounds. “The fake dating, I mean.”

He nods, almost imperceptibly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s not—” You stop yourself, biting your lip as your eyes burn. “I just… I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve someone who’s all in, and I can’t be that right now.”

His lips twitch into a faint, almost sad smile. “You’re thinking too much about me again.”

You frown, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs lightly, his eyes moving away from you briefly before they settle back on yours. “It means you’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. I’m a big boy; I’ll survive.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He cuts you off gently, an easy smile still on his face. “If this is what you need, we’ll stop. No hard feelings.”

The simplicity of his response hits harder than you expected. It’s so Riki—quietly selfless, always willing to go along with what makes you happy.

You hate how much you suddenly want to reach across the console and kiss the life out of him. But you don’t. Instead, you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile.

“Thanks, Riki.”

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anytime.”

You watch him exit his car, circle around the front, and open your door for you while holding a chivalrous hand out just like before. A part of your heart aches with the knowledge he’s still doing this despite not technically having to, and you smile softly as you accept his help. His hand doesn’t linger in yours as it did before, though.

The walk to your front door is silent, and he halts just before the step onto your porch, his hands in his pockets, you pause before approaching your door, turning to him. With the few inches that the porch gives you, meeting his gaze is easier. “Tonight was really fun, ignoring the end of it,”

He chuckles softly, “Glad you had fun, pretty girl.” 

If he didn’t mean to let the name slip he doesn’t show any signs of panic or regret, only meeting your nearly-level gaze with warmth.

There’s a moment before you turn your body only slightly towards the front door, “Goodnight.”

His hand catches your elbow gently as you begin to turn away from him, pulling you back yet giving you time to pull away if you so desire, and you don’t.

His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s softer than you imagined it’d be. His hand moves to your cheek yet pauses just before his skin touches yours, lips sweet and slow against yours. 

It’s over before you can kiss back like you want to, his lips parting from yours with a soft smack that makes your stomach flip. 

“Goodnight.” He bids in a low mumble, barely an inch from your lips when the words leave his and he takes a step back with a soft smile that makes your heart twist painfully, “See you Monday.”

You can only nod, forcing a slight smile and turning to punch in the door code with shaky hands and a heavy, aching heart.

part two.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[motomamita]

farmer!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, arranged marriage, breeding kink!

könig never thought that the love of his life would take so long to arrive, much less in such a small town where he lived and where everyone knew everyone. but yes, he just turned 30 he found himself totally alone, without a wife, girlfriend or even someone to fuck with without commitments.

being an only child, his parents rushed to find the right woman for him. they had to ensure that their legacy would continue and their lands would be passed down to their future grandchildren.

that's where you come in, also the only daughter of a couple of lumberjacks and with a long list of suitors. although you could choose any boy in the town, your parents quickly paired you with könig, who was the son of the wealthiest family in the place.

you didn't know könig personally but you had seen him from time to time on the streets driving his truck carrying fruits and vegetables to supply the businesses. you knew that he was older than you, not only in age but also in body. he always had a serious face and a look that forced you to lower your head because of how intimidating he was.

your families introduced you one day where they had lunch and talked about how beneficial it would be for both of you to get married. könig didn't contribute much, as he spent all that time looking at your breasts through your dress and biting his lip every time you dared to look into his eyes. neither you nor he spoke to each other.

after that, they organized a small wedding in the garden of könig's family and formalized the union between the two of you. you were now his wife and lived with him in a small house built by könig on his family land. however, the most important thing was missing, an heir.

you both knew that your families would not be calm until they saw you carrying his baby in your womb. that's why you and könig had to get closer to each other, both emotionally and physically. every time he came back from a long day of work, you would wait for him with a jug of fresh orange juice or even a beer. then you would prepare the shower for him, where könig would end up dragging you with him and you would shower together. he caressed your skin with excitement and you did the same but with a certain shyness. however, it never went any further, until now.

one afternoon you were harvesting vegetables from the garden until the presence of könig behind you caught your attention.

"it's time... for us to have a son."

könig was wearing his work shirt with a few buttons open and his blue jeans. he looked agitated, as if he needed you at that moment.

"könig... i, i don't know. i've never done it and i'm a little scared..."

you couldn't finish because könig knelt in front of you and grabbed your hips with his hands.

"please, please, let me fuck you. i can't wait any longer, my love, i need you.."

he begged with some pain in his voice, resting his head on your stomach and almost sobbing. his cock was throbbing inside his jeans and dripping with precum. your heart sank at seeing him so needy, so you accepted.

without wasting time, könig fucked you right there in his garden and on the ground, in a primitive way. your pussy took a while to get used to its size but soon the pain turned into pleasure. könig was on top of you, with your legs over his shoulders and his balls hitting your delicate skin.

"i knew this pussy was worth the wait... fuck, you're so tight."

könig kissed your legs, leaving a trace of his saliva and even lightly biting your skin, lost in pleasure. his grunts accompanied your moans and pleas for him to finish inside you as soon as possible, you were afraid that you would be discovered.

"these juicy tits, they're going to look even better when they're big and dripping with milk... are you going to carry my babies, huh? are you going to be a good mom?"

you nodded your head because your mouth couldn't let out anything but moans. könig increased his thrusts, fucking deep inside you until he filled you with his thick semen.

he gently lay down on top of you, careful not to crush you until his orgasm passed. he carefully pulled out of you, caressing your legs and putting the cum that came out back in with his fingers.

"i have to make sure it catch, mommy."

[enigmaris]

A continuation of this post:

There is a teenager in the Watchtower.

Scratch that, there is a teenager that Bruce doesn't know in the Watchtower. The boy, maybe around Tim's age, is wearing worn blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a pair of tennis shoes that had seen better days.

He is wearing no mask, no suit of armor, with no weapons on him. He's just sitting in one of the seats in their larger meeting room, quite literally twiddling his thumbs. He hadn't noticed Batman standing in the doorway.

Behind him, he heard Clark coming round the corner, Bruce lifted up a gloved hand which made the man stop.

"What is it, Bats?"

Bruce sent the man a look before motioning to the boy, who had definitely noticed them now.

He waved at them.

"Who is that? Don't you normally require all your new kids wear costumes up here?" Clark asked.

"Unknown." Bruce said before giving his friend a look. "He's not mine."

Why does everyone assume it's his kid? Just because this boy has dark hair and blue eyes does not mean he belongs to Bruce. Clark has nearly the same looks as Bruce, and he had two kids, why couldn't this one be one of his?

"He's not mine either!" Clark said before frowning. "Not that I know of."

Bruce lifted up an eyebrow, knowing his friend could see it beneath his cowl. Clark rolled his eyes.

"Let's be honest if he was one of mine, you would know before I would."

Bruce grunted and turned back to the teenager. The kid was clearly listening in on them while looking away from them. Bruce watched as he tapped on the table in front of him, making little staccato noises of anxiety.

"Why are we waiting out here?" Barry asked, appearing right in a blur of red and yellow right as he did. Clark pointed at the unknown in the meeting room. Barry grinned widely beneath his own cowl, making the rubbery material crinkle.

"Batsy! Another one? You sly dog, where'd you find this one?"

"He's not mine." Bruce growled, Barry actually froze for a moment, shock slowing him down to normal speed for a moment.

"Nice joke, Bats. If he's not yours, then whose is he?"

Bruce clenched his jaw, Barry looked between the two of them, head flipping rapidly until he realized it wasn't a joke. In the corner of his eye, he could see that the unknown was openly staring at them with a smile forming on his face.

"We are in space." Barry hissed. "How'd a random kid get in here?"

"Excuse me?"

Behind the three hero pile up, Arthur arrived. The King looked less than pleased at having his way impeded.

"I come to these bi-monthly meetings due to their importance. I have an entire kingdom to manage, so if we could all move?"

"Bats has a new kid!" Barry nearly shouted.

"He's not mine!" Bruce growled while Arthur looked up and over Barry to see the unknown.

"Do we have a security breach?" Arthur asked.

"He's not yours yet!" Barry said at the same time, lifting up a finger and pointing it right at Bruce's face.

"We don't know who it is or how they got here." Clark said. "He doesn't seem hostile."

"Appearances can be deceiving, Superman." Arthur said , pursing his lips. Bruce turned to see that the boy had now waved in greeting at Arthur and Barry. Barry waved back.

"Are we having a hallway party or something?" Captain Marvel asked. "A party sounds waaaay more fun than a meeting, no offense Batman."

"We have an intruder, Captain." Arthur said pointing directly at the kid.

The kid's eyes widened and he looked behind himself before pointing at his own chest in surprise.

"He doesn't seem like an intruder?" Marvel said with a frown. "What if he's lost?"

"The watchtower is a secure facility, people don't get here by accident." Bruce said.

"I dunno, Batman." Marvel shrugged. "We have aliens, magicians, and time travelers on our team. He could be lost."

Bruce refused to admit the genial man had a point, the unknown could be from anywhere or anywhen. From further down the hallway, John and Diana appeared, walking together. Diana was holding a glass filled with one of Barry's chocolate protein shakes. John nodded in greeting at the group.

"We have an intruder Wonder Woman." Arthur said.

Diana looked through the crowd before shaking her head.

"Nonsense. He has permission to be here. Come, we should sit for the meeting."

Diana muscled her way through the crowd, still carrying the glass. She walked directly over to the unknown. The boy perked up, smiling widely as Diana held out the glass for him

"Thanks, i was getting hungry." The boy said before taking a large gulp of the shake, Diana smiled down at the boy, resting her hand in his dark hair.

"Woah. Plot twist." Barry whispered.

"Come on, let's get to the bottom of this." Clark said walking into the room, following the path Diana took.

The rest of the League followed suit, taking their assigned seats around the table. Bruce wasn't surprised to see that the unknown was sitting in an extra chair right next to Diana.

"To start the meeting." Diana said onc everyone was seated. "I do have some news to share."

"Yeah, I sure hope so." Marvel said in that strange, joking tone he used as if he were quoting something, not that Bruce had ever been able to recognize the quotes.

"I would like to introduce the Justice League to my son, Daniel of Themyscira." Diana said, putting her arm around the unknown and squeezing him to her side.

"Hi." Daniel said, waving at the group, his cheeks a bit red.

Immediately, there was an uproar from most everyone in the League. Questions and shouts of confusion, shock, and denial. Diana only allowed the noise for a few moments before she slammed her fist onto the table hard enough to crack it.

"Enough!" She shouted, quickly quelling the group. "I will not allow my decision to bring my son here be questioned."

She glared at them fiercely, still holding Daniel to her side. The boy had ducked down a bit with the shouting but was now looking up at Diana with adoration.

"This entire team, aside from Captain Marvel, has brought their young charges to the League." Diana continued, looking at each of them. "Superman has brought up two Superboys, Aquaman introduced to us Aqualad, Flash has both Impulse and Kid Flash, Martian Manhunter came to us with Miss Martian. I do not believe we even have time to list all of Batman's brood."

Barry had the audacity to snort at Diana's last point. That actually eased the tension and people relaxed. Diana leaned back into her seat.

"I would think that my team of many years would trust my judgment in bringing my son here. I assure you he is well into his training and more than competent. I will allow you all to ask your questions now."

Bruce cleared his throat near silently and spoke up first.

"What does he know?"

Diana didn't look impressed at his question. Daniel looked at her face before frowning at Bruce, clearly following his mother's lead.

"I have spoken at length about the League and how we work together. I assure you that i have not revealed any identities shared in confidence with me." Diana's tone made it clear she was offended that Bruce would accuse her of revealing their identities. He barely kept from wincing.

"Uhm. How did he... come to be?" Clark asked, clearly not wanting to ask any truly intimate details.

"In the way all children do." Diana said, giving Clark a look of his own.

That answer was not very helpful given that Diana was formed from clay by her mother. Had she taken a pottery class when he wasn't looking? Unless the boy was much older than he appeared, there was no way Diana had hidden a pregnancy from them 15 or so years ago.

"Why haven't we heard of him before now?" Arthur asked.

"Daniel was training with Pandora, one of the elders of Themyscira, she sent him here when he learnt all she had to teach. He joined me in the world of man only a few months ago." Diana answered simply.

"Uh. Excuse my ignorance." Barry said in a tone that made it clear he was about to say something very ignorant indeed. "But I thought your family only had women in it?"

This time Daniel answered, looking nervous.

"I'm. I'm trans actually." he answered, while rubbing his arm nervously.

"Which is completely fine and something that will not leave this room." Diana said, her voice comforting towards her son while her eyes promised hellfire to the heroes in the room.

Everyone made noises of agreement until Daniel relaxed, going back to smiling.

"Excuse me Wonder Woman, will Daniel be wanting to join any of the other, younger teams?" Captain Marvel asked, sounding excited at the idea.

Which of course he would, he was still acting Den Mother for Young Justice and loving it.

"That is up to him. For now I would like to keep him to myself for a while longer, but once he is further trained by myself I think it would be a splendid opportunity."

"Yes!" Daniel agreed before clearing his throat. "I mean, that'd be cool or whatever."

"We can discuss it in the future." Bruce allowed, knowing that it would probably happen sooner than Diana would want knowing how both the Teen Titans and Young Justice were. Danny nodded eagerly at that.

"Finish your food." Diana told Daniel before looking back up at the rest of the team. "Are there any more questions?"

"Does Daniel have any health requirements or powers we need to be aware of?" John asked. "Or is his physiology the same as your own?"

"His powers are vastly different from my own. It is one of the reasons Pandora had taken on his training in the beginning." Diana answered easily. "The facilities and resources we have here should work well for him in case of injury."

The knowledge that Daniel's powers were so different from Diana's that she didn't feel comfortable training him herself was worrisome. Amazons, as far as he knew, had relatively similar powersets. Although he had not heard of Pandora before, perhaps she was specialized?

"I do have, what's it called? An enhanced metabolism. Most stuff here doesn't work on me."

"Don't worry son. We have plenty of medications designed with metas in mind." Clark told Danny. "If it works on me and your mom, it willl work for you."

"Cool."

"What all can you do?" Captain Marvel asked.

Daniel turned to look at Diana who nodded. The boy then looked back at them and started listing his powers.

"I can fly. Not as fast as mom's invisible jet but pretty fast. I'm super strong. I can turn invisible and intangible."

"Intangible?" Clark asked.

"It is an ability similar to Martian Manhunter's density shifting." Diana clarified. "The mechanisms are different."

Magical, most likely, instead of John's more science based power. Bruce would have to come up with more contingencies to compensate for that.

"Yeah intangibility is pretty cool." Daniel told them. "Althought when i first got it, it was pretty scary. I kept falling through stuff. I was almost afraid I'd start falling through the whole planet by accident. I totally have it under control now though."

