#she has some of the best facial expressions
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cameronsprincess · 18 hours ago
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reader being a spoiled “good girl” kook who doesn’t give rafe the time of day with his reputation and treats jj like shit when he does work around her house for her dad. at least until jj’s snap story updates with her getting fucked from behind, the hand gripping her hip hard enough to bruise having that unmistakable signet ring on it and jj’s moans being heard from behind the camera as his cum starts to land on her tear stained face 😌
OH. this has been rotting since the end of july and i’m sooo sorry, i hope you see this sweet nonnie🥺🩷
CW: smut! 18+ only! threesome, jj posts it on his snap story, piv sex, male receiving oral, facial, praise and degrading. rafe ‘n jj are kinda fucked up for this but oh well.
requests | deadly duo masterlist
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You’d always been known as the “good girl” on the island. You never got into any trouble, you steered clear of parties, and you definitely didn’t hang out with people who were constantly getting themselves into some shit.
Rafe Cameron was nothing if not persistent, he’d always tried to hit you up, asking what you were doing, wanting you to hang out with him, but you never gave him the time of day, why would you? He was not a good guy, and everyone knew it.
The same goes for JJ Maybank, the well known, most attractive Pogue on the island. You saw him a lot, seeing as your father had hired him to do work around your house a lot. JJ was also quite persistent, always trying to make you crack, bend your own rules, but your walls you’d spent years building up had you treating him like the no-good Pogue he was.
You treated both men pretty unfairly, at least, that’s what the public saw. No one knew that you were secretly a filthy slut behind closed doors for both the Kook and Pogue kings of Kildare Island.
“That’s it, baby, takin’ Rafe’s cock so fuckin’ good aren’t you? That tight little cunt loves to be pounded from behind doesn’t she?”
JJ’s words have your pussy clenching tightly around Rafe’s thick length, pulling a low groan from him. Your bloodshot eyes look up, finding JJ’s ocean-blues, his phone’s camera pointed right down at you.
Wanting to give JJ something good to watch later, you push your head down further, taking his entire length down your throat, eyes never leaving his. JJ groans, his free hand making its way to the back of your head, fingers tightly gripping at the messy, tangled locks. He holds your head down, forcing you to suck in breaths through your nose the best you can.
He slightly tilts his phone up, capturing only Rafe’s toned abdomen and the way his hands were tightly gripping at your hips. His fingers dig into your skin so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises later, but you’re too fucked out to care. You loved that they were your dirty little secret, loved the way they took turns fucking your throat, pussy and even sometimes your ass. They knew you had a reputation to uphold though, and they didn’t seem to mind the way you treated them in public, so long as they could fuck you like this whenever they wanted, you could do as you pleased in front of everyone else.
“Fuck, Y/N, your pussy feels so goddamn good, gripping my cock like she was fuckin’ made f’me.” Rafe rasps, his thrusts becoming sloppier.
JJ releases your head, allowing you to pull off of him and suck in a much needed breath of air. More tears slip past your lower lashes, making JJ breathe out a dark laugh.
“God, you look so fuckin’ pathetic, cryin’ like a fuckin’ baby while Rafe fucks that sweet cunt and I take this sweet mouth. Go on, suck my cock, princess, it’s aching for you.”
Rafe grunts, his fingers digging into your hips harder as he uses them to pull you back onto his cock, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts.
You lower your head, tongue darting out and softly swirling around the swollen, leaking head of JJ’s cock. He groans, lowering his phone back down to capture you sucking him off again.
“Eyes on the camera, baby. Don’t wanna miss a second of your facial expressions while my cock is down your throat and Rafe fucks you from the back.”
You quickly obey, forcing your eyes to look up and into the camera of JJ’s phone. You begin bobbing your head up and down his length, sucking and licking every last inch of him until you feel his cock pulse inside your mouth.
Rafe groans, slamming his hips forward one final time before his warm, sticky load is filling your pussy. “Fuuuuuck, baby, gonna have you leaking my cum for the rest of the day.” Rafe groans, holding onto your hips as he holds your ass flush against his groin as he rides out his high.
JJ isn’t too far behind Rafe, quickly pulling himself from your mouth and jerking his cock. A low, raspy groan fills the air as his cock twitches, his warm, sticky cum landing on your face and tits. JJ slowly removes his hand from his softening dick, his phone coming down and right in your face as he records the little facial he gave you.
“That’s it, baby. Gotta show everyone whose fucking girl you are, don’t we?”
In your euphoric, fucked out haze, you don’t catch JJ’s words… You just softly nod your head, saying “Yeah… Your girl.”
He and Rafe share a look, laughing lightly between one another before they both remove themselves from your bed, quickly dressing and helping clean you up. JJ tucks you into your bed after they have you completely cleaned up, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and whispering, “Maybe this’ll teach you to be nicer to us in public, baby.”
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lafaiette · 9 days ago
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Gods I feel you I'm only 10 hours in after having received the game as a gift and I REALLY try to like it but it just ... doesn't feel like Dragon Age. Characters know stuff they shouldn't know about, the game keeps talking down to me, nothing I did in the previous games mattered, the tone is completely different, the mature storytelling of the previous games seems to be missing so far & what I heard so far of how the lore and the characters from previous games have been handled is honestly the worst part and breaks my heart. idk even if i wanna finish the game at this point anymore, I'm just kinda ... sad.
I'm so sad and disappointed, too, I remember our conversations, fics, and headcanons about DA! We were so excited and happy, because Inquisition, DA2, and DAO were genuinely well-made and aimed at pleasing the fans, despite their faults.
DATV is a good action game, no doubt about that. The combat is fun, there is a lot to explore and discover, and many locations are beautiful, even though some are terrible to navigate (Dock Town's structure makes no sense). But that's it - it's a good action game with the name "Dragon Age" pasted on it. It doesn't feel like it's part of the series, it constantly treats the player like an idiot, some references to past games and characters are literally hidden in the brief descriptions of the mementos, and there is even a Glossary to make sure the new players don't get frustrated.
Everything is safe and aseptic, cleaned of every deep piece of lore that could have scared new fans into buying or continuing the game. Even the banters lack the depth of the previous games.
A good game company should lure new players in not by rejecting their past entries, but by making them look even more interesting with their sequels.
Bioware wasn't afraid of offering piece of lore after piece of lore in Inquisition - it was a game set in a precise moment, whose prologue was directly tied to the events of the previous game, and new players had to accept this if they decided to buy it and play it. If they liked that premise, all that information and those details, then they were more than welcome - they were encouraged! - to go back, try the older games, and see how it had all started. It was a game made for the fans the company had already managed to win over, not for possible fans who may or may not bring new money in.
In DATV the new players can jump right in after quickly learning who Solas is and what he's trying to do, and old fans are left with an empty shell, with minor references that are supposed to make us feel happy and accomplished peppered here and there, while all our past choices and our favorite characters are forgotten or brought back with a terrible case of amnesia. It's lazy, infuriating, and very sad, and it smells of reboot, because the new devs probably realized they couldn't keep up with the amount of lore and choices the series contain, and they needed to start anew.
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absfawn · 5 months ago
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bestfriend!abby who begrudgingly slaps on a fake smile every time you mention a woman you’ve gone on a random date with. she was always happy for you, or shown you in some way that she is happy and proud of you for stepping out your comfort zone and meeting new people, but deep down, it makes her more depressed the longer she thinks about it. each time you look her in the eye, describe how your date went and how happy you were that someone shared the same interests and loves as you, abby hummed and nodded along. too busy and focused on that smile of yours, the way you laugh quietly at something you’ve said, not that she pays attention to your words, more your facial expressions. she hates all of it. she loves to see you happy, but not with someone who isn’t her. she’s been in love with you since you both bought a shared apartment across from campus. she’s tired of not being the one to take you on a date. to make you laugh. to make you smile.
bestfriend!abby that same night, who feels completely pathetic when she finds herself in her bedroom, door locked, far away from you and music slightly louder than usual, with her hand down her pyjama shorts and head tilted back with parted lips and soft breaths ripping through her throat. she hates that this is what you do to her and have no idea. reducing her to a mess, touching herself when you’ve gone to bed. hates to feel so pathetic that she can’t go to bed without sinking her fingers into her cunt each night, chanting your name under her breath and pleading for you to do something, anything that can give her the release she wants oh so badly.
your name falls from her lips like a shared secret, the slick sounds her cunt was making had her ears ringing loudly and face flushed, almost burning. blonde hair creating a halo beneath her head and she whimpers at the mere thought of her fingers being replaced by yours when she curls them deep inside her cunt. how yours would feel hitting that spot that has her toes curling, back arching and eyes rolling. it makes her feel hotter, sinking more into the mattress.
“fuck, need you so bad” she whimpered out, screwing her eyes shut tightly. “need your fingers so bad, baby” her voice quivers, tears slowly welling up in her baby blue eyes the faster she fucks her fingers into her sopping pussy. her lips part and her moans slowly increase in volume. not scared in the slightest if she gets caught. 
her pussy flutters, tightens around her fingers and abby’s thighs tremble as her breath comes out in slow stutters, eyebrows furrowing and back arching more off the mattress when that familiar feeling pools in her lower stomach. “need to cum” is all she can choke out, free hand vice like gripping the sheet below her. “please let me cum for you, baby, please”
your name continues to fall from her lips so effortlessly, like all she could ever speak was your name, nothing else. she’s got her fingers so deep, still wishing and praying they were yours, against her g-spot, and it feels suddenly too late to think or do anything else when all she can get out is another chant of pleads mixed with your name as she gushes all over her fingers with a string of whimpers.
it’s different this time, it doesn’t stop after a few moments. the warm hot liquid continues soaking her sheets as her body convulses. all she sees is blindly, white steaming pleasure and your beautiful face as she squirts for the first time, ever.
her chest rises up and down quickly, her pants are heavy as she flutters her eyes open minutes later. crimson blush coating her face more once the final realisation kicks in that the thought of you alone had made her a mess that she squirted and made a complete mess in her bed. you didn’t even do anything and she’s fucked. fucked out in so many ways. 
all abby craves is to be fucked out by you instead.
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massive thank you to @andersonfilms and her juicy brain for helping me with this, and giving me the best and yummiest ideas. ily <3
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peachpitfics · 6 months ago
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Don't Blame Me
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.
Length: 3.2k
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.
Bridgerton master list (tag list)
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Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.
“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.
“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.
Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.
Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.
“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.
“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.
In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else. 
When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.
“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.
“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.
“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.
“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.
“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.
With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.
The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.
“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?
“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.
Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.
The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.
“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.
“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.
Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.
“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.
“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.
“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.
Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.
His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.
His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.
It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.
“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.
“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.
“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.
~
Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.
Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.
The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.
“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.
“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.
Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.
Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.
Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.
“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.
“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.
“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.
“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.
Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.
“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.
“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.
You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.
“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.
Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.
Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.
“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.
“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.
His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.
“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.
“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.
“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.
There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.
Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.
“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.
Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.
You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.
“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.
The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.
“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.
You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.
The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.
“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.
As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.
Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.
“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.
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pucksandpower · 5 months ago
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So Good to Her
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: the public reacts to the TikTok challenge you and Charles inadvertently participated in
Read So Good to Me (about the TikTok challenge) here
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The TikTok that the British influencer posted of his encounter with you and your incredibly generous boyfriend quickly goes viral, racking up millions of views, likes, and comments within mere hours.
It spreads like wildfire across social media platforms, with people sharing it on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook — even LinkedIn of all places. Everyone marvels at this mystery woman with the boyfriend of all boyfriends who casually sent her €10,000 just to buy a pair of shoes.
In a cozy London flat, a group of university students and diehard Charles fans gather around a laptop, eyes wide as they watch the now-viral video for the umpteenth time.
“I can’t believe Charles has a secret girlfriend!” Megan, a petite blonde wearing a red Ferrari cap, exclaims. “How did we not know about this? We follow his every move!”
Her best friend Ethan nods in agreement, his brow furrowed. “Seriously, who is this girl? She’s drop dead gorgeous and apparently Charles is just casually sending her 10 grand for shopping sprees?”
“Okay but like, goals though,” Lexi chimes in dreamily, clutching a Charles Leclerc poster to her chest. “Imagine having a boyfriend who’s not only mega hot and talented but also spoils you rotten. She’s living the dream.”
Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, he can’t just throw money around like that. I bet this whole thing was staged for clout.”
Megan shoots him a withering glare. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would be the point? Charles is already one of the most popular drivers on the grid, he doesn’t need to pull PR stunts for attention.”
“Plus did you see the way he talked to her on the phone?” Lexi points out, rewinding the video. “That was not acting, that was real love and affection in his voice. I’m so soft for them already, ugh.”
The trio falls silent as they watch the clip again, zeroing in on every little detail and facial expression from both Charles’ mystery girlfriend and the clearly shocked TikToker.
Ethan chuckles and shakes his head. “I still can’t get over her reaction though. Just a guy who loves driving fast cars — I mean, the cheek! She really knows how to keep a secret, gotta give her that.”
“An icon, honestly,” Megan declares. “The fact that she told him to donate the money to an animal shelter too ... okay, I can’t even be mad. She seems like a sweet person.”
Lexi sighs happily, starry-eyed. “They’re literally a power couple. The sheer confidence and BDE of it all. I’m so jealous but also like, rooting for them? We have to find out who this girl is!”
As if on cue, Megan’s phone pings with a Twitter notification. Her eyes widen as she swipes to view it. “Guys. GUYS. The TikToker just confirmed her first name is Y/N and posted another video with a few more details about her!”
“Well don’t just sit there, play it!” Ethan demands, practically launching himself across the couch to peer over Megan’s shoulder at her phone screen. Lexi scrambles to join them, bouncing with anticipation.
In the new clip, the TikToker is grinning excitedly at the camera, an extra bounce in his step as he walks along the same Monaco street where he first approached you.
“Right, so I’m sure by now you’ve all seen my video with Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend go absolutely mental viral,” he begins, running a hand through his artfully tousled hair. “Which, can I just say — thank you so much for the insane support and love, you lot are the best fans ever.”
“Get to the point,” Ethan mutters under his breath, earning a sharp “Shh!” from both girls.
“Anyway,” the TikToker continues. “After she left and I finally picked my jaw up off the floor, I did some digging. I headed to that little boutique she mentioned in the call with Charles, just to see if she actually went in and bought anything. Thought maybe if I asked the staff, they might be able to give me some more info, you know?”
Megan, Ethan, and Lexi all subconsciously lean closer to the small phone screen, hanging on to his every word.
“So get this — not only did she buy the shoes, she apparently also went next door and purchased, and I quote, a frankly alarming amount of lingerie. The cashier said she dropped over 5 grand like it was nothing!”
Lexi lets out a scandalized gasp as Ethan chokes on his sip of Red Bull. Megan just shakes her head in wonderment. “The actual legend,” she murmurs reverently.
The TikToker laughs and waggles his eyebrows suggestively at the camera. “I don’t know about you lot, but I’m definitely sensing some spicy thank you for the shopping money activities were planned for a certain Ferrari driver, if you know what I mean. Get in there, Charles!”
“Gross, I so did not need that visual,” Ethan grumbles, but there’s a slight smirk playing on his lips all the same.
“Oh shut up, as if you wouldn’t do the exact same if you were dating Charles,” Lexi retorts with a playful shove to his shoulder.
“ANYWAY,” the TikToker presses on, “I did manage to squeeze a few more details out of the lovely shop girl. Apparently Charles’ girlfriend is named Y/N, no last name given for privacy reasons. But she’s a regular customer and, I quote, an absolute sweetheart who only ever has glowing things to say about her man. So there you have it, folks — Y/N and Charles are the real deal and we’re all just peasants watching a fairytale unfold.”
Megan sighs dreamily as the video ends. “Y/N and Charles,” she repeats to herself, already typing the names into her social media search bars. “God, even their names sound good together. I have to find out everything about her.”