"I would be interested in comparing our abilities, Daniel." John said, nodding his head towards him. The boy beam excitedly.

"Yeah!"

"Not in the Watchtower." Diana warned, voice stern.

Yes, that was probably sensible. Danny agreed with his mother, and John clarified that he would be happy to meet up planetside at their convenience.

"Are those all of your abilities?" Barry asked, Daniel shook his head.

"No there are a bunch more. But I'm not supposed to use them for a while."

"Why?"

"My son is powerful, but he has relied on his powers far too much in the past." Diana said, sounding porud enough to make her son blush. "Right now, I am training his melee abilities, we have agreed to a temporary pause until he has met my standards."

"It's been super tough. Mom's making me practice with her sword all the time." Danny added on.

"My mother will be sending on your own weapon soon." Diana soothed. "Hephestes does not like to be rushed."

"I know mom."

Diana reached up and ruffled her son's hair. Daniel leaned into the affection with a smile.

"Are there any further questions?" Diana asked, when no one had anything immediately she nodded. "Good. Is there any further business? If not, I would like to take my son home for a proper meal."

Everyone looked at each other. Bruce had wanted to discuss some of his findings, but with Diana's reveal, it hardly seemed important any longer. Bruce was going to need to do a lot of research and planning. He wondered if he should get Tim involved or if he should hold off. The League agreed to end the meeting early, Diana stood.

"Come Daniel. We should get to the jet."

Daniel scrambled up and followed his mother out of the meeting room, his worn sneakers squeaking a bit on the flooring. The rest of the League sat in silence for a moment taking in what Diana had told them.

Wonder Woman had a child. A child with powers beyond her own.

Daniel popped back into the room before anyone could speak.

"Gosh, I am sorry I almost forgot. Mr. Batman, I have something for you."

Daniel walked right over to Bruce, who stared at him from underneath the cowl. The boy was not nearly as confident as his mother when it came to his glare. He cringed a bit, but reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, silver and green flash drive. He placed it on the table and stepped back.

"What is that?"

"Mom told me you like to make contingencies for everyone. In case they go crazy or whatever. So..." The boy motioned to the drive with his hand. "I mean, it'd be weird if i made my own plans, but like, you could do it. That has all my powers and weaknesses and stuff."

Bruce grabbed the flash drive and the boy looked pleased.

"Okay! I gotta go. It was awesome meeting you guys!"

Daniel turned on his heel and ran out of the room. Bruce looked down at the flash drive, doing his best to hide his shock. No one has ever just handed him a list of their weaknesses before.

"I dunno Bats, are you sure he's not yours?" Barry asked.

[undyingdecay]

pairing: robert reynolds x reader cw: smut, afab reader, breeding, nursing, dry humping, mommy kink without the use of the word ‘mommy’(?).

bob had many bad habits—and calling them “bad” felt almost reductive. it wasn’t so much that they were wrong, but that they were inevitable. necessary evils, like antidepressants that cured one demon only to awaken another—sleep stolen, thoughts sharpened into blades. you knew the risks. knew that there were layers to him, chasms of light and void so impossibly knotted together that pulling one string risked unraveling everything. and yet, not once did you try to stop him.

especially not when he had you like this.

bob had you in what would have been a mating press. he wasn’t dominating you; that would have implied control. no, this was desperation.

you felt the weight of him—solid, large, always too warm. his hips moved in slow, needy grinds, rutting into the softness of your thigh with a barely contained whine. he didn’t even seem aware he was doing it at first, too lost in the hum of your skin against his, the scent of your shampoo, the knowledge that you were here, real, and not another hallucination clawing through the fissures in his fragile reality.

his entire psyche was trembling in the cradle of your touch. that heavy body of his, golden-skinned and too warm, was sprawled across yours, pinning you to the plush comforter of your shared bed. all clothes still on, not even trying to make a move for your underwear, and yet rutting into you like a fevered animal who’d finally found shelter from the storm.

“please… just stay still,” he whined into your neck, voice thick with need, cracked around the edges like a man seconds from breaking. “i need this… need you so bad…”

his hips rocked down, grinding the full length of his cock into the soft swell between your thighs, the friction of denim-on-denim only fueling his urgency. you could feel how soaked the front of his jeans already were, a hot patch of pre-cum bleeding through the fabric and clinging to your skin underneath your own clothes. he wasn’t trying to get off fast—he was trying to feel. the kind of touch-starved desperation that made your breath catch, made your core throb with guilt-tinged arousal.

it always started like this. bob had a serious humping problem, and half the time, he didn’t even seem aware he was doing it. like some old, buried instinct took over and short-circuited everything else. one minute, you were making drinks behind the bar—yelena’s had already been poured, predictably flat beer, though you’d sometimes coax her into a frozen piña colada on hot nights when the mission weight cracked her shell—and the next, bob was there.

you hadn’t even noticed when he moved in front of you. but there he was, subtly grinding the outline of his cock—half-hard, already leaking—against your ass while you stirred a cocktail like it was the most normal thing in the world. his hands crept around your hips, fingers splayed wide, clutching you like you might evaporate.

you could feel the thick heat of him behind you, the slow, indulgent roll of his hips pressing that leaking bulge harder against your backside. he buried his face into your shoulder, just breathing you in—letting the scent of your skin fill his lungs while his cock twitched and spilled again. a low grunt escaped him, like a growl caught in his throat, and you didn’t even need to look to know there’d be another dark patch soaking through the front of his pants soon.

he wasn’t much for words, at least not when he needed you like this. maybe it was psychological. maybe some freudian reflex—except his slips came in the form of motion, not speech. whatever it was, it usually ended the same: with bob flushed, breathing hard, and muttering a barely-there apology as he rushed off to change his boxers, the front soaked through with a spill of pre that just wouldn’t stop.

but that wasn’t even the worst of it.

no, the worst was bob’s obsession with your breasts. or more precisely, the act of nursing from them. you weren’t sure how it started—maybe a mission had gone sideways, maybe something in the void had cracked open inside him—but soon enough, it became a ritual. those pink, pouty lips latched onto your nipples with almost sacred reverence. like the act of sucking was anchoring him here, to this world, to you. he’d nurse himself to sleep on you, mouth slack and warm, eyelashes kissing your skin like they did when he wept.

he’d whimper softly while he suckled, hips occasionally jerking when your hand would trail down and cup the growing tent in his briefs. his tongue would lap at your nipple with slow, wet circles before taking it deeper into his mouth, his lips stretched open with hunger that was never quite satisfied. sometimes, he’d hum—soft, broken sounds that made your stomach clench and your thighs tighten.

it wouldn’t have been a problem, really—until bob started asking for more.

nursing wasn’t enough anymore. he wanted milk.

when you tried to gently explain to him that your body didn’t produce milk unless you were pregnant, something visibly shifted behind his eyes. a glint of understanding mixed with something far more primal. his breathing hitched, his hands went still on your hips—and the moment stretched out like a wire about to snap.

the next second he was rutting into you with such overwhelming need you could barely stay upright. his hands clenched at your waist like you’d disappear if he let go, his hips bucking up to meet yours with a helpless rhythm. you were riding him—gripping his broad shoulders, gasping each time he hit that perfect angle—and he was falling apart beneath you.

you were bare, both of you. his cock slid into you with such effortless heat you swore he was made for this, for you. your slick dripped down over his balls, already soaked from how much foreplay had bled into full-on worship. every grind of your hips forced a hiss through his teeth, his mouth falling open as he grabbed fistfuls of your ass and urged you down harder.

“please,” he sobbed, voice wrecked with sincerity. “please take my cum. i need it—i need you to have it. keep it inside, don’t waste it. don’t let it go, please—!”

the way he said please—like a dying man gasping for water—made you tremble. he was twitching inside you already, leaking thick pulses of pre so hot you swore you could feel it pool deep inside. you tightened around him and he cried out, high and hoarse, rutting up into you with broken rhythm. the slap of skin on skin echoed in the room, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he chased that final, frantic release.

he didn’t last long. he never did when the idea of forever was involved.

and when he came—god, when he came—it was like watching him detonate in slow motion. his entire body shook, legs kicking slightly under the sheets, and his cock jerked inside of you, spilling thick, hot ropes that filled you to the brim. it felt endless. like he’d saved it all just for you.

he sobbed through it, full-body tremors racking his frame as his arms wrapped tight around you. his tears were hot against your skin, streaming freely as he clung to you like a drowning man.

you didn’t move. you let him be there—in you, around you, breaking apart and coming back together in the shelter of your arms.

you held him as he cried, brushing his sweat-damp blonde curls back from his flushed face. he mumbled something incoherent against your breast, lips brushing the peak of your nipple before gently latching on again. and just like always, his breathing slowed. his body eased. the storm passed.

he drifted off suckling you, as though your body was the only thing tethering him to this plane of reality—and maybe it was.

maybe, in the end, you were his antidepressant. a dangerous kind. the kind that could save him or kill him depending on the dose.

and still, you’d never stop him.

[littledes1re]

Neighbours help pt. 2

Pairing: Old!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summery: After this thing happened between you and your neighbour, you have been avoiding him at all costs. But one night he comes into your apartment, wanting to fix something he thinks it’s broken so he can see you again. Aka..he finally fucks reader😌

Warnings: 18+, Angst, praise kink, overstimulation, size kink, squirting, slight breeding kink, slight daddy kink, fingering, big cock joel, pinv, pet names, big age gap! (reader is 25-26ish and Joel is 60), switching between POV’s, hair pulling, Dom/Sub undertones, Mean!joel, but also Soft, joel mocks reader, really sensitive reader, darcyphilia, kinda naive reader, kinda pervy!joel

A/N: I didn’t think pt.1 was gonna do so well that people would ask me for pt.2🤭 i’m so thankful, but especially to @keseqna because they gave me the idea!! <3 I don’t know how to do a Masterlist so all my blurbs/writings are under #des1rewrites !!

“…Not want your annoying little ass anywhere near my apartment anymore, s‘that clear?“

This sentence has been stuck in your head, repeating over and over since the last interaction you had with joel. But not just in your head but somehow also in your heart too. Like a sharp blade, stinging you constantly, whenever it gets quiet and you remember what happened. Whenever you see him on the apartments hallway, completely ignoring you, sting. The times you come on your fingers, with that scenario in mind, imagining his hands gripping your skin, the texture of his jeans underneath you, the sweet pet names, sting. Because you bring to mind how he mocked you, how he looked at you and how he didn’t want to have anything to do with you after that.

You felt embarrassed, ashamed and hurt. First, you didn’t know what got into you on that day. Second, it would’ve been much more easier to handle this guilt afterwards if he was young and wasn’t living right next to you. His age turned you on, the roughness of it all. The manliness that comes with handling everything himself, demanding personality and the stern nature. But he was much older than you and you knew all the risks that came with dating much older men.

You didn’t know yourself like this. Being struck by a man, completely forgetting morals and self respect and just going dumb, while he mocks you. And then riding his thigh because he showed you one second of his soft side. Maybe he was just hurt? Maybe he was just joking around?

You slapped your hands on top of your face, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to overcome the sense of embarrassment. Apparently you were too naive and you also knew that you still wanted him. That you could not turn it off, you could not just ignore the throbbing between your legs, you could not ignore the attraction you felt for this man. He didn’t want you, he made it clear. But gave you a taste of what to except from him and left you with longing for more.

—

Joel wasn’t doing well either. The guilt was butchering him, it was unbearable and the fact that you really stopped with all of your annoying greetings and random visits made his stomach turn just more. Hell, they were not annoying. He was just being dramatic, messing with you. He knows that he is grumpy, he knows that he is annoyed with everything and maybe not the most nice human being but how could he? Since he lost his daughter he could not feel an ounce of happiness. He locked himself up from the rest of the world and let nobody in, wanting to protect his already broken heart and just live his life. In peace.

You come here with all that happy and quirky attitude, caring for him and being all joyful. He didn’t need that right now, he wasn’t— heck, he wasn’t ready for that. But deep down he knew that you didn’t deserve that. Even if the mean behaviour got you gushing like a faucet, it okey for him to call you annoying and that he didn’t want you near his apartment again. You are living alone, what if you need something? Advice, an open ear? Food? Something he has to fix? …to cum again?

Whenever he saw you he excepted a little ‘hello’, a smile, a something. Your face lacked any expression, your body moving fast to open the door and get in before he has to stand there with you. After that he realised what kind of damage he had done.

The day he let you ride his thigh was unusual, he was going to fix the damn fridge and would be out of there in 10 minutes. Then he saw how restless you were, leg shaking, eyes glassy and thighs clenching. Poor girl, he thought to himself. Was him sitting there and trying to read the instructions making you this restless? It was surprising, but nothing that he wasn’t excepting as he always saw how you looked at his arms or torso whenever he was outside, packing his car or when you visit him. He knew you needed to get it out of your system once in a lifetime to leave him alone, but what if he needed it also?

It was also crystal clear that he wanted you. I mean who wouldn’t? Pretty thing like you, swaying your hips from left to right, always trying your best to have manners and be nice, sweet doe eyes and a beautiful smile. He felt guilty, he was old, too old to be in your business, he would ruin you. It was killing him getting off on his fist with the thought of you and only you.

It was the middle of the night and you woke up at 2am, feeling this need and throbbing between your legs. Again. Your sleepy state of mind didn’t do much of thinking as you slide your hands down to your panties and started to rub your clit, eyes closed and lazily. The wetness spreading through your folds as you tiredly moan into the quiet room. Hips bucking in the need of wanting something more, something that leaves you as satisfied as the day your fridge broke. Joel.

You finger rubs faster with every breath that you take, the squelching sounds of your wetness getting more and more louder, just like your moans. Flashes of joel come up in your mind, the beautiful brown eyes, big strong shoulders, his rough hands and beautiful hair coaxing you into your orgasm as you start to cry out his name into the night until— a knock on your door.

You sit up as quick as you never did, the tiredness long gone, you wipe your fingers on your panties. Eyes widen you ask yourself who the hell it that is knocking on your door at this hour. Your pulse still high from your stolen orgasm going higher because now you are kinda scared.

Standing up slowly, you move to your door. Gently listening, trying to figure out if there was really someone standing there. But you could hear nothing.

You opened the door slowly, peeking trough the small gap and seeing him standing there. Hands on his hip, jacket and jeans still on. You swallowed, what the hell was he doing here in the middle of the night? Why was he still wearing his work clothes and looked like he was sweating? Your eyes widened just more, he was the last person you excepted on your doorstep.

“Open up, girl. S’just me.” He muttered, clearly trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to disturb your other neighbours.

“What do you want?” You whispered quickly through the gap, earning a sigh, his hand running through his curls.