“Dibs on making their ship name hashtag go viral,” Lexi calls out, already furiously typing away on her own phone.
Ethan snorts and rolls his eyes affectionately at his friends, but there’s no denying the small, reluctantly impressed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth too. “I give it two days before they’re papped together on some glamorous date night now that the secret’s out. Hope she’s ready for the attention dating an F1 star brings.”
“With that level of confidence and the way Charles clearly adores her? I think our girl Y/N will handle the spotlight just fine,” Megan says confidently.
Lexi nods in firm agreement. “Yep, a true queen. Charles better lock that down and wife her up real quick before one of us tries to snatch her for ourselves!”
***
In a cozy apartment not far from the very street where you had your memorable encounter with the TikToker, three young women huddle around a laptop screen, eyes wide and jaws slack as they watch the now viral video for the umpteenth time.
“I can’t believe this,” mutters Isabelle, a pretty brunette with an impressively encyclopedic knowledge of Formula 1 stats. “Charles has a girlfriend? Since when?”
“And he just sent her €10,000 like it was nothing!” Exclaims Maia, nervously twirling a strand of her platinum blonde hair. “I mean, I know he’s loaded but holy shit, the way he spoils her ...”
The third girl, Claire, bites her lip, a pensive look on her delicate features. “Did you hear what she said at the end though? Just a guy who loves driving fast cars. She was obviously talking about Charles. But the way she said it, all mysterious and like it was some inside joke ... I don’t know, it just rubs me the wrong way.”
Isabelle scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please, she was totally gloating. Didn’t even have the decency to act a little humble about the fact that THE Charles Leclerc is apparently head over heels for her.”
“Exactly!” Maia chimes in, nodding vigorously. “Like okay, congrats, you bagged a hot, rich, famous race car driver. No need to rub it in the rest of our faces.”
Claire wrinkles her nose. “I just don’t get the vibe that she actually cares about him, you know? I mean, who asks their boyfriend to send them money in the middle of the day for some stupid shoes? While he’s working? She seems like such a gold digger.”
“Ugh, you’re so right,” Isabelle agrees, her lips curling in distaste. “Poor Charles is probably blind to it because he’s so gone for her. He didn’t even hesitate to transfer that money!”
Maia sighs dramatically and falls back on the bed. “God, it’s so unfair. Why can’t I find a man who’s that generous and totally obsessed with me? I’d treat him so much better than she does, you can already tell.”
Claire hums and taps her chin thoughtfully. “You know what, I think this smells fishy. How do we even know she’s actually Charles’ girlfriend? For all we know, she could have paid some guy who sounds like him to play along for a TikTok clout.”
Isabelle’s eyes narrow as she considers this possibility. “That’s true ... I haven’t come across any photos of them together or anything. Why has no one ever seen her before if they’re supposedly so in love?”
“Exactly!” Claire exclaims, growing more animated. “I’ve been a Charles fan for years and I’ve never seen or heard anything about a girlfriend. If they’re really dating, there’s no way it wouldn’t have come out before now.”
Maia sits up, suddenly energized by this new conspiracy theory. “Oh my god, you’re right! She’s probably just some wannabe influencer trying to get famous by pretending to be with Charles. That’s so pathetic.”
Isabelle nods slowly, a determined glint in her eye. “You know what? We should do some digging. Try to find out who this girl really is and expose her for the fraud she clearly is. Charles and the world deserve to know the truth.”
“Yesss, I’m so down for an investigation!” Maia says gleefully. “Imagine if we’re the ones who reveal that this whole thing is fake. We’d be doing Charles a huge favor.”
Claire is already pulling up Instagram and Twitter on her phone. “Let’s start by going through the comments on that TikTok and seeing if anyone has identified her or posted any receipts. There have to be some clues somewhere.”
The girls spend the next few hours poring over social media, searching for any scrap of information they can find about the mystery woman who has supposedly captured Charles Leclerc’s heart. They work themselves into a frenzy, convincing each other more and more that you can’t possibly be Charles’ real girlfriend. In their minds, you’re clearly just an opportunistic clout chaser looking for your 15 minutes of fame.
“God, I hope Charles sees through her act soon,” Isabelle says for the hundredth time, shaking her head. “He’s too good for some two-bit gold digger who’s just using him.”
“We’ll make sure he finds out who she really is,” Claire assures her firmly. “And then he’ll have no choice but to dump her lying ass.”
Maia sighs wistfully, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “Do you think once he’s single again, I might actually have a chance? Like, if I run into him at a race one day and strike up a conversation, maybe he’ll realize I’m the girl he’s meant to be with ...”
“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Claire says with a laugh. “First step is taking down this fraud of a girlfriend. Then we can daydream about being Mrs. Leclerc.”
The girls giggle and go back to their social media sleuthing with renewed determination. They’ve decided you’re public enemy number one and they won’t rest until they’ve exposed you for the fake, money-hungry, clout-chasing liar they’re certain you must be. In their eyes, they’re crusaders for truth, fighting to save their beloved Charles from your clutches.
What they don’t realize, of course, is just how very real and very deep Charles’ feelings for you actually are ... and that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, Internet conspiracy theories be damned.
***
In a dimly lit basement somewhere in Italy, a group of die-hard Charles Leclerc fans huddle around a computer screen, their jaws dropping as they watch the video for the umpteenth time.
“Guys, are you seeing this shit?” Enzo, the self-appointed leader of the group, asks incredulously. “Who the hell is this girl and how did she bag Charles freakin’ Leclerc?”
“Dude, we don’t even know for sure that it’s actually Charles,” Giovanni points out skeptically. “She never said his name. It could be some other rich dude with a fast car.”
Enzo scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, who else could it be? €10,000 like it’s nothing, is it possible that Leclerc has a secret girlfriend we don’t know about all this time? A guy who likes driving fast cars? It’s obviously Charles! Our boy is LOADED and that’s exactly how he’d spoil his girl.”
Luca nods in agreement, a dreamy expression on his face. “God, can you imagine being with Charles though? Having him call you all those cute pet names and just showering you with love and gifts? I’d fucking die.”
“Yeah, she has to be the luckiest woman on the planet,” Enzo sighs wistfully. “I mean, I’m straight, but even I’d let Charles ruin me, you know what I’m saying?”
The other guys murmur and nod in emphatic agreement, all of them momentarily lost in a fantasy of being Charles Leclerc’s pampered significant other.
“Okay but like, how is this even fair?” Giovanni gripes, breaking the spell. “The rest of us mere mortals are out here busting our asses on Tinder and Hinge, praying a decent girl will swipe right, and Charles just gets to date a literal goddess who is probably a model?”
“Life isn’t fair, Gio,” Enzo says solemnly. “Charles is on a completely different level. He could have any woman he wants and they’d all say yes before he even finished asking. The rules don’t apply to a guy like that.”
Luca suddenly sits up straight, his eyes widening with realization. “Holy shit, guys. Do you know what this means? If Charles is taken, that’s one less F1 driver on the market for all those grid girl groupies to throw themselves at! Maybe the rest of us actually have a chance now!”
Giovanni snorts derisively. “Yeah, you wish. Those chicks are still gonna be busy trying to get with Sainz or Verstappen or Norris. They’re not gonna settle for some nobody Ferrari fan. Let’s be real.”
“Wow, way to kill the vibe, Debbie Downer,” Luca mutters. He turns back to the computer and hits replay on the video, watching enviously as the TikToker clearly shows the €10,000 bank transfer on your phone. “Seriously though, how is this chick not freaking the fuck out? If Charles Leclerc randomly sent me 10 grand I’d be screaming and probably pass out.”
“She’s probably used to it,” Enzo says with a shrug. “I bet this is like, a regular Tuesday for her. Just casually strolling around Monaco, stopping into designer stores whenever she feels like it, Charles’ black credit card weighing down her Hermès purse. The bougiest of WAG lives.”
“God, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with her for just one day,” Giovanni says longingly. “Can you imagine getting to wake up next to Charles every morning? Having him make you breakfast and give you forehead kisses and tell you how much he loves you in that sexy accent?”
“Okay, now you’re just torturing yourself, bro,” Luca laughs. “You’ll be lucky if you can get a Tinder match to agree to split the bill at McDonalds.”
“Why you gotta bring me back to my sad reality like that?” Giovanni groans, chucking a throw pillow at Luca’s head. “Let me live vicariously through Charles’ bougie mystery girlfriend for a little while longer, damn.”
Enzo sighs and leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “You know what the craziest part of all this is? The fact that Charles managed to keep a whole ass girlfriend hidden from the world. Like, the media has been speculating about his love life forever and no one had a clue he was actually in a serious relationship. That man moves in silence like a ninja.”
“Yeah, and did you see how he just casually threw out that he loves her?” Luca gushes. “He was all I love spoiling you, you deserve the world. My dude is head over heels for this girl and I am LIVING for it.”
“Ugh, why can’t I find a man like that?” Giovanni whines dramatically. “All I want is a guy who will write me cute Instagram captions in three languages and buy out the Gucci store for me but I guess that’s too much to ask!”
“Maybe if you stanned Charles harder, the universe would reward you,” Enzo snarks. “Start leaving thirsty comments on his shirtless pics, see if that manifests your dream F1 boyfriend.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t already do that,” Giovanni retorts with a smirk. “How else do you think Oscar Piastri ended up in my DMs last night?”
“Wait, WHAT?” Luca and Enzo exclaim in unison, whipping their heads around to gape at their friend.
Giovanni bursts out laughing at their shocked faces. “I’m just kidding, jeez! You think I’d be sitting here listening to you losers if Oscar freaking Piastri actually messaged me? Puh-lease.”
“Man, don’t even joke about that,” Enzo grumbles, clutching at his heart. “You really had me going there for a sec.”
Luca huffs and slouches down in his seat. “Can we get back to being jealous of Charles’ sugar baby girlfriend now? I was enjoying that more than whatever the hell this conversation turned into.”
“She’s not his sugar baby!” Enzo argues. “They’re clearly in love! Did we watch the same video? The way he talked to her was mad cute. That’s his GIRL girl.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Luca concedes, holding his hands up in apology. “Charles might spoil her but he obviously adores her for more than just her looks. That’s the real relationship goals right there.”
“Imagine being so secure in your love that you can just ball out on your partner like that and know it’s only going to make them love you more,” Giovanni muses. “Cannot relate.”
Enzo nods sagely. “Charles is just built different, man. In more ways than one.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Luca agrees. “So, are we watching this video another 50 times or are we moving on to the Grill the Grid compilation I found of all of Charles’ most adorably flustered moments?”
Enzo grins maniacally and reaches for the mouse. “Oh, you know we’re watching the hell out of this absolute gift again. And then we’re gonna spend the next three hours cyberstalking Charles and seeing if we can find any other crumbs about who this legendary mystery woman is. For research purposes.”
“This is the most productive thing we’ve done in months and I’m not even ashamed,” Giovanni declares, cracking his knuckles in preparation for the intense social media deep dive they’re about to undertake.
***
In a crowded sports bar in Dublin, a group of die-hard Ferrari fans gather to watch the latest race. But today, there’s another bit of F1-related content that has their attention. They huddle around a phone, repeatedly watching the now-infamous TikTok video.
“Can you believe it? €10,000 just like that!” Exclaims James, a tall, lanky guy with a mop of curly hair. “I mean, I knew Charles was loaded but damn ...”
“Forget the money, did you see his girlfriend?” Tom, a stocky redhead, chimes in. “Absolutely stunning. Like, how does a race car driver land a girl like that?”
Mark, a quieter guy with glasses, rolls his eyes. “Uh, maybe because he’s Charles freaking Leclerc? The man’s a beast on the track and has the face of a Greek god. Girls probably throw themselves at him left and right.”
The guys all mutter in begrudging agreement, a note of envy coloring their voices. On screen, the video replays yet again, showing you confidently calling up your boyfriend and securing the small fortune without batting an eye.
“God, what I wouldn’t give to have a woman look at me the way she probably looks at Leclerc,” Tom sighs wistfully.
“In your dreams, mate,” James scoffs. “Girls like that are way out of our league. We can’t compete with a Ferrari paycheck and Monaco real estate.”
“Still doesn’t seem fair though,” grumbles Mark. “The dude’s already got it all — talent, fame, money. Leave some for the rest of us!”
On screen, the video reaches the part where you coolly inform the gobsmacked TikToker that you don’t need his measly €2,000 and he should donate it to an animal shelter instead. The guys let out low whistles, clearly impressed by your classy move.
“See, that right there, that’s what separates the Monegasque princess types from regular girls,” says James with an air of authority. “We would’ve taken the cash in a heartbeat.”
“Speak for yourself, I’m a man of principle,” Tom jokes, puffing out his chest exaggeratedly. The others snort and shove him playfully.
As the video ends, the guys sit back, each lost in their own wistful imaginings of what it must be like to be Charles Leclerc. To have the money, success, and effortless charm to win over a girl like you.
Mark is the first to break the contemplative silence. “Maybe we’re looking at this all wrong,” he muses thoughtfully. “I mean yeah, Charles is a lucky bastard, no doubt. But that girl, she seems like a real catch too. Like the kind of person who’d keep you humble and grounded, even when you’re a superstar athlete with the world at your feet.”
The others consider this, nodding slowly. “Fair point,” concedes Tom. “Behind every great man and all that jazz. Leclerc may have his millions but he still needs someone to call him out on his BS from time to time.”
“Exactly,” agrees Mark. “And did you hear the way he spoke to her on the phone? The dude’s completely smitten. He may have all the money and fame, but I bet she’s the real prize in his eyes.”
“Alright, alright, settle down Dr. Phil,” James interjects with a good-natured eye roll. “You gonna start writing romance novels in your spare time now? Maybe they’ll make a movie — The Tifosi Who Loved Me: A Charles Leclerc Story.”
The guys all crack up laughing at that, the tension broken. Their envy towards Leclerc’s charmed life remains, but it’s now tinged with a newfound respect and even a touch of empathy.
“Y’know, jokes aside, I do hope he realizes how lucky he is to have her and treats her right,” Mark says sincerely as their chuckles subside. “A love like that seems rare these days.”
Tom reaches over to clap Mark on the shoulder. “No worries, mate. Did you see the dopey grin on Charles’ face in those paparazzi pics of them together that came out earlier? That man is whipped with a capital W. He knows he’s got a keeper.”
“As he should,” nods James sagely. “Behind every great Ferrari champion is an even greater woman keeping his ego in check. Tale as old as time.”
On that note, the guys clink their pint glasses together, silently saluting the unnamed woman who stole the heart of Charles Leclerc and the envious admiration of Formula 1 fans worldwide. The mystery girlfriend with impeccable style and a heart of gold.
As the pre-race coverage starts up on the bar TV, the guys settle in to cheer on their favorite driver, their fleeting jealousy replaced by the camaraderie and excitement of race day. But in the back of their minds, a single wistful thought remains — what they wouldn’t give to find a love like Charles and his girl seem to share. Guess that’s just one more thing to add to the list of reasons to idolize Charles Leclerc.
***
Among the hordes of viewers obsessively replaying the clip are three best friends gathered for a girls night at a posh Parisian penthouse. Colette, the willowy blonde draped across a velvet chaise lounge, takes a sip of her champagne and shakes her head in wonder.
“God, can you imagine having a boyfriend who just casually drops 10k on you like it’s nothing? Talk about relationship goals,” she sighs dreamily.
Next to her, Nadia snorts derisively while scrolling through Instagram on her phone. “Oh please, like that’s hard to find. I bet loads of rich guys would do that for their girlfriends. It’s not that impressive.”
From her perch on a tufted ottoman, Stephanie raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? You think Liam would send you that kind of cash without batting an eye? Mr. I-Need-To-Check-With-My-Financial-Advisor-Before-I-Buy-A-New-Tie?”