“Just need to talk about something, open up. It’s important”

The confusion grew just bigger and bigger while in the pit of your stomach fear start to spread. Did he hear you?

you slowly backed off and opened the door for him. His huge frame didn’t change a bit, he just looked at you, the familiar brown eyes scanning you from head to toe. Your cheeks flushed, realising what you are wearing. The thin white silky nightgown you just bought, under that just your panties.

His breath hitched as he saw you like this. Your head was looking down, your arms nervously playing with the hem of your gown and if the moon didn’t shine trough the window, thank god it did, he couldn’t see your perked up nipples and the little panties you wore, the dress just barely covering your thighs. He was about to lose his god damn mind.

You looked up to him baffled, how he had the audacity to come to your apartment after telling you that he didn’t want you anywhere near his apartment.

“Uh, how ya’ doin’ girl?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He looked around the room, his eyes always falling to your body, but looking quickly away but you noticed.

“What do you mean how am I doing? I’m trying to sleep?” You exclaimed, clearly getting frustrated and unpatient, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Yea, yea. You’re right. Disturbed ya huh?”

What the hell was he even talking about? Was he drunk? Did he really hear you? your nervous system almost falling apart at the thought of him hearing you moan his name at the night and him coming to you to ask you about it.

“Steve called me. Said there is something goin’ on with the sinks and the pipes, need’ta have a look.”

Steve, the landlord of this apartment complex. Something about this story wasn’t adding up, he looked so unsure, looking trough the room, avoiding your eyes.

“Steve? Called you? In the middle of the night?” You asked suspicious, his eyes landing on you.

“Yes, in the middle of the night because it’s an emergency, girl. Now if you would let me just quickly look into your bathrooms sink, I will leave the princess alone so she can get her beauty sleep.” His voice was rough, like he just woke up from his sleep. And that tone, annoyed and acting like he knows it all, no one should contradict him. So stubborn.

You looked at him up and down, something still wasn’t adding up. This was sure not a very logical story. Why couldn’t steve just call you? Why was he sending joel? And whatever is going on with the pipes, you definitely didn’t notice anything different while doing your nightly routine. So what was all of this about?

He sighed.

“Girl, listen. Ain’t happy about being here too, but I gotta look into this, promise I leave as soon as possible”

Deep down you were somehow happy to that he was here. His presence felt warm and the scolding and annoying tone felt familiar, like nothing happened between you two. But of course your body was betraying you once more, the aching and stolen orgasm from earlier was still present. Like an uninvited guest, pushing you further and further into an uncomfortable situation that you didn’t want to repeat again.

“Okey, come with me”

Joel didn’t know what the hell he was doing here. Not a single brain cell acted with caution in this scenario, not one thought came into his mind that told him it was a bad idea. He heard you moaning out his name.

Again.

He hears it every god damn night and it drives him absolutely mad. There is this little angel laying in her bed, desperately pushing her small fingers into her cunt, knowing it’s not enough, aching and begging for him and something more, for something bigger and something that full fills her completely. His cock throbbing like it hadn’t in the last 20 years, his heart aching, just wanting to be there and fill you to the brim, fuck you thoroughly and good just the way you deserve.

So he had enough, knocking on your door in the middle of the night like a mad man. His story dumb and not logical and if you were to ask a little more about that he probably would’ve run away in embarrassment. The sight of your small frame in that little tiny silk dress made it all worth it for him tho.

“Sorry, s’a mess in here. Not excepted any visitors.”

You stood there in your small bathroom, showing him your sink and he immediately got into his knees looking for the pipes underneath.

“S’okey. Not used to seeing something else anyways.” He chuckled but you didn’t smile nor did you make any expression because you were still mad at him.

He looked through the pipes and you looked at his board shoulders and back. But after a while it seemed to you like he didn’t know what he was doing. He just rolled the tubes around, inspecting them like they were showing signs of something wrong but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Agonising 5 minutes you stood there behind him, your back against your washing mashing and him still not doing anything but just inspecting and touching the pipes. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?

He turns around, looks at your eyebrows pinched and his gaze fall on your body. The bathroom was well lit so now everything was on display, your gown being see through and the cold in the night making your nipples hard, the patch of wetness visible on your panties.

Joel was about the lose it. He clenched his jaw, his eyebrows furrowing just more, his mouth going dry and the bulge in his pants making him uncomfortable, he could no longer deny the fact that he just came here because he wanted to see you—see you and totally take care of you.

“Can hear ya always, y’know?”

Your heart dropped, goosebumps spread all over your body as you looked at him dumbfounded. Completely loss at words as he just chuckled at your reaction.

“The walls are thin, sweetheart.”

Warmth spreading across your panties, a little gush. Your cheeks heated and red, you looked down, embarrassment washing down on you. Not only he was aware of your attraction to him, but also the way he had an influence on you and your body. Like he knew it like the back of his hand, knew what buttons to push to make you silent pliant doll for him.

Apparently that’s why he was there and somehow, you were happy. Somehow the deep embarrassment was leaving slowly by slowly and you completely wanted to give yourself to him, let him take the lead and do whatever he wanted with you.

Joel stood up, his tall frame caging you. His rough hand slowly landing on your hip, squeezing the flesh and earning a yelp from you. His tobacco and whiskey tinted smell clouding your mind once more, the desperation transforming to need.

You looked up to him while his hand explored your body, squeezing there and there, landing on your tits, massaging them roughly while giving extra attention to your perked up nipples, gently pulling them and pinching them. Your head fell into his chest, whining at the feeling on your breasts. He cooed into the room.

“Poor fucking, baby. Poor baby, got you so fuckin’ needy. Yea, got you so fucking needy baby.”

You felt like crying at how much needy he got you. His hands left your tits, gently grabbing your neck, then your hair tugging at it, making you look up to him with glassy eyes and a pleading look.

This is what he wanted to see. This fucked out look, lips swollen, eyes glassy and full of desperation and he didn’t even do anything yet. So easy to get worked up, so responsive to his touch.

He gently neared his lips to yours, you eagerly connecting them, kissing them with a whine. He was caught off guard but figured it out as the kiss intensified, his hands still in your hair, he made a pony tail tugging at it whenever you became too desperate, nearly bitting his lips off.

As he pulled away, you whined, always whining for his touch and his guidance. He looked at you for a good moment before tugging again on your hair making it fall back, revealing your neck to him. He hungrily kissed every inch of your cleavage, sucking marks there and on your neck. The impatience was growing, as you started to move around too much he pulled your hair again and strategically put his knee between your legs.

“Fucking desperate. How the hell am I supposed to work with this huh? Fidgety little girl. What are you gonna do when I bounce you on my cock? Gonna break it in half hm?”

“Nuh uh” you cried out, his knee starting to rub your cunt again just like the day he wanted to fix your fridge. His hands were still tugging your hair as you slowly get off to his knee, him just fixated on you, eyebrows pinched, completely mesmerised by your pleasure.

“Nah baby. We gotta set some rules. You wanna keep doin’ that, i’ll leave you with nothing. It’s either listening to me or I have you unsatisfied crying in your bed because your little fingers are not enough for you to get off.”

You nodded instantly, pausing your movements on his knee and looking at him as he let your hair free and slowly moved to the strings of your gown. Letting them fall down your arms and revealing your tits to him. He immediately latched on to your left nipple sucking and biting while you were controlling yourself not to buck on his knee.

“You do what I say when I say it, we clear?” He asked, your tit leaving his mouth with a pop.

“Yes”

“Repeat it.”

“I do everything you say when you are saying it.” You obediently repeated him, looking into his darkened eyes waiting for him to answer.

But he had other plans.

You yelped out as he unexpectedly hooked two fingers into you. You couldn’t even comprehend in what time he pulled down your panties and slid his hands down there. He groaned as you harshly tugged on his arms, making him closer then he already is, pressing you more into the washing machine behind you.

His fingers made a squelching sound whenever he drew them out and plugged them back in. Silent moans leaving your mouth, his fingers way bigger than his. It was stretching you, such an unusual feeling, hitting just the right spots you didn’t even know their existence about.

Sure you had sexual encounters before but none of these people ever took their time to really pleasure you.

Joels hand was dripping with your juices, it soaked his fingers full but he didn’t stop thrusting them into your cunt, not even when you shook your head from side to side babbling something about toomuch t-toomuch.

His gaze never left yours as he fucked you open, sometimes scissoring and curling them in you.

“Shh, shh. That’s it. Crying on two fingers already, how are you gonna take my cock hm? Have to stretch you out properly.”

Your fists were weakly banging on his chest as your body moved up and down on his fingers, your hips sitting on top his leg and back against the machine behind you. Your tits gently moving along the thrusts, he enjoyed the show, his face smug and knew that the pleasure was unbearable for you.

He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, gently stimulating it while your legs completely shook, your body gone limb as you cry out into the bathroom cumming all over his fingers. Joel’s fingers slowed down but still going in a good rhythm so you could ride out your orgasm properly.

Your breathing was still coming in quick, you laid your head on his chest and started to calm down.

“Talkin’ about too much. Little cunt s’gonna take more than that now, baby.”

“Mhm, please” you whined into his shirt, his fingers were still inside you, not moving, just gently feeling the pulsing and clenching of your cunt. The mess you made on his hand was still dripping down.

He took your hair into his fist again and tugged you back. It was hard for him to control himself when you looked like this, he didn’t even do much. One orgasm and you were trembling. Eyes red and swollen because you cried, cheeks still wet and mouth full of drool. What was he gonna do to you on his cock? Break you apart?

“Fucking hell, drooling and crying all over yourself. Look at ya. Pretty fucking girl” he kissed the your tears away, kissing your forehead, your chin and then your lips again. You lazily kissed him back, the energy and eagerness already slowed down with the release, you were floating.

You suddenly broke the kiss, crying out, feeling his fingers going in and out of your cunt again. He chuckled, tugging at your hair and pulling you into the kiss again. There was no time to think for you, he was overstimulating you every second. It was so sensitive that tears started to form in your eyes again.

“Mhph—please. Not again.” You whined shaking your head escaping his kiss.

He mockingly pouted at you, slowing down with his fingers.

“Gonna replace it with my cock and show you what to cry and pout about, hon. S’that what you want? Without proper stretching? Poor cunt would get all achy, baby.”

You wanted him to fuck you, truly. But at what state this was going, it would probably hurt a lot. So you listened to him and let him finger you again, your pussy clenching releasing gush after gush. You bit your lips as he started going faster and harder again, body moving up and down as you buried your face into his neck, now fully sobbing at the overwhelming stimulation.

“Just one more, c’mon angel. Cum on my fingers, show me you can take my cock”

You bit down his jacket, this one coming very tingly, stronger than the first one but more releasing, like a relief washing over you. You bucked your hips into his fingers, him holding you and sitting you down on the washing machine finally. With his other hand he rubbed your back up and down, while he slowed down with his pumping in your cunt.

“Atta girl, s’what i’m talking about. Always listening to me.”

He grazed over your little clit with his palm once, twice as you let the aftershocks of your orgasm settle in. You didn’t even notice when he picked you up and went to your bedroom.

He gently laid you down on your bed, your head completely clouded, legs spread as you burrowed your face into one of your pillows, humming.

“What a sight. Pretty girl on her pretty bed, swollen wet cunt on display, clenching on nothing.”

Joel took his jacket off while speaking, then his jeans dropped down, seeing his hard bulge absolutely leaking his shorts full. It was truly a miracle how he didn’t already cum in his pants while fingering you.

The bed weighted down as you felt him get on top of you, putting the pillow away from you and looking at you like a little puppy.

“Hi.” You squeaked.

“Hi, baby. Already getting tired on me?”

You shook your head. “No, jus’ feel good”

He chuckles at that, kissing all over your face and peking your lips.

“Now you gonna feel even better, honey.” you looked down seeing his huge cock out, angry leaking tip, twitching and releasing pre cum all over. His tip was huge and the rest of it girthy and big, and on the end there was his salt and pepper bush, covering him all over.

“S’huge” your worried eyes found him as he slowly started to jerk off his cock, squeezing the tip lightly making it ooze some precum out.

“Yea, that’s why. I told ya.”

Your cunt was begging for him to finally fuck you, but you were still worried that it might hurt you.

“Gonna take care of you, don’t worry baby. S’okey.”

His reassuring words made you feel safe, warm and bubbly, you loved his soft side. His mean side was hot but this side you preferred more. You gently run your head through his curls, tugging him for a kiss. He hummed into the kiss, deepening it, his cock slowly starting to stretch you out.

“When you want us to stop baby—fuck. Ya just scream red, s’ that clear?”

“I scream red, yes.” You repeated him just like he told you, earning a kiss on your forehead for that and a little good girl.

At first it was a slight stretch and sting that made you mewl into his lips, but he hushed you, slowly feeding his cock into you, slightly pulling out and doing the same again.

You pulled away from his lips with a cry, tears starting to form in your eyes as he gently held your left cheek, whispering sweet nothings, looking into your eyes. His other hand coming on your little button, swollen from the previous releases, he starts to rub you gently.

Your whimpers turn into little moans as you clench down on his cock that’s only is halfway in there.

“Doing so well, honey.” He whispered “so so well.” and that with another rub on your clit was all it took for you to come on his cock again. This was the most powerful one. Your whole body shook as you buried your head into the pillows on top of you and joel making holding you close to him, as you ride out your orgasm. He grunts, trying not to cum with you clenching down on his dick hard.

Joel takes the chance to fully insert himself into you while you were still dealing with the climax, face still buried in the pillow, the moans filling the room, he loved every second of it. Turned you into a crying mess. Daddydaddydaddy you whimpered into out, his eyes widened, a deep growl coming from him, his cock in you throbbing with need.

He felt absolutely feral, he didn’t give you time to adjust you on his cock and placed his hands on your waist, slowly but surely thrusting in and out of you, your gushing heat perfectly hugging him and the lots of cum you already released mixing perfectly with his pre cum, making it easier to just hold you and fuck into you.

This is what you needed. You were always imagining this scenario in your head whenever you got off, imagining him taking care of you, handling you and making you feel safe in his arms.

“Was right with stretching you out huh? Look how easy you are taking this cock in you, baby.”

He held your neck, pulling you away from the pillows, making you slightly sit up and watch how his shaft is disappearing completely in and out. You whined, legs shaking as you tried to escape from his grip so you could burrow your face into the pillow again, but he didn’t let you.

“Nuh uh, watch how i’m fucking ya.” He growled, his hips never slowing down on you, your cunt feeling too good, too tight. He never wanted to stop.

“Always with the tears. Just crumbling all over daddy’s dick. S’what you are good for, dumb little girl like you”

So he kept fucking you.

In and out, In and out.

The matress underneath you completely soaked with your mess, one of his hands patiently rubbing your clit while the other one wiping your tears away. His lips always grazed yours, placing kisses all over your neck, suckling, knowing you are going to be all bruised up tomorrow.

“Please—gonna—daddy.” you cried out, his cock leaving your pussy as you squirted into his torso, your body shaking, legs going numb and your face completely sobbing.

“Fuck, angel. Keep going baby.” He kept rubbing at your little nub, while you released gush after gush, your body completely exhausted at this point, going limb on the mattress. It was unbelievable, you never squirted before and it felt like heaven came down on you. The pleasure was unbearable at this point, your cunt completely overstimulated, swollen and red. You looked up to him, breathing heavily you saw him jerking off his cock, dangerously close to your pussy. He wasn’t going to fuck you one more time right?

“S’too much”

“Y’know what to say, when it’s really too much.” He sternly told you, holding his hand on your chin making you look into his eyes. You nodded, mouth dry not having the energy to repeated anything right now. Luckily he accepted that.

Your body completely bucked and shook as you felt his cock entering you once more. Your fists tried to fight him off, but there was no use. He began thrusting again, he held your face in his hands and just stroked the tears away.

“Shh sh. None of that. C’mon now, with daddy. One more.”

He fucked you absolutely without slowing down. Your throat was hurting at how much you were sobbing and pleading him no. But he wasn’t letting up.

“What if I fill ya up hm? Make this belly full.”

You shook your head, eyes widening as he chuckled.

“People—the people are gonna talk. Would kill you”

“Yeah baby? They would kill me? For filling you up, making you a mama? What if we test that theory out hm?”

You couldn’t help but clench, his smugness turning you on, the way he insisted doing whatever he pleases, your mind going to the morning after pill you still had in one of your drawers. The relief washing over you, as you buried your face into his neck, feeling his thrusts getting messier and messier.

Your nipples were rubbed raw on his shirt, your hands tugging at his curls, his lips attaching them on your neck. He was growling and moaning into your ear, you’ve never heard something hotter.

“S’that what you wanted? Old man fucking you, filling you up, making you his hm? Taking care of you. Just like the little pillow princess she is” your hips bucked up to him, matching his thrusts, you were close.

“Please— s’what I wanted uh huh, yes” you nodded your head quickly, feeling his lips forming a smile on your neck.

His thrusts grew sloppier and sloppier and as you felt his muscles clench and one of his hand sneaking down, starting to rub at your poor sensitive clit again.

“C’mon with me, baby. One last time, cum for daddy angel.”

This one was more soft and more loving than the other ones because you guys came together, you clenched down on his dick while he released in you, filling you up.

He grunted into your ear while slowly and surely he was done, his cock growing soft in you. You kissed him on the cheek, making him look up to you. His face was exhausted pretty brown eyes droopy and lips were swollen. Now he was the one who truly looked fucked out. He smiled to you, feeling tiredness overcome him as he softly buried his face into your neck and closed his eyes. You stroked his curls, his back making him hum. And then you heard snoring coming, knowing he fell asleep.

“Poor old man.” You closed your eyes too, satisfied.

That was A LOT. I hope this somehow makes up for tomorrow’s episode (i’m not ready). Again, feedback is gladly appreciated, i’m still new to writing. i’m so happy that lots of people liked the first part and now I have almost 200 followers which is crazy! 😭🤭

Thank you for all the people reading and especially for the people who wanted a pt. 2! @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @iamsherlocked-1998 @viicwz @jasminedragoon @pedroswife69

[sweetnothingtm]

♡ i imagine that Simon Riley is the type to spoil you rotten ♡

Simon doesn’t check his bank statements anymore - just hands you his card and plants a sloppy kiss on your smiling face.

Simon carries all your shopping bags without hesitation, even while you drain him of his worth. He scrolls his phone while you shop aimlessly, his eyes lazily dragging to your frame as you showcase what you want while he waves a hand at you.

yes - anything you want. yes - i mean it, sweetheart.

He follows you like a lost dog through the stores, practically begging for your attention as you wiggle your ass into a million different outfits.

I bet he takes you to all the lingerie stores. It’s his favorite part of the day, squeezed into a changing room as you strip in front of him. He always has a devious smirk, latching the stall lock into place as you hang up every scrap of fabric.

You’d twirl around in a tight lace, lip caught between your teeth as Simon palms himself through his jeans. He’d stare at you, eyes glowing with desire as you innocently checked yourself out and hummed.

do you like it? how do i look?

you look good enough to let me fuck you right now. matter of fact - bend over for me, sweetheart.

Simon would press you up against the mirror, dick pressed against your ass with his breath fanning against your neck. His teeth would graze against your skin, little whimpers coming from your lips as you roll your hips.

His fingers would press into your waist, digging into the silk panties with a price tag hanging off of them. $45 - damn expensive for a pair, but he considered you priceless.

When he inevitably ruins the fabric by cumming all over it, you’d have a little pout spread across your face. He’d roll his eyes, promising you another pair and splaying a hand against your ass while his camera clicks for a photo.

you look too fucking good, might just have to fuck you again when we’re home. you’d like that - wouldn’t you little slut?

Simon Riley would shrug his shoulders when the sales person would ask why theres panties in the trash. He’d swipe his card, hardly looking at the bill as he picked up another bag and watched you glow with happiness.

He always buys you dinner, opens every door for you, and slings his jacket around your shoulders. His hand always rests on your thigh when he drives, fingers tracing delicate shapes on your soft skin.

When he looks over to you, you’re already glowing with adoration and love - a twinkle in your eye as he squeezes your leg and hums.

did you like the gifts, princess? i spoil you huh?

[jeonkaijoon]

Benefits of the doubt - YJW

pairing: yang jungwon x f!reader

wc: 5.4k

genre: oneshot, smut, slice of life(?)

tags: softdom!jungwon, dry humping, petnames (baby/doll), roomates to fuckbuddies (i guess), unprotected sex (don't do it!!), p in v, big ass amount of makeout, praise kink, fingering, explicit language ofc honestly no more i think? they simply fuck after crushing on eachother for ages...

AUTHORS NOTE: well i haven't wrote in two years i was scared i had lost my spark but here we are,,, little shout out to my friend yuni for giving me the starting point to write this! it took me a whole month between finals and everything… i’m rusty sorry- anyway hope you like it :3 also not fully proofread i hope there aren't too many errors but lmk!!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When you were deep in your library study session, nothing could distract you. Barely a tornado warning had budged you from your seat last time, but honestly your life was very much more important than a good grade in macroeconomics.

But actually, something that budged you existed. And also had a name.

“So,” a familiar voice diverted you from your study session. “Any plans for tonight?” 

The name was Jungwon.

You have been flatmates for years, splitting rent on the apartment you rented for college, but barely see each other during the week, given the different lessons and work schedule you both have.

You shook your head, still keeping your gaze on the words in front of you. After 4 hours of reviewing, they had very much stopped making sense a while ago but you weren’t the one to give up.  

“Nope, the girls are either out with their boyfriends or studying, so i'm left with you and books to read. You got something?” You asked, finally raising your head and taking his sight in.

He had his usual jersey on, the one from the taekwondo college club he was part of. Some baggy jeans and his gym shoes are still on. He was sweaty and just finished practice, strands of hair clinging on his forehead and cheeks slightly flushed. You gulped and bit the inside of your cheek. He looked incredibly good. And to think you had seen him get through the door like this plenty of times.

“Alright. Night In? The party got cancelled and I have no will to go clubbing.” he suggested

“S-sure” you stuttered, but he looked like he didn't notice.

“See you later then, I’m going home” He waved at you and went.

As mentioned before, because of his practice, both of you’s uni lessons and work, you barely saw each other in the living room you shared.

But on the weekend, if either of you had plans, you'd just spend time together. It started the first year because you both wanted to know each other better, but became some sort of tradition overtime.. Just as friends, given that you would have to live together for about 4 years if nothing changed. 

Your third year had just started, and you knew Jungwon better than most of his friends could say they did. It came naturally, living together and spending the whole weekend together. 

Naturally too, you might have caught feelings for him. 

But nothing ever happened between the two of you.

He’s brought girls to your apartment at times, hooking up and kicking them out in the morning, keeping it quiet if he knew you were in your room studying late. 

You had started catching feelings during the second year, cause you had found out enough about him at that point and he was just an amazing person. He was simple and kind, liked a ton of different things that you liked too, always smelled nice, always smiled and kept up with your sad moments after you got a bad grade or a date went bad.

You defined him as some sort of best friend, but it was obvious that there was more from you. Sad to say, you were sure he wouldn't feel the same.

However over the summer, something had changed. 

He texted you more than a couple times to catch up, and since the start of the semester he not once has mentioned a girl to you.

Overall he felt different, he was weirdly not interested in parties that much anymore and just kept up with taekwondo, he's been studying till late with you and hasn't hung out with his friends on weekends in about a month, saying he was either too tired or wanted yet another night in with you cause you were home alone.

This “tradition” of yours consisted in ordering takeout and talking about ups and downs you had this week, lessons you skipped cause finals were still far, girls hitting on him and him laughing about how you never got hit on no one hitting on you (not that you didn't want to be hit on, but the one you wanted to be hit on by was right in front of you and he seemed not to notice your crush on him, EVER.) 

Lastly, try to watch a movie, just to end up snoring on each other 10 minutes in because of how tired you've been the whole week. 

But again, nothing ever happened between the two of you. Although you could feel that something had sparked up. After all, the way he looked at you had somehow shifted. 

Slightly, yes. But it did and you were sure. 

Despite that, you didn't want to get your hopes up.

You finished studying and headed home, thinking about what you wanted to eat tonight. When you entered the door, you heard the shower in Jungwon’s room still going. You placed your bag on the counter and read a post-it note. 

“I already called takeout, we are eating korean tonight, whether you like it or nah :)” 

You smiled. 

You loved it when he decided what to eat because he usually had the best taste. The image of him writing you that note got a chuckle out of you.

Absent-mindedly, you went towards your room to change into some home clothing, scrambling in your closet just to put on an oversized shirt without your bra, which you took off with a sigh of relief.

Lastly a pair of shorts, again, pretty big on you considering how short you were compared to him: not much, but enough for him to constantly tease you about it.

You looked at yourself and called it an outfit. It didn't even dawn on you that those clothes were probably Jungwon’s and got mixed in a quick unload of laundry and ended up in your drawers.

You happily walked towards the living room, knowing your week was finally over and you could rest.

Just then, the outline of Jungwon’s body displayed itself in front of you, him leaning upright on the counter and munching on an apple while lazily scrolling on his phone. 

Your body froze and took a look at him. Or maybe two, given that you ended up staring from far away.

The sight that unraveled in front of you was ethereal. 

His hair was damp, drops of water descending from them and falling on his collarbone, your eyes inadvertently followed one of them dripping on the floor and his chest. 

His chest was sculpted, abs toned and veins prominent towards his v-line.

God only knew the amount of times you had prayed to see him like this.

Luckily for you or maybe him (perhaps), he was not fully naked, but had joggers on, the band of his boxer briefs still peeking out.

You had been looking at him for a good 2 minutes, and it took you a little while to realize he had obviously noticed you almost drooling in his face. 

He moved in your direction while stifling a laugh and waved a hand in front of your face.

“Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” He eyed you from head to toe grinning sarcastically. He tilted his head slightly and took another look at you.

“Also, are you wearing my shirt? It looks just like the one I lost last week…” He said, and walked past you towards his bedroom like nothing had happened.

You didn't even reply. You couldn't, to be honest. You didn't have the words in you to do that. 

So you just sat on the couch and turned the tv on.

You hadn't seen it, but he had smirked amusedly on the way to his room to put on another shirt.

Moreover, you didn't know he was well aware of this “little” but quite obvious crush you had on him: you were not the best at hiding things, often forgetting them around the house and it became his duty to bring them back to you in your room. Additionally, he knew your cycle calendar today signalled ovulation. 

How?

You had left open your agenda on the coffee table and he checked what your lessons were, out of curiosity. 

You sometimes appointed your period or ovulation there even though you had apps, but it purely was just to be attentive of your body and remember to buy tampons.

When what had happened finally snapped you out of your trance, you felt your cheeks flushed red. It had been the most embarrassing moment so far with him.

You had no intention of looking at him like he was the takeout meal you were about to eat, but it came naturally when he looked like that. 

For him it was apparently all normal, he roamed around the house like this all of the time probably, but for you? Not really. 

You either hadn't paid attention to him, or you've been blind.

Jungwon came back out of his room. A shirt finally (or unfortunately, you didn't know how to put it) had been worn to cover his chest.

When take out arrived, you rushed to the door even before he could say “A”.

You ate in absolute silence.

Your eyes were fixed on the movie he had chosen for this week.

Lalaland. As if you hadn't seen it a hundred times already.

He glanced at you a couple times, you were slurping on your soy sauce soaked japchae and didn't dare spare him a gaze.

That's when it kicked in his brain.

His plan had already partially succeeded. 

Alas, he still wanted to see how much further he could push you before you would break for him.

“How was your week?” he faux innocently asked.

“Good” you answered, eyes still glued to the screen. Along with the food, a beer came to help the clear distress you had on your body.

There was a palpable silence for a long time, but Jungwon obviously broke it.

He couldn't hide the laugh that came out of his throat when he saw your cheek swollen with food.

You tried to ignore him until you finished your bowl, but eventually turned your head and frowned. 

You put your fish down on the coffee table, crossed your arms and looked at him still chewing.

“What’s so funny?” You inquired, tired of hearing him laughing at you.

“You are,” he replied smiling, taking the last bite of his tteokbokki. You pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes in a thin line and tilted your head in his direction.

“How so, Jungwon?” You asked, seriously toned.

“It’s funny how you act around me. Thinking I don’t see through you or something.” He sneered.

You straightened up. What in the world did he mean with that?

He continued: “I’ve known you long enough to know how you act when something bothers you, something makes you happy, something makes you excited.” You chew the inside of your cheek.

He slightly moved towards you.

“I know how forgetful you are. How many clothes of mine are in your drawer even. How you think I didn't notice all the times you sneaked in my room to steal a shirt to wear.” He placed two fingers on your thigh and made them “walk” over your leg, all the way up to your shoulder.

“I know how much you like it when I am the one deciding what to eat because you don’t like making decisions.” Oh great. He could assume one more thing.

“I know full well how you know this movie by heart but you would watch it all over again with me. Oh and I also noticed you clenched your thighs when the actors kissed.” Nice. You were one second away to fuse yourself with the couch out of shame. 