Colette erupts into giggles at the scathing impression of Nadia’s banker boyfriend. Even Nadia cracks a reluctant smile before tossing her sleek dark hair.
“Whatever. I’m just saying, that TikTok chick’s boyfriend can’t be THAT special. I’m sure if we did the same challenge our boyfriends would come through too,” she declares with more than a hint of competitiveness in her voice.
“Oooh yes, let’s do it! Let’s recreate the video and see what happens!” Colette squeals, bouncing up and down on the chaise with excitement.
Stephanie, ever the voice of reason, looks uncertain. “I don’t know, guys ... isn’t it a bit tacky to demand money from them like that? What if they get mad?”
Nadia rolls her eyes. “Oh come on Steph, live a little! It’s just a silly experiment. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Okay, okay fine,” Stephanie relents, unable to resist her friends’ cajoling. “But I’m blaming you both if Omer breaks up with me over this!”
“Deal!” Colette grins impishly as she grabs her phone. “I’ll go first — let me call Henry and we’ll see if he’s as generous as Mystery Monaco Man.”
With a deep breath, she dials her property developer boyfriend and launches into her rehearsed plea as soon as he picks up. “Baby!” She whines. “You’ll never believe what happened. I’m out with the girls and my Louboutins broke! Like the heel just totally snapped off. I’m absolutely gutted, these were my faves. Is there any way you could send some money to my account so I can grab a new pair on the way home? Pleeeaaase, I’ll love you forever!”
There’s a heavy pause before Henry’s clipped voice comes through, tinged with annoyance. “Christ, again with the bloody shoes? What is it with you women and wasting my hard earned money on bits of leather you don’t need? Can’t you just take the broken ones to get fixed?”
Colette’s perfectly glossed pout trembles, her blue eyes shining with disappointed tears as Nadia and Stephanie look on in pity. “Never mind,” she mumbles. “Forget I asked. Chat later.” She hangs up and flings her phone down despondently.
“What an ass,” Nadia spits. “You deserve so much better.” Colette shrugs sadly but rallies as she turns to Stephanie expectantly.
“Okay Steph, your turn to give Omer a ring! Let’s hope he restores our faith in rich boyfriends everywhere.”
Stephanie grimaces but dutifully calls her Qatar-based hedge fund manager beau. In her most saccharine voice, she makes her case. “Habibi, you know that gorgeous YSL bag I showed you last week? It finally came back in stock but only for today! Could you maybe pop some cash in my account so I can treat myself? I’ve been working so hard lately and-”
“Wallahi Stephanie, how many handbags does one woman need?” Omer cuts her off irritably. “If I buy you this one, I don’t want to hear any more whining for designer things for at least 6 months, got it? I’ll send you 500 euros, that should more than cover it.”
“Oh. Right. Thanks, I guess ...” Stephanie replies glumly before ending the call. She shakes her head at her friends. “Well, it’s something at least?”
“Hardly,” Nadia scoffs. “These men, I swear. Okay, time for me to show you girls how it’s done. Watch and learn, ladies.”
With a confident smirk, she video calls Liam who answers distractedly, clearly still at the office despite the late hour. “This better be important Nadia, I’m right in the middle of-”
“Liam. Focus,” Nadia cuts him off crisply. “I need you to send €10,000 to my account right now. No questions asked.” She arches a commanding eyebrow, daring him to argue.
Liam just blinks at her for a moment before letting out an incredulous laugh. “I’m sorry, you need me to do what now? 10 grand, are you mad? For what possible reason?”
“To prove you love me,” Nadia retorts smugly. “I saw this thing on TikTok, some girl’s boyfriend sent her-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Liam interrupts. “I’m not one of your little social media playthings to manipulate for views, Nadia. My money is not a toy. I’ll buy you a thoughtful gift for your birthday next month, but I’m not in the business of flinging cash at you for no reason. Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us have real work to do. Goodnight.”
With that he abruptly ends the call, leaving Nadia staring at the blank screen, a red flush of embarrassment and anger creeping up her elegant neck. Stephanie and Colette exchange knowing looks.
“So … that went well,” Stephanie quips sarcastically.
Colette sighs morosely as she flops back onto the chaise, hugging a silk pillow. “Maybe that girl’s boyfriend really is one of a kind. God, I bet she feels like the luckiest woman alive. Can you even imagine being THAT loved and adored?”
Nadia seems to deflate, her bravado evaporating. “No,” she whispers. “I can’t. You’re right, Col. Mystery Monaco Man is clearly in a league of his own. I bet he makes her feel like an absolute queen every damn day.”
Stephanie nods thoughtfully, twirling a lock of hair. “You know what though? Good for her. She seems lovely and down-to-earth in the video. If anyone deserves that fairy tale romance, it’s a girl like that who doesn’t even realize how special it is.”
“Ugh, so true. god I’m depressed now,” Colette groans, reaching for the champagne bottle to refill her glass. “To Mystery Monaco Man — may he set the standard for rich boyfriends everywhere. And to the girl who’s lucky enough to love him — may she live happily ever after and never take a single moment for granted.”
“Hear, hear,” Nadia and Stephanie chorus, clinking their glasses against Colette’s.
As the bubbles fizz on their tongues, the wistful faraway looks in their eyes betray the same thought — what they wouldn’t give to trade places with you for just a day, to know what it feels like to be cherished so completely by a man like Charles. To them, you’re living the ultimate dream.
If only they knew the best part isn’t the extravagant gestures or lavish gifts.
It’s the little moments. The soft kisses pressed to your temple. The fingers intertwined with yours. The sleepy smiles over morning coffee. The shared laughter and inside jokes. The unwavering support and unconditional acceptance. The bone-deep feeling of safety and coming home.
That’s the real fairy tale. And no amount of money could ever buy it.
***
Back in Monaco, Lando Norris slouches comfortably in his gaming chair, eyes glued to the triple monitors in front of him. He’s meant to be reviewing telemetry data in preparation for the upcoming race weekend, but the notification chime from his phone proves far too tempting. Lando picks up the device, fully intending to only glance at it for a second before dutifully returning to his work.
But then he sees it — the TikTok that at least a dozen people have sent to him in the past hour alone. Curiosity piqued, Lando clicks on the video and watches intently, his brows steadily rising towards his hairline with each passing second.
“Wait, is that ...” he mutters to himself as the clip plays out. When your boyfriend’s voice comes through the speakers, Lando’s eyes bug out comically. “Holy shit, it is Charles! And Y/N!”
A knock on the door makes Lando jump slightly. Before he can respond, a familiar mop of tousled chestnut hair pokes into the room. “Hey mate, did you see-” Max Verstappen starts to say.
“The TikTok of Charles simping hard for Y/N? Yup, watching it right now,” Lando finishes for him, eyes still glued to his phone screen in fascination.
Max invites himself into the room fully and flops down on the couch. “Absolutely crazy, right? Who just casually sends their girlfriend 10k for a random pair of shoes?”
Lando snorts. “Certainly not you, you stingy Dutchman,” he ribs playfully. Max chucks a throw pillow at him in retaliation.
“Hey, even I splurge on my girlfriend sometimes!” Max protests. “I just bought her ... erm ...” He racks his brain trying to remember the last lavish gift he purchased unprompted.
“A six-pack of Sugar Free Red Bull last week?” Lando supplies dryly.
“... Shut up.”
The two dissolve into snickers before turning their attention back to the TikTok, which has now looped to the beginning again.
“Charles is so whipped for Y/N,” Max observes, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “He’s just asking to get taken advantage of, throwing money around like that.”
“I think it’s kinda sweet,” Lando admits with a shrug. “He just wants to make her happy. Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if your girl asked!”
Max scoffs. “What, fall victim to a gold digger? No thanks mate.”
“Y/N’s hardly a gold digger and you know it,” Lando chides. “She works hard for her own money and buys plenty of expensive gifts for Charles too. They just like spoiling each other ‘cause they’re in luuurve.” He draws out the last word in a silly voice, making dramatic kissy faces.