Not to mention how this thing was singlehandedly making your panties wet like a waterfall. Feeling him so close to you? You thought you were used to it at this point. But clearly this was not the normal night you were expecting to spend with him.

“Also, I know how worked up I am making you right this moment and most importantly: I know you like me.” A side of his mouth raised in a grin.

You swallowed. You surely weren't good at hiding things but besides today’s incident of staring, you thought you were doing good enough.

Apparently not.

You looked at him, trying to mumble something coherent to make up an excuse, but you just weren't able to.. Your face was burning, your eyes couldn't stay still on something, they were only looking flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Cat got your tongue as I revealed your little secret?” He smiled, but he looked sincere.

“Jungwon-” he licked his lips before speaking, and it took your words out of his mouth.

You realized he was actually being sincere by the next sentence that came out of his mouth. 

“You think I havent started developing something for you in the three years that I’ve known you? Everytime you text me to ask for groceries preferences and I’m around the boys, Sunghoon teases me like a madman.” You giggle along with him at this confession. It’s cute to think of him like a loverboy.

“There’s no use in denying it now, is there?” You lowered your head slightly, suddenly appreciating how nice your floor was, not daring to look at him anymore.

On one hand, you feel almost defeated. But if it really is mutual, what was the reason for lying?

“Nope,” He used his pointer finger to gently lift your chin up. “But should we do something about it? Or are we gonna ignore how we just revealed to each other our feelings and call it a night, just to reciprocally avoid us out of embarrassment tomorrow?” He kept looking at you.

You know what? Fuck it. That was your quickest thought process ever. You grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and crushed your lips onto his. 

Either he would reciprocate you, or push you away and tell you you were out of your mind. You tested the waters. And the waters came clear. He melted into your boldness, intertwining his lips with yours. It was so slow and so yearning. 

With the movie long forgotten in the background, his hands roamed your body, cupping your jaw first and then resting on your hips. It felt like the world around you had shattered to pieces. The way his lips synchronized with yours effortlessly was practically like a sign. You couldn’t stop kissing him. It felt natural to finally have him on you and the best part? He was thinking the same.

He licked your lips with his tongue, asking for permission to explore it. You gave in and he did what he wanted, deepening the kiss even more than you thought he could.

He manhandled your hips and brought you to straddle him with so much ease you felt like you were a feather. And you were sooo waiting for him to do that.

One of his hands rested against your nape, stroking caressing it with his thumb and sending shivers down your spine. The other one instead reached for your hair, trying to make you match the movement of his head. And again, it came so naturally.

Jungwon’s breath was shortened and detached from you, a little string of saliva still connecting your mouths. Panting, he caressed your cheek with his thumb in slow strokes.

“Fuck baby, If i knew you kissed this nicely i wouldn’t have held my selfback all this time.” he murmured, breathless.

The pet name made your core throb. “So you want to kiss me again?” you bit your lower lip, hesitating almost.

“Shouldn’t even be a question,” he said, chest raising and lowering so quickly.

And he restarted it all, connecting your lips together once again.

In the meantime, an ache between your legs had risen.

How he had you positioned was just the perfect point to get some friction. 

You could feel the bulge growing in his boxers and he was getting harder by the second, almost like he was waiting for you to rock your hips on him, without even realizing it.

He moaned in your mouth while you were grinding yourself on his crotch. He just let you.

The sounds he emitted were making your head spin in the kiss.

Your clit was perfectly centered over the tip of his shaft somehow and…God. 

It felt otherworldly. You moved your hips all back and forth, circular, pushing down on him, even still clothed. You had surely been touch deprived lately because you haven't hooked up in a while, your last boyfriend had broken up with you two years ago now, so you didn't have much to get down on other than your vibrator and thoughts of fucking your roommate, who usually was in his bedroom with a girl.

Let’s just say he was not that silent.

Ever. 

Even when he was alone at home, or thought he was, in the shower, in his bedroom watching porn… you could hear him easily with doors closed. You wondered if he knew he was loud, or maybe your hearing was just peak.

Nonetheless, having him underneath you this way felt just like a whole new experience.

Whines coming out of your throat just to get swallowed by his own and vice versa, and you noticed how, every once in a while, as you were working to reach your high, he thrusted up between your legs trying to pleasure himself. 

You kept kissing, your hands were basically glued to his nape, while your hair was a mess because he couldn't stop touching them. 

Your panties were utterly soaked, they had even leaked on his joggers. He had started groping your ass at one point, moving you against him quicker and harder.

You had been kissing so much that although you had no more breath, you hardly could stop.

But just then you had to unsay what you just said.

He looked absolutely spent, his cheeks were of a strawberry color, his lips swollen and shiny and you could barely feel yours.

“F-fuck, wait” he muttered suddenly, stopping the movement of your hips with his free hand. “What?” You asked, completely out of breath. 

“I’m really trying to be the gentleman here but you are making me want to take you on this damn couch, baby.” You lowered your head in embarrassment and he tucked a strand of hair behind your hair. 

“You’ve been grinding me so nicely until now, you want me bad don't you?” He sneaked a hand down your shorts to feel the pool that had ruined your panties at this point.

As he touched you, his mouth went O. “Panties damp already, could've told me I got you this wet, I would have helped you earlier…”

“I was close” you spit.

“Oh well then.” he smirked. He moved you just enough to make you straddle only one of his legs and motioned you to continue.

“Cum on my thigh. And I want you to soak me good.” You immediately rubbed your clit on him as hard as you could.

The friction your heat was searching for was being relieved. 

Your arms were around his neck, one of his hands sneaked under your shirt while he was watching you. He wanted to see your tits too badly, but for now he was only gonna imagine. Or partially.

He squeezed your flesh in his grip, grazing his thumb on your nipple, already so sensitive.

You threw your head back and moaned, about to break.

He had started palming himself through his joggers, he was so hard it almost hurt.

Your whines were like music, feeding his hunger.

You had been rubbing quicker and quicker, and along with his hands on your boobs, he elongated his neck just enough to kiss you behind your ear.

“Come for me baby” was all it took. 

Your body stilled, the knot that had been holding your stomach hostage finally snapped and you let out such a guttural sound Jungwon had to put a hand on your mouth to avoid a noise complaint from the neighbors in the morning, so you bit so hard it bled.

Everything you had been holding in just exited out of you, irremediably wetting the crotch area of your shorts and his joggers. It felt sticky and so wet it was almost uncomfortable, but you would've thought about that later. 

You felt every part of you seized from the orgasm, trembling with the aftershock and your limbs falling boneless against Jungwon’s body, who was just there ready to catch you. 

“Good job, baby” he said, caressing the end of your back, waiting for you to catch your breath.

Just resting on his chest was nice, but you noticed how he had now lowered his pants and his dick was painfully twitching inside of his boxers, a tiny wet patch on them appearing where his tip was located.

No more dry humping, you needed him inside.

You didn't think twice before reaching out for it and taking his boxers down to reveal it. He wasn't huge, but surely if he hadn't prepped you enough it was going to hurt regardless. You wrapped your fingers around it and started slowly stroking it, hearing him hiss. 

“Oh? Eager to touch me just after I made you cum?”

“Gotta return the favor.” You tilted your head upwards, just enough to peck his lips.

He shifted just enough to get your mouths on the same level, and kissed you while you moved your hand up and down his dick.

Had he fallen for his own trap? Maybe. But you looked too good to be left with blue balls again.

“F-fuck how come are you making me even harder right now” He whispered, making a shiver run down your body.

He started to thrust up in your hand pretty quickly, and when you noticed you tried to lower your head to take him into your mouth, but just then, he stopped you.

“I want to taste you too, but I want to get inside that pussy so badly right now or I might go crazy.”

With the swiftest movement ever he picked you up like a potato sack and brought you to his bedroom, and before you could reply to anything he had already laid you on his bed, taken your bottoms down and was 2 knuckles deep inside of you. He was fingering you at a slow pace, just to make you more wet and ready for him, while leaving trails of kisses from your ears down to your belly button and up again. 

You grabbed his face and crashed your lips together, suppressing the moans he was making you fall out of your throat. His fingers never stopped moving, his thumb reaching for your clit and rubbing it just right.

You tugged on his shirt, and he took it off in one move, taking his finger out and getting them back in as soon as the sleeve was off of him.

Meanwhile you took your own off and exposed your chest to him.

It didn't feel awkward, if anything it felt on the contrary. As soon as you freed your tits he was the one staring this time, like the sight had some kind of spell on him. Normally, you would've thought “ugh,men.” with a disgusted look on your face, but Jungwon looked amazed. 

"You looked so hot in my clothes, you should borrow them more ofter, doll." He kissed you again without a warning and then descended to your jaw, whispering. “I just know you feel amazing, she’s swallowing my fingers for how tight she is.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You bit your lower lip.

“Oh, absolutely. And those tits deserve some compliments too.” he lowered his mouth on your chest without ever breaking eye contact.

He wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples and took the other one between the fingers of his free hand. He was moving like a starved man.

You were asking yourself if you were about to reach heaven. He did everything go smoothly.

He licked, kissed, sucked, twirled, bit your nipple. Everything he could to make you feel good.

Like you deserved a prize. 

For what? You didn’t know. But did that really matter?

As you moaned, he detached from you nipple and kissed your neck, nibbling on your earlobe too.

“Cumming for me again, baby?” You nodded, biting your lip to suppress the hideous sounds rising from inside your throat.

You should’ve stayed silent, cause he took his finger out and took off the last piece of clothing that restrained him. Your eyes followed the movement of his hands as he was discarding his boxers, and god, he was even thicker than what you thought.

“Not before I have my cock in you” he tilted his head with a mischievous smile. He then licked his fingers, still soaked in your scent and glistening with your slick.

He spread your legs and gave one kitten lick to your pussy. Only one, as if he hadn't just you tasted his own fingers.

“As nice as I always thought you would be,” he said smirking, moving on top of you.

“Jungwon” You whined. All this teasing was making you crazy.

“Mh?” He fisted his cock in his hand, caressing your side with the other.

“Please” you wailed.

“Please what baby? Be clear with your words.” His eyes were dark with desire, roaming all over your body, praising you in his mind.

You looked like a goddess normally, even with your hair tangled in a makeshift bun, usually held on with a pencil because of how usually you lost hair ties around the house. But underneath him? It was even better than he had ever imagined. He surely was gonna bust a nut to this image, as it was already engraved in his brain.

Hestared into your eyes, moving his shaft up and down your folds, gathering wetness and spreading it on his tip. He felt so close yet so far, almost putting it in just to retract the moment you whined.

“Jungwon, please fuck me” You blurted out.

“What was that?” he asked again, teasingly. His smile was cocky. But in reality, he was about to lose his composure.

You licked your lips, almost embarrassed. 

You reached for his head and brought it down until his forehead touched yours.

“I said fuck me, Wonie.” you whispered.

He smirked, almost looking like his ears perked up. “With pleasure”

And with no further warning, he eased himself into you in one swift motion.

You moaned in unison when he let your walls engulf his length. 

You were wet enough, yes, but he surely was sized.

“See? I was right. Swallowing me like the good girl you are.” He stilled his hips, to let you get accustomed a little. But to say it felt divine to have you around him was an understatement. He kept caressing you slowly, trying to be the gentleman and reduce the tension in the room, so sharp you could cut it with a knife. 

“Shit, you feel so tight…how long have you starved her?” He asked, chuckling and leaving pecks on your nose to make you less nervous and stop clenching so hard around him.

“A while,” you replied, trying to keep your eyes open.

You tried to move your head to the side to not look at him in embarrassment, but he noticed immediately and grabbed your chin with his hand, bringing back eye contact.

“Nuh uh baby, you look at me when I'm inside you, nowhere else.”

Not even sure why, but you clenched again and he gulped.

And so he bottomed out, just for you to reply with another moan. 

And that was it, he knew you were more than eager to take him.

He slid back in, drawing a breath out of you. And kept going, slowly building up a steady pace.

How his hips were slapping against your pelvis, his mouth searching yours, trails of saliva being left around while sucked blue marks on your neck to avoid making sounds, but he knew he wouldn't last much shutting up.

In fact, you suddenly brought your legs to wrap around his hips and this new position made him go even deeper, thrusting so hard you felt his dick actually twitch inside you. 

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” he tried to muffle a moan by biting his lips till it bled, but you still heard him loud and clear.

“Are you trying to keep sounds from me now? Don't act all shy when you're balls deep inside of me…” you teased. And maybe he secretly wanted you to say that.

“You’re driving me nuts, baby,” he said, turning his head from the crook of your neck just to see you better.

“Your moans drive me nuts, Wonie. You were so loud when you came alone in your bedroom yesterday, I heard you loud and clear.”

You had heard him moan all this time and said nothing. What if you got off on his moans like he did? He had dreamed of you for so long, and now that he had you, he wasn’t sure he was going to hold on to it as a “dream” anymore. His dick twitched again at the thought. Fucking you raw. Cumming inside. Seeing it spill out of you. Seeing you sprawled on his bed. Oh, you were hot. And he surely was not gonna let it be a one time thing.

“This pussy feels like she was made to fit me- fuck.” His thrust had become harder, bottoming out everytime. He was hitting that spot inside of you that made your vision go white. 

“Jungwon- Fuck! Right there” You moaned. You felt a familiar knot in your stomach starting to beg you to be freed. 

“Weren’t we supposed to keep it quiet so as not to get complaints from the neighbors tomorrow?” you asked.

“You used the right past tense, were. But now that I had a taste of you, nothing's gonna stop me from making you scream my name out everytime you come for me.” Jungwon replied, sitting up and looking directly where you two were connected. 

You squealed as he circled your already sensitive clit, bringing you just on the edge once again.

“Mhhh- Close, Wonie” you murmured. 

“I’m not stopping you this time, let go for me doll, c’mon.” He replied, tone sweet but the sense of neediness was very much still there.

He laced his mouth on one of your very perked up nipples, and just how he licked it made your body shut down.

One of the loudest noises you ever made escaped your mouth. 

He could see how your legs had started to tremble, back arching off the bed, breath ragged and whimpering loudly. You really were bringing him to his own peak without even touching him.

His thrust still didn't stop. If anything, he was gladly fucking you through your orgasm, making your head spin even harder.

“Such a good girl for me” he mumbled, kissing your neck. 

“Your cunt’s milking me… won’t last much longer, baby” 

His hips were frantically moving inside you, and he knew he was near.

He whined. “W-where?”

You kissed him for a moment and whispered in his ear. “Inside”

His abs almost hurt from how he was holding back. “You want all of it baby, don’t you?”

“Mh-mh” you nodded. “Please”

“Say it” he was gritting his teeth. 