“Yeah, yeah, true love and all that sappy bullshit,” Max says dismissively, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I’m just saying, no way in hell I’m sending 10k on command for a pair of fucking shoes!”
Lando hums thoughtfully. “I would.”
Max’s head whips around to stare at him incredulously. “You what.”
“If it was the right girl? Sure, I’d do it,” Lando says nonchalantly. “Maybe not for something frivolous like shoes, but if my girlfriend called me up and said she needed 10k transferred ASAP? I’d do it, no questions asked. You gotta have that level of trust.”
Clearly torn between wanting to take the piss out of his friend and feeling a reluctant sort of respect, Max just grunts noncommittally in response before turning back to rewatch the clip once more.
Debate rages online among the fans about the cute interaction. Most find the whole thing adorably romantic, cooing over what a doting and generous boyfriend Charles is. They swoon at the obvious love and care between you two, speculating excitedly in the comments about when Charles might pop the question.
Others are more cynical, rolling their eyes at Charles “simping” so hard and accusing you of only dating the Ferrari driver for his money. However, these naysayers are quickly drowned out and ratio’d by your legions of adoring supporters.
Through it all, you and Charles pay the speculation little mind, blissfully wrapped up in your fairytale romance.
Charles returns home that evening to the mouthwatering aroma of his favorite pesto pasta dish wafting from the kitchen. He grins when he spots you at the stove, swaying your hips to the sultry jazz music playing from the speaker as you stir the sauce. Quietly, he comes up behind you and slips his strong arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Mmm, smells amazing,” he murmurs appreciatively.
You turn in his embrace and loop your arms around his neck, smiling radiantly up at him. “Welcome home, Cha-Cha,” you greet him, using the silly pet name that never fails to make him chuckle and scrunch his nose adorably. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“And what’s for dessert?” Charles asks with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.
Biting your lip coyly, you untangle yourself from his arms and saunter off towards the bedroom. “Come find out after we eat. Oh, and I picked up a little something special to express my gratitude for earlier ...” you call over your shoulder with a wink.
Charles’ megawatt grin could power all of Monaco for a year. Viral TikTok or not, the Monegasque knows he’s already the luckiest man in the world to have you as his partner through this crazy ride called life.
No amount of money could ever compare to the joy of being loved by you.
2K notes · View notes
likeumeanit9497 · 5 months ago
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they're both fucking good | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader x fem!friend
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summary: y/n has spent the day and night drinking at the beach with her best friends jasmine and matt. after getting back to matt's, heavily intoxicated and freezing, she is desperate to get warm. who would have thought that desperation would lead her down the path it did.
warnings: SMUT; threesome (f/f/m); oral (f/m receiving); established friendship; face sitting; facials; dirty talk; unprotected sex; talk of alcohol consumption; 18+
notes: holy fuck i FINALLY finished this. i know i told you guys this would be out friday night...and i know that it's now sunday...but i let the weekend get away from me (oopsie). i also have absolutely ZERO experience with threesomes (both writing them AND participating in them lol) so i needed some time to make sure i did my research. as usual i still don't feel super confident in my writing of this one, but regardless i hope everyone enjoys!!!
disclaimer: i would feel icky if i posted a f/f/m threesome fic without making it clear that i am absolutely not trying to minimize wlw experiences (ESPECIALLY during pride month!!!) by adding a man to the mix. as a bi woman myself, i understand how common it is for straight men to fantasize about having sex with two women while simultaneously disregarding the significance of their sexuality. my intentions when writing this fic were not to promote this mindset in any way, it was simply because i love men and women. i would also like to make it clear that my two female characters, though not confirmed in the writing, are bisexual and not simply participating in the threesome to appease the male character. okay that's all, lots of love <33333
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“Oh my god I am so fucking cold!” You exclaimed through chattering teeth as you walked through Matt’s front door. “Me too, holy shit.” Replied your friend, Jasmine, as she began climbing the stairs leading to the main floor of the house. From behind you, you heard Matt chuckle before locking the front door behind you three. “I told you both that you shouldn’t have left your change of clothes here if you were planning on staying at the beach past sunset.” He said as you and Jasmine scampered into his room where you had left your overnight bags.
You, Jasmine, and Matt had spent the entire day — and much of the night — drinking at the beach with a big group of your mutual friends. The three of you had met at a party a few months ago, and had all bonded over your shared appreciation for being highly anti-social in large groups. Because of this, the three of you had created your own little sub-group within your circle of mutual friends, hence why you all had ended up leaving the beach before anyone else had — including Nick and Chris.
You and Jasmine hurried into Matt’s room, shivering with wet hair and not much clothing on besides bikinis, wondering why the copious amount of liquor that you both drank hadn’t kept you warm. Without wasting any time, you began stripping your damp articles of clothing off to replace them with the hoodie and sweatpants you had left in Matt’s room.
As you lifted your bikini top over your face, Jasmine dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Matt, no! Don’t look!” She said through her giggles, covering her own face with her hands but peering sneakily through her fingers. Her attempt at preserving your modesty was unfortunately too late, as Matt was already standing at his closet, gazing at your chest as you continued to strip. Too drunk and concerned with the idea of getting into warm clothes, you truly didn’t care if you were stripping in front of your two best friends.
Just as you pulled your oversized hoodie over your head, Jasmine’s muffled voice filled your ears. “Wait a minute.” She said, walking over to you with an expression on her face that you couldn’t quite read. “You have your nipples pierced?” Her words came out slurred, and you feigned a smile as you nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had them done since I was eighteen.” You replied shyly. Curiosity flashed across her face as she began toying with the hem of your hoodie. “Can I see them again?” She asked with a slight smirk that you returned with your own before placing your hands on top of hers to help her lift your sweater.
Immediately, her eyes drifted to your tits, and you watched as they flickered rapidly from one to the other. “They’re so pretty, Y/n.” She said breathily, and you giggled nervously in response. The two of you were so transfixed in your own world — Jasmine still captivated by your tits and you immersed in her beautiful facial features — that you both nearly forgot that Matt was standing just a few feet away; watching the entire interaction in shock.
His feet were planted to the floor, and his body felt like a cement statue as he could do nothing but stare at his two best friends in their intimate moment. Even though part of him felt like he shouldn’t be watching you two, his eyes were glued to your places a few feet in front of him, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t pry them away. So he continued to watch as Jasmine moved her hands from the hem of your sweater to your ribcage, before eventually using her thumbs to lightly brush against the metal bars on your nipples. He felt the front of his pants tighten when your eyes fluttered closed from the sensation, and finally his jaw dropped when Jasmine brought her lips up to meet yours.
Your breath hitched from the shock of feeling your friend’s mouth on yours, but the shock quickly dissolved into lust as she continued to swirl her thumbs across your sensitive nipples. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you began deepening the kiss as a way to assure her that what she was doing was okay, and you felt a soft hum leave her lips in acknowledgment. As your tongues fought for dominance in one another’s mouths, you relished in the distinct taste of peppermint in her delicate mouth.
Both of your hands began frantically travelling across each other’s bodies as you both grew needier, and the two of you began hurriedly stumbling towards Matt’s bed in the middle of the room. Jasmine laid you down on the soft mattress — your head on the very edge of the bed — and immediately straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Your hands moved to her own bikini-clad chest, where you effortlessly lifted the material to free her tits before immediately grabbing one in each of your hands.
Matt continued to watch the two girls play with each other, his mind scrambled by what was happening in front of his very eyes. His cock throbbed inside his jeans, and he was desperate to get some relief. He palmed himself lightly above his clothing, but as the girls began grinding against each other in his bed, he knew that he was going to need more alleviation than that.
Just then, Jasmine detached her lips from your neck and dragged her eyes from you to the space behind your head. Following her lead, you turned your head to the side and immediately cast your gaze on Matt. Even from a few feet away, you could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. If his flushed cheeks and wild eyes weren’t enough to let you know how he felt about the scene in front of him, the sizeable bulge in the front of his jeans confirmed it.
“You okay with this Matty?” Jasmine’s tone was light and mischievous, but you felt your own heart flutter at the reminder that Matt was able to see all of you in this way. He shifted his pants slightly but nodded eagerly, enjoying the view but clearly growing antsy from just watching. You smiled at him once his travelling eyes moved from your half naked body to your eyes, and you felt a wave of confidence overtake you. “You coming?” You asked, and watched as his eyes widened slightly. Above you, Jasmine giggled seductively before reaching her arm in his direction; encouraging him. Even though he had seemed shocked, he didn’t hesitate for long before walking over to the two of you on the bed.
Matt positioned himself in a sitting position at the edge of the bed only inches from where the two of you were laying. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hooked a finger in his shirt collar and pulled him down towards you. Immediately, he attached his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as Jasmine’s mouth began moving across your body. Everything about Matt’s body language and actions told you that he was starving for more, and you didn’t hesitate to gently palm him through his jeans.
After leaving sloppy kisses along your stomach, Jasmine crawled back up to your face, at which time Matt detached his mouth from you and began kissing her. From your lower angle, you watched in awe as your two best friends’ tongues danced together in unison, and hummed in contentment when Matt began playing with your sensitive nipples. Growing impatient as your friends continued to kiss one another, you leaned up and joined the kiss. Sloppily, the three of you desperately moved your lips between each others; tongues swirling and teeth biting bottom lips.
Eventually, Jasmine began descending your body once again; her mouth leaving sloppy kisses down your neck and stomach before pausing above your throbbing heat. At the same time, Matt stood up at the edge of the bed and began removing his own clothes. “Is this okay?” Jasmine asked as she began toying with your bikini bottoms; that cheeky glint still present in her eyes. You couldn’t help but nod, your body was on fire from the heat of the situation you found yourself in the middle of. As Jasmine began removing your bottoms, you felt Matt gently grab you under your arms and pull you closer to the edge of the bed. With your head now dangling off the side of the mattress, your view was of Matt staring down at you, stroking his hard cock.
Suddenly, your focus was pulled from the beautiful sight in front of you by Jasmine’s warm mouth against your reactive clit. A moan was pulled from your lips as she began swirling her tongue against your nerves, and you felt pleasure beyond anything you had ever felt before. Jasmine continued to use her talented mouth to fuck you as Matt gazed down at the two of you deep in your own world of pleasure. His view was mind blowing, and he lost all sight of control when your mouth released its loud cries of pleasure. As your mouth opened in ecstasy, he took the opportunity to gently grab onto either side of your face and slide his throbbing dick into your mouth.
Your eyes blew open in shock, but one look at Matt’s glazed over expression of relief was enough to amplify your own sense of arousal. Just as Jasmine slid two slender fingers into your core, Matt began thrusting his member into you. He started off slow and shallow — testing the waters to ensure that you were comfortable — but as your moans of pleasure vibrated his cock he began driving it faster down your throat. Overwhelmed with the unfamiliar sensation of pleasuring one person while also being pleasured by another, you began to lose control of yourself and grabbed onto Jasmine’s long hair in a desperate attempt at feeling grounded. It didn’t take long for Jasmine’s work to bring you close to an orgasm, and your eyes filled with tears as your pleasure began to overtake you. “F-fuck.” You mumbled around Matt’s dick as Jasmine’s fingers began pumping faster in and out of you.
The build up of your orgasm was so staggering that you were having a hard time letting go, especially with two sets of eyes on your writhing body. Jasmine detached her mouth from your clit but kept pumping her fingers into you as she leaned up close to your face. She smirked down at you and watched closely as your throat filled with Matt’s cock over and over. “You gonna cum baby?” She asked, her fingers never losing rhythm inside of you as you sent her pleading eyes. If you could speak, you would have begged her to not stop, but all you could do was release a gurgled moan. Just then, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm tore through you like a freight train. Your mouth went slack around Matt’s cock and your back arched off the bed as Jasmine’s fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm; even after you felt the relief from squirting all over them.
“Holy fuck.” You heard Matt’s gravelly voice through your clouded thoughts as your orgasm began to subside. His hips stilled — he was on the verge of finishing himself — and his grip on the sides of your face tightened as he attempted to regain his composure. With gasping breaths, you managed to calm your racing heart. “Hmm, you taste so good Y/n. Kiss me Matty, and see for yourself.” Jasmine’s voice was breathy and seductive, and without hesitation Matt leaned above you to kiss her deeply; moaning from the taste that your arousal had left behind on her tongue.
Just the thought of your juices being shared between your two best friends stirred up a new wave of arousal within you, and you pressed your thighs together to gain some sort of relief. However, it wasn’t long before Matt and Jasmine broke their kiss and peered down at you, Matt brushing a gentle thumb across your bottom lip. “You ready to get used some more, Y/n?” Asked Jasmine, and you didn’t hesitate before nodding your head eagerly.
Immediately, Jasmine grabbed your legs and encouraged you to spin around on the bed so that instead of your head dangling off the side, it was your legs. Matt grabbed onto both of your knees and guided them open before staring intently at your glistening core. “Your mouth was so good, can’t wait to feel your pussy around me.” His dirty words went right to your heat, and Jasmine furthered your anticipation with her own string of filth. “Mmm. Your mouth clearly knows how to make a cock feel good, let’s see if it knows its way around a cunt.” She gazed down at your puffy lips as she began removing her string bikini bottoms, and you whimpered softly when Matt slid his veiny cock tauntingly along your folds.
Jasmine lifted her leg and straddled your face, making you lose your sense of clear vision as her core hovered above your trembling mouth. So close you could reach it with your tongue if you tried, you took a moment to admire her. Bright pink and dripping from her own arousal, it took everything out of you to not grab her by her hips and hold her against your mouth. You were pulled from her trance suddenly by Matt driving himself into you. Your walls seized around him and you gasped at the feeling of his size stretching you out; your mouth turning into an ‘O’ shape. Seeing her opportunity, it was at this moment that Jasmine finally dropped her heat onto your face. Wasting no time, you immediately began devouring her folds; admiring her sweetness and relishing in the erotic noises that were slipping from her mouth all from you.
With Matt pounding into you, you were having a hard time focusing on what you were doing with your mouth as all you wanted to do was cry out in pleasure. Too pussy drunk to give into that temptation, you wrapped your arms around her smooth thighs and held her firmly against your swirling tongue. “Oh my fucking god, Y/n. S-so good.” Her words were choppy but she managed to get them all out before slowly grinding her hips against your face. You were feeling used in the best way possible, knowing that two people attached to different parts of you were able to feel so good. “Oh yeah, you’re so wet for me.” Matt cooed as he grabbed both of your legs and hooked them around his waist. You heard a half-hearted laugh from above you. “Pretty sure I got her started, Matt.” Jasmine taunted, and you suddenly felt her shift on your face; leaning towards your core while simultaneously moaning. “Oh yeah baby, that’s all for me, isn’t it.”
You moaned against her pussy when you felt her place a finger on your sensitive clit; and then nearly lost all control when she began rubbing it in tempo with Matt’s driving hips. Already overstimulated, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you came again; especially with Jasmine’s sweet juices dripping down your chin. “Mmm, gonna cum soon.” Jasmine cried out suddenly, her previously alluring tone turning into one more high-pitched and desperate. “F-fuck, me too.” Matt groaned out, his movements growing quicker and choppier. Feeling your own orgasm building up, just thinking about the pleasure that your other two friends were feeling caused the tidal wave to crash down once again.
You couldn’t stifle the throaty moans from escaping your lips and travelling directly to Jasmine’s now pulsating core as you both reached your powerful orgasms. You felt her legs shake on either side of your foggy head just as your own shook around Matt’s waist. Your nails dug into the soft skin on her inner thighs in the same way that hers dug into your hips. Your muffled moans used her body as a vessel to escape your mouth, as she sobbed out enough profanities for the both of you.