“Won…” You pleaded, again. He was making you beg like it was a prayer.

“I didn’t hear you say it baby” he looked at you, his eyes darkening and his thrusts quickening.

“Fill me up, please Jungwon. I want all of it.” Your eyes closing, unable to handle how good he was making you feel.

As soon as the words left your mouth, a gasp escaped it as well. You felt him push himself to the tilt as his movement halted almost completely while hot ropes of cum coated your insides. 

The silence of that moment was deep. 

It felt like everything kept hidden for years had finally been unleashed.

You looked at eachother. 

Breathless. Spent. Sweaty. 

Jungwon’s hair was clinging to his forehead, his mouth slightly agape. He eased himself out of you, watching his release gush out of your hole slowly.

He kissed you sweetly, smiling against your mouth, just to collapse next to you right after.

“You know we’re not just roommates anymore, right?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

please don't be a silent reader, i really appreciate feedbacks :3

[shellshocklove]

brat! | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak

summary: joel is having a brat summer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes, reader wears a dress, heels and lipstick but otherwise no other descriptions, use of pet names, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, manhandling, a little exhibitionism? fingering, choking, spitting, a little dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), cock worship, spanking, degradation (whore, slut), some sub space territory, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), creampie, one use of the word ‘daddy’, no use of y/n

a/n: this was fun! and naughtier than i thought it was gonna be 💀 i’ve never written a reader so far removed from my own personality lol and i’m kind of obsessed with how this turned out. anyways stream brat by charlie xcx and happy reading! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Blitzes of red, green, and blue danced before your eyes. The beating in your temples in tune with the bass vibrating in your chest. Around you the faceless bodies moved in slow motion. The heat rose around you as the sweat clung to your skin.

You’re sure you’ve lost your friends. Well, not lost lost. They were in the dancing crowd somewhere. Behind you, the same ugly guy had been rubbing up against you for a minute too long. You knew because you’d tipped your head back once and his borderline bowl cut hair, polo shirt with deep sweat rings under his arms, and tan chinos, were not it.

His breath stank of tequila when he leaned into your ear, “Hey,” he slurred, “wanna get out of here?”

And that had been your cue to leave.

With a scoff, you turned around to get a good look at him. You’d sized him up, made a show of it, and laughed in his face. Then you pushed your way through the crowd, coming up for air by the bar.

The earlier buzz you’d been sailing on, had weaned off a long time ago. It had been last minute, you weren’t even going out tonight, just having dinner with your childhood friends while you were home for the summer. But then one of them had ordered shots for the table just as the last plate had been cleared, and soon you were at the club cruising on a couple of glasses of wine and a lousy shot. Not that it mattered, usually you ended up twirling some sorry man around your finger long enough to get yourself a couple of rounds, before you’d excuse yourself to the ladies’ room and leave with your friends.

Looking down the bar, you searched for tonight’s victim.

To your right a group of girls huddled around the edge, waiting for their own drinks by the looks of it.

Not them.

Down to your left, a boy with a face full of acne fumbled with his card as he paid for a round of beers. He didn’t even look old enough to be in here, but that wasn’t your problem. You had to hold back a laugh as you watched him struggle to figure out how to carry the five beers he’d ordered back to his friends. He ended up gathering them in a circle to wrap his hands around, and you’d seen this go wrong plenty of times to feel the pull of an amused smile on your lips.

When he’d vanished into the crowd, your eyes flicked back to the bar, to the man sitting there– and he was a man. Probably somewhere in his fifties you reckoned, but he looked gorgeous. A real dilf. Your interest was piqued.

You slid down the bar.

He didn’t look particularly amused where he sat at a bar stool, nursing a beer in his hands. Who sits at the bar in the club? He looked nice. Brown hair, dark jeans, and a grey t-shirt stretched deliciously over his chest. When you got closer you could see a flannel resting beside him on the bar.

Is this what older men wear to the club these days?

He didn’t seem to notice you as you sat down next to him – either that, or he ignored you. You kinda wished for the latter, it would make it more fun.

You gave him a few more minutes of silence, of your presence, to see if he’d say something to you. When he didn’t you asked him over the music, “Aren’t you gonna buy me a drink?”

You said it innocently, but like it was obvious and he hadn’t caught on yet. His head turned towards you, still unamused, but with his eyebrow raised.

Okay, you could work with that.

You didn’t say anything as he studied you, drank you in like you’d done to him from afar. You felt his gaze over your clinging dress, your bare shoulders, before they found your eyes.

Something tickled in your core, and you were reminded of how long it had been since you’d been properly fucked– fucked by someone who wasn’t some drunk guy at your college’s parties, but fucked by someone who knew what they were doing.

The man turned towards you; a smile tickling the corner of his mouth.

“Does that usually work f’you, sweetheart?”

You weren’t expecting his rebuttal, but you liked it. He wasn’t some boy who’d trip over himself for the privilege of being in the presence of you. The boys – they made it too easy – but this man would make you work for it.

Putting on your most saccharine smile you slid closer to him, “You looked so lonely over here– thought I’d keep you company.”

A scoffing laugh escaped him, and his head dipped, “’s that so?” His eyes found yours again.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you ignored his question, and brushed your heeled foot up the length of his calf.

“Ain’t ever been here before,” he kept his eyes on your face, his drawl pulling at the words and twisting up your insides.

“So, a virgin, huh?” you teased, and that seemed to amuse him.

“What– you’re here to pop my cherry?”

This time an amused smile pulled at your face. You liked this man. “Not without a drink first,” your foot slid down his calf, “what do you take me for?”

A bright sense of pride filled your chest when you made him laugh, filling you up with confidence.

“D’you want me to answer that?” he rebutted.

He didn’t say it with any malice, it was teasing and playful, and it pulled at the veil inside you. A genuine smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, “Probably not.”

“What can I getcha, then, sweetheart?”

“G&T?” you said, and bit down on your bottom lip coquettishly.

Turning away from you, the man got the attention of the bartender. You watched his profile, followed the line of his jaw, the shape of his nose. You decided then and there that your night was gonna end in this man’s bed.

“Sooo,” you sang, when you’d gotten your drink, “first time here, huh?” The man just nodded, before he sipped his beer.  

Not much of a talker, huh?

“You here alone, or? With the wife maybe?”

That pulled a laugh from him. “I’m here with my lil’ brother… bachelor party,” he shook his head, like he couldn’t believe he’d gotten dragged in here, “he’s gettin’ married next month.”

“Ah,” you nodded and took a sip of your drink. “So, where are you heading next? A strip club?” you teased.

The man just shot you an unimpressed look, and you thought about how you’d never seen a man look so out of place, ever.

“What? The wife won’t let you?”

A sharp huff escaped him, “Ain’t got no wife no more,” he said matter-of-factly.

You took another sip of your drink to hide the smile from forming.

Bingo.

“I take it you’re a man who does what he wants, then?” you said it innocently, and subtly slid your hand over his knee. His eyes caught yours at the touch, and you swore you saw something change in them.

You’d hooked him now, all you had to do was reel him in.

He turned his body towards you – he did it slowly, like every muscle he moved had been calculated beforehand. Then he leaned in closer, his hot breath huffing against your ear.

“Takes one to know one, ain’t that right?”

Under your skin, you buzzed, your heart beating out of your chest at the new proximity. You had to stay cool, play it off, act unbothered. So, you pulled away slightly, and turned your head to meet his eyes.

“What?” he challenged with a raise of an eyebrow, “Ain’t used to people talkin’ back?”

When you didn’t say anything right away, a smug grin coated his lips, “Yeah, I know girls like you.”

“There’s no girls like me,” you argued back, his confidence both pissing you off, and turning you on at the same time.

“Oh, but there are– Spoiled daddy’s girls who ain’t had anyone tellin’ them no their whole life. They do what they want, and play with who they want– I know a brat when I see one.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away, that infuriating smug grin not going anywhere. The worst part was that he was right, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“But you like that don’t you?” you challenged, “I bet you live in some sad house in a sleepy suburban cul-de-sac, go to the same boring job every day, and wish your wife never left you.”

A flash of hurt could be seen across his face as those last words left your lips, and you thought you’d maybe gone too far. A beat of silence passed between you, the buzzing beat of the club music keeping the tune of the tension building.

You were about to apologize when he finally spoke, “You’re a rude one, aren’t ya?”

His voice didn’t sound as hurt as you’d thought, and you realize he was playing your game. You almost had him.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged, hammering the final nail in the coffin.

“That depends on you, sweetheart.”

Outside the club, Joel (the man had finally introduced himself) leaned against the bricks of the alley as you fished a cigarette from your purse. According to your phone, your uber would be there in ten minutes. The fresh air had sobered you up slightly, exchanging the buzzing alcohol in your veins with excitement.

You didn’t know what you were in for.

Over your skin, you felt his gaze roll over you, and you let him look. Let him study your body filling out your sheer, white, almost see-through dress. You didn’t offer him a cigarette; he’d have to ask for it himself, or take it, if he wanted a drag.

“So,” you took a drag of your cigarette, savoring the first tar-y breath, before exhaling through your nose, “where are you taking me?”

Joel shifted his weight against the bricks as his arms crossed over his wide chest. “Whatchu call it? My sad house?” he said, his voice bordering on cold if it wasn’t for the smug smile covering his features.

You gave him a sultry look as you stepped closer, crossing one heeled foot in front of the other, slowly.

“Mmm,” you hummed, as you tilted your head with an uninterested face, “Sounds fucking boring to me.” Your finger climbed up his chest, eyes traveling from his chest to his face. His stern face gave nothing away, as you took another drag of your cigarette and blew the smoke in his face.

Finally, he’d had enough. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, and tightened, before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. You let out an exaggerated huff as your body hit the bricks, your cigarette slipping from your fingers. He pushed himself up against you, and you couldn’t contain the satisfied grin on your face, pleased to have pushed his buttons enough to finally act.

“Oh, I’ll show you boring, brat.”

A rough hand danced up the side of your thigh and under the hem of your dress. Challenging him, you squirmed against the grip of his other hand around your wrist.

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, and he was so close now you felt his breath ghost over your lips. With a twist of your arm, he pinned it behind your back, Joel now completely in control, and a buzz of arousal spread through your body at the thought.

“You listen’ up now, and I’m only gonna say it once: you’re gonna do as I say, when I say it, and no talkin’ back, we clear?” His voice was stern, but his dark brown eyes gave him away; how they’d widened with lust, blown out and dark. Your panties already soaked at the thought of what he had in mind for you tonight.

“Yes,” you said playfully, biting down at your bottom lip through a smile.

“Yes, sir,” he corrected as his rough hand on your thigh slid closer and closer to the seam of your thong. “Good girls who do as they’re told get rewarded, you understand?”

You nodded, sucking in a breath as you felt his fingers brush over your clit lightly. He was testing you now, teasing you, and pushing your buttons. You felt like you were on fire, burning from arousal; it licked up your thighs and flickered bright in your core.

Where was that fucking uber?

“But you ain’t no good girl,” he snickered, sliding his hand past your panties, “teasin’ me– tryna provoke me,” he shook his head, and a slick sound of your arousal could be heard as he worked two thick fingers through your wet folds.  

His finger poked at your hole where it ached for him. The thick tension between you weighed heavy with arousal as Joel leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Imma have to punish you for that, baby, put you in your place.”

A gasp left your lips as he pressed two fingers inside. The stretch stung slightly, but you welcomed the pain, liked it. A satisfied grin blossomed over your face as he started moving his fingers. They felt so good inside of you, so thick, almost like a cock, and the way his palm rubbed against your clit– it gave you just enough stimulation to push you towards the edge of an orgasm.

“Look at you, slut,” his breath was hot as he whispered in your ear, “so desperate to get fucked.”

A strangled moan escaped your throat, and you couldn’t help but grind against his fingers to chase the pleasure he was giving you. The degrading words and humiliation only made you wetter. Joel couldn’t get any more perfect– so far, he'd played his part to the T.

“In your– fuck!” You moaned as the pad of his fingers brushed up against your g-spot. Just a little more now, and he’d have you coming on his fingers.

“Didn’t hear you, sweetheart, y’need to speak up,” he taunted, continuing the pace of his fingers.

“In your d-dreams, old man,” you tried to spit out, but the pleasure he gave you was taking over, making you stumble over your words.

Quickly, Joel withdrew his fingers, sliding them up the front of your cunt, giving your clit a slap, before he backed off completely. You gasped; face pulled tight in a disappointed frown.

“What the fuck!?”

And then he fucking laughed, fucking laughed at you.

“I already told you, sweetheart, only good girls get rewarded.”

He stepped closer again, his hand cupping your cheek while the other pressed the fingers coated in your arousal to your lips. “Clean up your mess, and we’ll see ‘bout that reward.”

Parting your lips, he stuffed his fingers inside your mouth. They tasted of you, a sweet-salty taste. You closed your lips around them, and sucked, letting your tongue tease around his fingers the way you’d tease his cock. “That’s it, good girl,” he grinned, and it sparked a small flame of pride in your chest.

When he was pleased with you, he slipped his fingers from your mouth. He let them glide over your lips, smearing your lipstick and coating your lips in your own saliva as a set of headlights illuminated the street. Then, he patted your cheek, nodding towards what you assumed was your uber as it rolled to a stop in front of you, “Go on, get in the uber.”

In the uber Joel was quiet, ignoring you as were forced to make small talk with the driver (you’d give him a bad review just for that). When you thought the small talk had been torture enough, Joel slid his hand up your thigh, resting his big palm right at the seam of your leg as he looked out the window. If your panties weren’t already soaked from what he’d done to you in the alleyway of the club, then they definitely were now as the anticipation only grew.

Joel’s house wasn’t sad at all. It was quaint, and suburban, but homey. Nice. No expensive designer furniture, but sturdy and of good quality either way. He had no rare art, but a decent amount of family photos and what looked like a child’s drawings. You stopped in the middle of the stairs to admire them. In one of them Joel looked as old as you were now, with a baby in his arms, in another he had his arm around the shoulders of another man who looked a lot like him, just with darker hair. His brother probably, the one getting married. The little baby was a little girl, and she grew up in front of you; birthday parties, first days of school, soccer uniforms. Your eyes landed on a photo of her in a graduation cap with Joel and the other man at her side, grinning wide with a college diploma in her hands. This man wasn’t who you’d thought. He had a family– a daughter your age. The wall of memories squeezed at your heart, made something inside you always kept hidden break forth–

“You comin’?”

Joel waited at the top of the stairs for you, his face pulled into a confused frown. You skipped up the stairs, happy to have left your heels by his door. When you got to the top, you pushed at his chest, “Just looking at your sad things.” With a roll of his eyes, he led you to his bedroom.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, but his voice was distant, the bite from the club was gone.

It felt like the perfect opportunity to play with him.

“No,” you blinked innocently, your eyes wide as you watched him unbutton his green flannel, “you’ll have to make me.”

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh, “I’m serious, sweetheart, I need to talk to you first.”

Talk?

“You can’t get it up, is that it? You’re too old?” you teased but sat down at the bed either way.

“You really are mean, aren’t ya?” His laugh sounded like a surrender. “A man wantin’ to be a gentleman and establish boundaries before he ruins her, and this is what he gets?”

Shaking his head, he walked closer, and cupped your head in his hands. “I plan on bein’ rough with ya, sweetheart, and I think that’s what you want too, isn’t it? Get fucked so hard you can’t think?” You nodded your head in his arms, the velvet bass of his voice going straight to your core.

“Listen’ closely– if I do anythin’ you don’t like, you say ‘red’ and we stop, and if you can’t speak then you pinch me, you hear?”

You nodded again.

“Words, baby, need y’to say it with that pretty voice.” His thumbs brushed over your cheek.

You nodded again, “Yes, sir… if I want you to stop, I say ‘red’, or pinch you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, “Anythin’ else?”

“Um…” Your front teeth caught on your bottom lip, “I’m on birth control– you can come inside me if you want.”

A noise rumbled in Joel’s chest. “Such a naughty girl,” his thumb brushed over the plump of your lips, “letting a stranger come inside her, huh?”

You nodded again, a wicked smile breaking against his thumb before you opened your mouth, and bit down. Not hard, just enough to pull a reaction from him, and you did.

Like a switch, the warm whiskey eyes faded into a deep black. The grip on your chin slid downwards, where it found your neck. He didn’t squeeze, but his grip wasn’t gentle either, holding you in place like a warning.

“You ought to treat me with more respect, brat…” he spat, his thumb digging into the column of your neck, “Apologize for your rude behavior.”

Against his hand, you shook your head to the best of your abilities, his grip tightening with your movement. You wished he’d choke you properly, make your head all fuzzy and empty– filled with nothing except for him.

“No.”

His face turned to stone above you, and you felt a giddiness flutter in your stomach.

 He didn’t like that.  

In one quick motion his hand was ripped from your throat as he stepped away. He didn’t look at you as he sighed, his hands falling to his belt buckle, sharp metal clinking.

Taking advantage of the moment, you admired the man before you. How big and broad he was. How his t-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest, biceps bulging against the woven fabric. You studied his hands as they fiddled with his buckle, thought about how good they’d felt inside you earlier, the pleasurable sting as they’d stretched you out.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered, voice cold.

When you didn’t move, he took matters into his own hands.

“Get. On. Your. Fuckin’. Knees.”

His grip around your wrist was tight, as he pushed you down. The hardwood floor dug into your knees as he manhandled you, sure to bruise tomorrow. He stood his ground in front of you, legs slightly parted as you were now eye level with his inviting bulge. He was big, and you felt your eyes widen. Even hidden away in his jeans you could see it, see the length of his hard cock strain against his thigh – it made your mouth water as you squeezed your thighs together.

“Look me in the eyes,” he told you, and your eyes flicked upwards – obedient for once. “Eyes up here at all times– Don’t you fuckin’ dare look away.”

He made it hard to do as he’d ordered, popping the button on his jeans, and pulling the zipper down. You wanted to see his cock, touch it, feel it inside you. He couldn’t possibly expect you to not look when it was right there.

"Disobedient slut.” 

The slap came quicker than the stolen glance, and your hand came up to graze your cheek on pure instinct. It stung under your palm, like a thousand little knives.

“What did I jus’ say?” He spat out the question, his hand gripping your chin to force eye contact.

“Look away?” you tried, your voice rising an octave.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he sighed, leaning closer, “I ain’t wanna hear any more of your fuckin’ attitude.”

His grip tightened on your chin and your mouth dropped open by itself, “Open your mouth– that’s it… wider, just like that.”

Then he spat, right into your mouth.

You flinched at the suddenness of it, but Joel’s grip on your chin held you still– kept your mouth open, as you felt his spit slide further and further into your throat. You had a feeling you shouldn’t swallow until he told you, so you didn’t, your head pliant in his hand as you let him study you. A wide grin spread across his face as he moved your head from one side to the other, his rough fingers denting into your skin as you waited for your next command.

“Swallow, brat.”

He let go of your face, and you closed your mouth, swallowing down his spit with an audible gulp. “Good girl,” he muttered and stood tall, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

The rough sound of denim against skin filled your ears as he freed himself. You were on your best behavior now, gathering your hands in your lap, sitting pretty for him as you locked eyes with him coquettishly.

“That’s better,” he said, “Actin’ like a proper good girl now,” he praised.

It took everything in you not to look, as he stepped closer.

With a fist tight around his cock, he brought the head to your mouth. He tapped it on your lips, smearing the precum beading at the tip and ruined your lipstick.

You wanted to taste him so badly, but he couldn’t know that. Pinching your lips together, you shook your head with wide coquettish eyes. His eyebrows pinched together in a frown, eyes narrowing at you as he pushed his cock against your lips.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, f’me,” he ordered.

Pretty. He called you pretty, and it was enough for you, you gathered, and stretched your mouth open for him.

“That’s it, wider.”

You twitched in surprise as he slapped the length against your tongue. It was heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixing with your saliva as he rubbed the head over your tongue, in and out, in and out – coating his big cock in your saliva, “just like that, baby, get it nice ‘nd wet.”

Closing your lips around the mushroom tip, you ran your tongue around it in circles, teasing the underside and the slit, before you tipped your head back. His cock bobbed in front of you obscenely, a frown formed on his face again and you knew he was about to tell you off.

Gathering a blob of saliva in your mouth, you spat on his cock instead. A low humming laugh rumbled from Joel’s chest, as he collected your spit and rubbed it in over his shaft in slow strokes. The spit dripped down, down over your front where you felt it darken the fabric of your dress. Subtly, you reached your hands behind your back to pull at the zipper.

“Yeah, that’s right, get those pretty tits out f’me.”

He let you maneuver out of your dress while he stroked his cock slowly in front of your face, and finally, you could get a good look at him. He was bigger than you’d thought from his bulge. Veins lining his thick shaft as you watched the way his fist moved up, massaging the tip gently, and down again in a slow, steady rhythm. At the base unruly curls of dark hair shone in the spit gathering, and you let your eyes wander downward to his balls where they hung heavy.

You wanted to taste them, too.

With your dress discarded on the floor beside you, you sat up slightly, spreading your legs and tucking your calves up to your thighs. Almost naked, safe for the thong splitting your cheeks, you arched your back slightly, making sure he got a good view of your ass.

A groan rumbled in Joel’s chest, and a hand came down on your head, “You want my cock, don’t you, slut?” he spat, slapping his cock on your right cheek, spreading your spit on your skin.

“Do you make all your girls wait this long or is it just me?” you tutted, almost rolling your eyes at him.

“There’s that fuckin’ attitude again.”

Slapping his cock harder against your cheek, he leaned forward letting a blob of spit drip from his own lips, coating both his cock and your face as he rubbed it in with his cock.

It was obscene, degrading, and you’d never been wetter.

In desperation to taste him again, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. The hand he’d used to stroke himself, wrapped around your skull, caging his cock between his hand and your face as he started thrusting against your face, his heavy balls rubbing against your chin with every slow push.

It was messy, sloppy, and wet. He held your head steady with his other hand, while he continued rubbing his cock over your cheek, nose, and forehead. His spit mixed with your own as you lapped at the underside of his cock; trying to taste as much of him as he’d give you.

“You dirty little whore,” he smiled, “You like that don’t you?”

Under him you whimpered, clit pulsing with want as he made you his plaything, did what he wanted with you.

“Yeah,” you moaned unabashedly, licking greedily at the underside of his cock.

At that, he laughed, and the grip on your head loosened as he pulled back. You only had time to take a deep breath before he stuffed his cock down your throat. It was abrupt, and harsh – the hefty length of him making room for himself inside your mouth.

You couldn’t fit him all inside, gagging as the head of him hit the back of your throat. He held you there still, one second, two seconds, three seconds. Your hand found his thigh where you tapped at him, and finally he pulled away.

You gasped for air, your breath wet with spit as small tears pricked at your eyes. His hand landed on top of your head again, grounding you to the moment as he searched your eyes, checking in.

No, you tried to convey, you’re not too rough.

Pleased, his cock bumped against your lips again, and you dropped your mouth open for him again.

“That’s it,” he murmured, thrusting his cock back in your mouth, “let’me fuck that throat open.”

Dropping your jaw, you tried to make room for him in your mouth. It wasn’t easy, your lips stretched wide around the girth of him as you tried to calm yourself, to open your throat for him to abuse. His cock was easily the biggest cock you’d ever sucked, and you told yourself you needed to relax.

He pressed himself deeper, and you let out a whimper. “Work with me, slut, hold still.”

Trying your best to obey, you breathed through your nose, staving off your gag reflex the best you could as the head knocked at the back of your throat. His other hand cupped your chin, keeping your head still between his large hands. A tear rolled down your cheek when he rutted into your mouth, testing the waters.

“Good girl,” he praised, fucking gently into your mouth. Saliva gathered in your mouth, drooling down your chin with each thrust. “Such a fuckin’ mess– Look me in the eye as I fuck your throat.”

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping you steady as you locked eyes with him. It was difficult, tears clouding him in a vignette, but you did as you were told. He studied you closely, tested your boundaries, completely in control.

You gasped for air when he finally pulled back again. A wet string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. A proud smirk coated his lips, while his hand stroked your head in praise.

The small moment of relief passed quickly, and soon his cock was back in your throat, bruising it in a steady rhythm.

“Take that fuckin’ cock all the way down your throat, whore,” he spat, his thrust a little rougher now that he knew you could take it.

He had you at his mercy now as he ruined you. Ruined your throat, ruined your body, ruined you for other men. Tears mixed with snot, which mixed with spit as it ran down your chin, dripping lewdly onto your tits where it made a mess.

Over you, Joel rambled.

“Good fuckin’ slut.”

“Choke on that big fuckin’ cock.”

“You love it don’t you?”

And you did, you loved it. Joel made you feel useful for once in a life – a fucked up thought, but then again you never said you weren’t fucked up. Joel’s words were filthy and dirty, and as humiliating as they were he made you feel wanted.

You just wanted to be wanted.

Another gasp of air filled your lungs as he slipped from your mouth. His grip on your head was tighter now, his cock throbbing in front of you. As much as you wanted him to fuck you, you wouldn’t complain if he came down your throat. He’d given you so much already.

“Fuck,” he whispered and let go of your head.

You took the opportunity to catch your breath, sniffling as you wiped at the snot that clogged up your nose. His hand came down to squeeze at the base of himself, clearly staving off his orgasm.

“What,” you croaked, your voice hoarse after his assault on your throat, “you’re so old you can’t come now?”

His eyes darkened as they locked with yours, and a giddy bouncing feeling twisted in on itself in your tummy. You wanted to see what he’d do to you– how he’d fuck you, and if you’d have to push his buttons to see it, you gladly push the big red button.

His hand wrapped around your bicep, digging into the skin as he dragged you to your feet and pushed you towards the bed.

“Still a fuckin’ brat I see,” he spat, “We can’t have that can we?”

Putting on your best puppy dog eyes, you bit down on your bottom lip. “Who me?” you said innocently.

“Bend over, slut,” he ordered, his voice coated in a tone that said he was fed up with your bullshit. Strong arms turned you around, manhandling you, and pushed your front down on his bed, “’nd spread your fuckin’ legs.”

With a kick to your ankles, he forced your legs open. Tipping your head up, you locked eyes with your reflection in the window, like a camera lens capturing your ruin at Joel’s hand. He hovered over you, his eyes trailing over your naked body, laid out for him to take.

The first smack came quickly, hard, and brutal on your ass cheek. It made you jump, the muscles in your ass clenching as you tried to reel yourself in. Joel’s rough hand soothed over the burn immediately, and you turned your neck to find his eyes.

“I wanna hear an apology from you, brat,” he said calmly, one finger hooking into the lace of your thong.

You shook your head. Stubborn. “No.”

His head fell between his shoulders, while his finger hooked in your thong tightened its grip, and with a hard tug, he ripped it in two.

“Then I’m gonna have to punish ya.” He said it with a deep sigh, like he had no other choice.

You couldn’t hide the excitement that filled you at those words, your cunt now dripping with need. A need for Joel.

With the scrap of your thong now discarded his hand danced over your ass. You tried not to hold your breath, but he drew it out, and you couldn’t help it. The tension in the air so thick, you couldn’t focus.

Smack!

He spanked your other cheek hard, and the tension was released with a whimper. A tickling feeling of pins and needles spread through your cheek.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

They came in quick procession, your hands gripping the sheets for a lifeline as he put you in your place. Moans fell from your lips without abandon, and you felt yourself drip down your legs.

Smack!

“Look how wet you are,” he noticed, running a finger through your seam, “You like it? Only desperate whores like to get spanked.”

He leaned over you, his soft belly (when had he removed his shirt?) pressed against your back, coarse hair tickling your skin, as you felt his hard cock rub up against your sore ass.

“But that’s what you are, ain’t you? A desperate fucking whore.” His breath in your ear, had goosebumps erupt down your spine, and you sobbed out a whine.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered, and pulled away – taking his warmth with him.

Smack!

Tears pushed their way behind your eyes, not because you didn’t like it, but it stung like a motherfucker. Joel wasn’t all brutal, he rubbed your skin between hits, but fuck if it didn’t also hurt with pleasure.

“Say you’re sorry,” he demanded.

Turning around you shook your head, big wide eyes watching him as he spanked you again.

Smack!

“You’re tearing up, little girl– It stings doesn’t it?” he asked, voice laced with fake pity.

You nodded.

“Well, maybe you should be a good girl then– say you’re sorry.”

Smack!

“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, voice cracking.

Finally.

Joel stopped immediately, his hand twisting around your waist to flip you on your back. His eyes danced over your body, almost tenderly but still full of lust. His hand moved up and down your sides, down the thick of your thigh before they gripped your ankles and tugged.

A squeal escaped you as he manhandled you, his large hands cupping your face while he fitted himself between your legs. “Good girl,” he cooed, thumbs stroking your cheeks, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You shook your head in his hands, popping your lip out in an innocent pout.

“No,” he cooed, removing a hand to fit between your bodies.

You gasped when you felt the head of his cock bump your clit, the first real stimulation you’d had since you’d left the ally by the club. Your hips bucked by themselves, chasing the friction of his touch.

“Who owns this cunt?” he asked you, dark eyes staring into yours as he dragged his cock through your soaked folds.

“You do, sir,” you sighed immediately, your whole body aching for him.

A wide wicked grin spread across his face, “Lookit you bein’ such a good girl– finally know your place, huh?”

With no warning, you felt the blunt head of him press at your opening, and then Joel pushed inside you. Your mouth parted in a gasp at the intrusion; eyes glazed over in bliss as you felt yourself get split in two around the girth of his cock. He was so big, filling you up inch by inch, a heavy pressure poking at the deepest part of yourself.

“There you go, baby– you jus’ take it. Take all that cock inside,” he grunted, eyebrows pinched tight.

All you could do was moan as you felt him bottom out inside you, “Shit,” you gasped, “So fuckin’ big.”

“I know, baby, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” he praised, starting to rock his hips into you.

He picked up the pace quickly when he was sure you could take it, splitting you open on his cock as he made you takeit. Under him you could feel yourself float away in the pleasure. His hand came up to wrap around your neck and a big smile spread across your face.

You felt so warm. Joel felt so fucking good.

He reduced you to a puddle, a puddle of pleasure and ecstasy. It was better than any drug you’d ever taken. Better than the first day of summer vacation. Better than anything you’d ever known. The sound of skin against skin faded away into a tranquil rhythm of pleasure. You belonged to him now, lived only for him and the way his cock felt inside you.

“Feel how deep that is?” he asked you, somehow having maneuvered your knees to press into your chest.

You couldn’t do anything other than nod, desperate and whiny. You needed to fucking come. Inside you, his cock bumped into a spot no other man had reached before, and a fluttering feeling coiled itself in your core.

You were so close now.

“Joel,” you gasped, searching for the words as he continued his pace, balls slapping hard against your ass.

“No,” he told you, teeth gritted, “You hold it, slut, you hold it ‘till I give you permission.”

Later, a thought of how he’d had you so close to coming without even a tap at your clit would graze you, but in this moment your thought were only filled with Joel. A hand found his bicep, you needed something to hold on to or you’d burst, and squeezed. Above you Joel’s groans and moans got louder.

“Hold it.”

Tears streamed down your face, as you heaved for breath. You were right there, right on the edge now.

Please, Joel, please, sir, please.

“Come.”

Arching your back off the mattress, you shook as you finally tipped over the edge of bliss. The sounds escaping your throat weren’t your own, they were someone else’s, someone possessed with pleasure.

A “Thank you,” fell from your lips, but you don’t think he heard you. Above you, Joel’s movement became more and more erratic, thrusting himself deeper and deeper before a loud groan vibrated through his chest.

“You take it,” he growled, “take all that fuckin’ cum inside.”

He slammed his hips hard against you, pushing himself as deep as he could inside you, and came with a loud primal groan. His cock twitched within your walls as he emptied himself inside your cunt, the warmth of him filled you up as he painted your walls with cum.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, burying his face in your neck, “That cum feels so good inside, don’t it?” he cooed, and you nodded, your hands tangling in his hair. He pulled back and thrusted inside you again, fucking his cum deeper inside.

He stayed inside you as you both caught your breaths. His weight felt good on you, you were safe, as you floated somewhere between reality and a space you’d never been pushed to before.

And you missed him when he pulled away, sliding his half-hard cock from your fucked out cunt, dragging you with him up the bed. You reached for him, laying your hand open against his sheets, but he didn't see it, eyes mesmerized by his spend dripping out of you. His fingers slid through the mess, pushing his cum back inside as his eyes found yours.

Then something in the air shifted, and whatever had come over you, was gone. His fingers left streaks of wetness down the inside of your thigh as he pulled away. For the first time in your life, you didn’t know what to say.

You were ruined now – he’d ruined you for everyone who wasn’t him.

You sat up, turning your head over your shoulder to watch him, watch how his eyes trailed your body.

“Smoke?” you asked, your voice more unsteady than you’d thought.

Joel shook his head as you slung your feet off the bed to find your purse. He sat up against the pillows resting against his broken bed frame. Your eyes raked over his naked body as you fished a cigarette from your packet; drank in his strong arms, his wide chest and followed the dark hair of his happy trail down his belly to his soft cock between his thighs, still coated in your combined cum. Between your legs you could still feel his thick spend leak out of you.

You brought the cigarette to your lips, and just as you were about to light up Joel’s rough voice spoke, “Out the window,” he ordered with a nod in the direction of the window.

Everything was back to how it was before.

A dramatic huff escaped you, “All right…” you muttered.

You felt too heavy– he’d messed with your head; made you show him the real you. He couldn’t see that. So instead, you put your mask back on, turning to face the window to conceal the mischievous smile threating to spill across your face.

“Daddy.”

Behind you, as you cracked open the window, you heard the bed creak. You played it cool, lighting your cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window.

Joel’s breath teased at the back of your neck and over your bare shoulder, making goosebumps dance down your spine, “Thought I’d fucked the attitude out of ya,” his voice was stern.

“Guess I was wrong.”

part two -> here!

i hope someone liked this? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[lostalioth]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞

→ premise: forgetting your money for your dealer for the first time in a year sounds like a stroke of bad luck. only for you it seems quite the opposite.

→ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, high sex (just eddies high), bribery/sex as payment? (I did intend to write it as actual bribery than idk what happened), nicknames [favorite customer, dirty girl, baby], drugs [mention, use, buying], unprotected sex, sex outside/in the woods

→ a/n: kinktober

Now technically you didn't actually need more weed, you had bought enough last time to last you the week. But god did you really badly wanna see your dealer. Eddie munson, everyone else called him a freak because of a game club he had and the way he dressed. But to you he was just so pretty you couldn’t help it, you wanted to see him again, and you didnt wanna wait til next week. In your haste and dazed state daydreaming about your pretty dealer while getting ready, you space out and forget the most important thing. Your stupid money. It was a rookie mistake that you hadn't made sense the very first time you bought from Eddie. You were so nervous that remembering to bring your money left your head. He was so sweet about it, a small smirk on his face as he handed it to you anyway. “It’s on the house, first time customer and all, hands down the prettiest too” he winked playfully at you and you think you've been smitten with him ever since.

You had found out later on, Eddie never gave anybody weed ‘on the house’ first time buying or not. You were still so lost in your head, excited to see him again that as you sat down at the meeting spot you had yet to realize you left your wallet on your dresser.

“There's my favorite customer” he beamed softly at you “I know I call you that but two deals in one week? That's a record for you” he chuckled lightly, his voice breaking you from your thoughts as he emerged from the woods. You smile coyly at him in embarrassment. Your thighs clench together slightly at the sight of him, he had ditched his usual hellfire t-shirt for a black hoodie, keeping his regular black jeans. His eyes lidded with a slight red hue around them, making you realize you probably interrupted him in the middle of his session. As he sits down at the rundown picnic table he sets his regular lunchbox on the table. The idea of him always keeping his drugs in an old metal lunch box was funny to you, and oddly adorable. But you’d probably find anything he did cute, it was getting harder and harder to hide the massive crush you had on him. The flirty banter back and forth between the two of you only intensifies it tenfold.

“Yeah I ran out a little faster than I thought I would” you cringe a bit at how easily the white lie slipped through your teeth. It felt oddly wrong lying to Eddie. He tilts his head in a way that makes you think he doesn't believe you. Before you can jump to your defense he’s opening the metal box and pulling out the lunch baggie of your regular order from him. You didn't notice the missing wallet until it came time to look for it after he had handed over the little baggie. You barely took a glance at it, tucking it in a pocket of the bag you brought that laid on the ground leaning on the leg of the table.

“Oh fuck…” you cruse under your breathe and start double checking all your pockets though you didnt have many with the outfit you had on. You even check the few the bag had. No wallet to be found.

”Left the money at home huh?” He questioned, cocking an eyebrow at your frantic searching of your clothes. In defeat after remembering it was last sitting on top of your dresser you sigh. “Yeah.. fuck im sorry Ed’s” you pout slightly, you were always good about remembering it. You’d even slip him cute, sometimes flirty little notes with the money for him to find when he’d get home. Back to being lost in your head you don't hear him getting up or coming around to sit next to you on your side of the table.

“You know…” his voice startled you slightly, both the new unfamiliar tone to it as well as its proximity. He was leaning in closer, your body slowly on its own turning in his direction aching to be even closer. ”You could pay me in another way..” his hand was now drifting to rub over and up your thigh, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

You were fine just giving the baggie back you had enough left from the last deal or quickly running home for the money. But understanding quickly what he’s implying, you decided that his payment plan was a more enjoyable idea. You’ve been dying to kiss him, to get even just a little further with him than all the teasing flirty looks and words. Realizing you haven't stopped him, he finally leans in fully, his free hand coming up to grab your chin pulling your mouth against his. The kiss sparking a fire in the pit of your stomach as his lips molded with yours. With a small mumble, the words lost in your lips Eddie pulls you even closer, hands falling to your hips to pull you off the wooden seat and onto his lap.

In the heat of the moment your hips seem to have a mind of their own, absentmindedly rocking against Eddies. He pulls away slowly, leaving you with parted lips and lidded eyes panting softly. You could feel him under you growing harder by the passing second, he wanted you just as badly. Eddie felt like his skin was on fire everywhere your bodies were touching, his hazy and cloudy head from his high causing his senses to be heightened. Your own head still full of your fantasies and daydreams from earlier that you were desperate for something more. Running your hands down his chest they land on his belt and waist band of his jeans.

“Need more Ed’s…” you whine, your pupils nearly just as dilated and blown as his, though for different reasons.

“Oh fuck it” he grunts and starts frantically undoing his belt buckle and the button to his jeans. Helping him along you lift your body off him, hovering still as you help him pull his pants halfway down his thighs.

You were smart enough to wear a skirt though this was the last thing you expected to happen. You just knew Eddie loved peaking at your ass as you walked away, so you always wore them when it was warm enough to meet up with him.

Pulling the bottom of his hoodie up a bit and pushing down his boxers after his jeans, he finally frees his cock and god it was just as pretty as you imagined. A happy trail leading down to it, the tip pink and leaking, a patch of black hair nestled at the base. Thoughts of moments like this fueled more than a few nights with your hands between your thighs. His hands return to your body, hiking your skirt up your hips he gawks at your soaked panties. “Look at my favorite customer being such a dirty girl, mighta thought you planned this all out if I didn't know any better” he groans, running his thumb through your slick folds, over your underwear. “Wore a tiny little skirt and the prettiest panties for me, and look at em’ all soaked and ruined already” he chuckled and leaned in closer, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes fixed on yours. “I've barely touched you baby” he coos and rubs small circles on your clit through the fabric.

“Need you Eddie, please~” you huff out and gasp in pleasure at the little amount of attention he was giving your throbbing bundle of nerves. His hands on your body were giving you a better high than any drugs you had ever bought off him before, and were far more addictive. “Tell me dirty girl, what exactly does my favorite customer need huh? I always aim to please” his voice has a sweet yet taunting edge to it, his thumb not stopping its teasing circles. His head shifts and his lips are ghosting over your own now. “Especially you…” he whispers as though it was a secret and there were other people around, though you both knew there wasn't anybody for miles in every direction.

“I need you inside me Ed’s, need ya’ to fuck me so bad please” you whine and plead against his mouth as you try leaning forward to feel his kiss again. You let out a sharp gasp before you even make it to press your lips to his again. While you were begging, Eddie had pulled your panties to the side and with a sharp thrust he pushed all the way in to the hilt.

“Holy fuck” he hissed through his teeth as your welcoming heat consumed his cock, your walls already squeezing around him. He sets his hands back up on your hips, trying to hold you still to give himself a second to calm down. It was pathetic but he knew he wasn’t gonna last that long, especially not with how long he's wanted this coupled with all his nerves on high alert from the weed in his system that wasn't wearing off any time soon. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you finally lean all the way forward and kiss him frantically and deeply. Hips rocking against his, the thick vein running along the side of his shaft dragging along your walls as your hips rise and drop. Teeth clashing together as you make out, tongues sliding around and fighting for dominance. Your one hand travels up threading your fingers through his mess of hair.

“Just like that baby” he groans in the kiss, fingers digging into your hips as he does his best to hold out. You already weren't all that far behind him, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you tightening that knot in the pit of your stomach faster and faster.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, his eyes squeezed shut as his head falls back when your hand comes down and nails scratch over his exposed lower stomach.

“Fuck why havent we been doin’ this every time you buy from me huh?, feel s’good” he grunts and thrusts his hips up to meet yours as you bounce down. Your ass bouncing off his thighs making an obscene and filthy slapping noise that drowns out the melodic sounds of nature. “Screw money baby, just want this pussy as payment instead. Want it all the time god~” he rambled off as you continued riding him, your hips moving fast and frenziedly chasing your high.

“Gonna- fuck im gonna cum Ed’s, baby shit” you let out a wanton moan when he starts abusing your clit with his thumb, rubbing circles like before though this time with no barrier. “Cum baby, cum on this dick dirty girl come on” he eggs you on as he speeds up his thumb making your legs shake slightly and the bouncing and rocking of your hips falter.

With a moan loud enough you swore you scared birds away, the knot in your stomach snaps and your climax crashes over you. Your cunt squeezes Eddie's cock and as he watches your body shake as you cum, his own climax hits him like a truck. Thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside you.

After a few moments pass, letting the two of you catch your breaths and your high’s wash over you. Eddie speaks up. “You know, I was only intending the different payment to be a kiss” he chuckles softly, his cheeks flushed. Your eyes snap up to his, your mouth agape. “I- well” you try speaking but he cuts you off with a belly laugh. “Baby it's all good, this was much better payment. Pay me like this from now on okay?” He lowered his voice again, the softness making your body turn to mush in his arms that he wraps around you.

“And uh hey could you pull the baggie i gave you out again, there's something you missed about it” he sounded nervous all of a sudden. You give him a questioning look before leaning over a bit and pulling it out of your bag that laid on the ground.

As you pulled it out you noticed writing that you hadn't before on it. The bag read ‘wanna go out on a date with me?” In Eddie's chicken scratch version of a handwriting.

A big smile spreads on your face and you look back up at him. “Well?” He questions, a nervous edge to his voice still, did he really think you'd say no? “Eddie, what do you think the answer is” you motion down with your eyes to where your bodies are still connected, his limp cock still buried inside you twitches a bit.

“So it's a yes?” He smiles softly and leans up ready to kiss you once again, he never wants to stop now that he gets to. You give him a nod and chuckle softly.

→ a/n: yes this is the cliché ‘you can pay me another way’ typa fic lol. i just really liked the idea, the name is also a play on quid pro quo if you didnt get that.