Matt’s orgasm wasn’t far behind yours and Jasmine’s. Just as you lapped up her residual cum, Matt let out a sequence of deep grunts before pulling his throbbing cock out of you and resting it on your stomach, pumping it a few times before releasing a river of hot liquid along your abdomen. You heard Jasmine gasp at the view she had had of Matt’s euphoric moment, and you savoured the satisfying feeling of his cum gathering on your stomach. Soon after, Jasmine lifted her heat off of your face, staying on her hands and knees above you but finally giving you your sense of sight back. Chest heaving, Matt looked down at you with dazed eyes and shot you a gentle smile as your eyes adjusted to the light.
Just centimetres above you, Jasmine’s voluminous breasts hung in the air and you reached up with your tongue and licked them both, not ready for this event to be over. Jasmine didn’t seem to want that either, as she released a soft moan before leaning down to your stomach and dropping small kisses along it. She then used her tongue and collected the pool of Matt’s cum in her mouth before leaning back towards your face and placing a hand on your jaw. Using her grip on your jaw to open your mouth, she leaned down until your lips were nearly touching before spitting Matt’s collected seed into your mouth. “Holy fuck.” You heard Matt whisper under his breath, clearly taken aback by the sight of his cum being shared between his two friends.
You swallow his cum before smiling flirtatiously at him. “You got another round in you?” You asked him as Jasmine climbed off of you completely and you propped yourself up on your elbows to take a look at his still-hard member. Without saying anything, Matt simply smirked and climbed onto the bed before attaching his lips to yours once again. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him; deepening the kiss — the taste of all three of you travelling between your tongues — as he spun you around so that he was laying at the head of the bed with you hovering on top of him.
Still kissing you, he released a quick moan as Jasmine began bobbing her head up and down his shaft. He gripped your ass tightly with one hand and a clump of her hair with the other as his pleasure began to increase, and finally he groaned against your mouth before pulling your lips away from him. Confused, you were able to take only a quick glance at his fucked out face before he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you up towards his face. Keeping your trembling figure hovered above his puffy lips, he then grabbed Jasmine and encouraged her to straddle his hips. Once the two of you were both in the correct position, he wrapped one hand around your thigh and another around Jasmine’s waist and pushed you both down onto two separate parts of his body.
Before you had even settled onto his face, his tongue began working magic around your clit. Your head rolled back and you caught a glimpse of Jasmine riding his dick behind you. Gripping onto the headboard of the bed for support, you couldn’t help but release incessant moans as Matt’s mouth worked your overstimulated cunt. “S-so good Matty.” You cried out and Jasmine hummed in agreement. Looking in between your legs, you were met with the breathtaking view of Matt’s cold blue eyes glued to you as he buried himself in your heat. The two of you maintained blurry eye contact for a long time, Jasmine filling in the silence with enough dirty phrases for the three of you combined.
“Oh god,” Her voice was trembling, “Your cock is so big Matty. And Y/n, you’re giving me the best view right now, grinding your pretty cunt against Matt like that. S-so hot.” At her words, Matt gripped your ass with both hands and held you in place before drilling his tongue against your clit at an ungodly pace. “O-oh god, gonna cum again.” You practically screamed out as your body became once again overtaken by that fluttering sensation. “M-me t-too.” Jasmine’s voice came out much less confident than it had been just moments before, and before long your synchronized moans filled the room as you were both riding out yet another mind-bending orgasm all over Matt.
Feeling more than dazed from your third orgasm of the night, you hissed and lifted your core off of Matt’s face when he continued to swirl his tongue through your swollen folds. “M-matt please no, can’t take anymore.” You pleaded with him between your legs. Matt fake-pouted up at you as Jasmine continued bouncing on his cock. “Please sweetheart, just want one more taste.” He wined out, causing you to sigh before slowly beginning to drop your pelvis back onto his face. Just as his tongue barely grazed your dripping core, the unmistakable sound of a door creaking open filled the room.
“Are ya’ll sl — oh fuck! Sorry, fuck!”
All three of you froze all movements and spun your heads to the door, catching a glimpse of Chris’ panicked face just before he hurriedly shut the bedroom door. “Uh oh.” You whispered, your hips now back to hovering above Matt’s mouth; hanging open in shock. Jasmine suddenly broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter so contagious that you and Matt both had no choice but to join in. “Okay well, I guess that killed it.” She said behind you through her laughter before beginning to climb off of Matt’s hips. “No.” Matt grabbed her wrist and your thigh, his tone so void of all laughter that the two of you had no choice but to snap your eyes onto him. “We’re not done yet. Both of you, get on your knees.” His voice was so commanding, you turned your head to look at Jasmine in surprise, only to find a sly smirk covering her flushed face.
The both of you followed his orders and climbed from your respective places on top of his body and onto the floor; side by side. Once he was able to, Matt also pulled his naked body off of the bed and stood on his feet in front of you both. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, all memory of the embarrassment you felt from Chris walking in was replaced by a new wave of arousal. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and he slapped his cock against it a few times before finally leaving it there; granting you non-verbal permission to begin playing with the tip.
As you swirled your tongue around the ridges of his head, Jasmine began kissing and licking along his shaft. Keeping your eyes on him the entire time, you watched in awe at his heaving chest and pouty lips. Once Jasmine’s mouth moved down to his balls where she began sucking them, you brought your lips all the way down his shaft; taking all of him in your mouth before bobbing your head up and down fervently. Caught up in the new sensation of two warm mouths toying with his manhood, Matt’s hands immediately reached for both of your heads, where he grabbed fistfuls of hair and held on tightly.
Small grunts left his lips as both you and Jasmine worked together to make him feel good, and you allowed his hand to push your head down as far as it could go before gargling on every inch of his member; vibrations of your own moans working his cock even more. Eventually, his grip on your hair loosened and you removed your lips from his dick to catch your breath. Without hesitating, Jasmine took over for you and you watched her full lips swallow Matt’s thick cock with ease before you began fondling his balls under her chin.
You watched as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, clearly approaching his orgasm. Jasmine pulled her head back, letting Matt’s cock fall from her mouth with a pop before both of you began running your tongues teasingly along either side of his length. Tongues swirling, the two of you faced each other. When your performing mouths both reached his tip, you brought your lips to hers and you both began kissing deeply. You moaned from the feeling of her soft lips as her tongue entered your mouth, and Matt began pumping his own dick as he watched the two of you impassioned with one another just below him.
“Shiiit,” Matt hissed, causing both of you to pull apart and look up at his trembling frame. “Open your mouths.” He commanded, and you two obliged with seductive smiles planted on your faces. Matt’s eyes glazed over and, with a quick shiver and a husky moan, vigorously pumped his twitching cock as his second orgasm engulfed him. You hummed in satisfaction as you felt your tongue get painted with his cum, and eagerly lapped it up before it had a chance to drip down your chin.
His pumping hand slowed its movements as he milked his dick dry, and his fiery gaze turned into one far more lethargic and relaxed as he took in your matching blissed out faces coated in his own seed. Catching your breath, you turned to look at Jasmine and her face was just as euphoric and lacquered in cum as yours, and you collected a drop that had landed on her eyebrow on your thumb before licking it off.
After what could have been hours of silent, uncertain glances between the three of you, the sullenness was broken by simultaneous laughter. Starting off as nervous giggling, it quickly transformed into full-body unrestrained howling as you fell onto your back, Jasmine clutched her stomach, and Matt leaned forward and braced himself on his knees. “How the actual fuck did that just happen?” Matt finally managed to ask through tears of laughter. “Oh my god, there’s no way we all just had a threesome!” You exclaimed as you tried to pull your body off of the floor; only just now realizing what had just transpired over the past forty five minutes.
“I’m just shocked we’ve all never done that before.” Added Jasmine, finally getting control over her laughter. You and Matt found each other’s eyes, shocked at Jasmine’s words, and broke into yet another fit of hysterics.
“Okay, okay. I need a shower right now.” You stated, finally getting to your feet. “Jesus, so do I. Every square inch of me is sticky.” Your face scrunched in mild disgust from Jasmine’s notorious lack of filter, but you couldn’t exactly disagree. “Round two in the shower?” You joked, and watched as both of your friends giggled once again. “Definitely not, I think my dick would fall off.” Chuckled Matt as he found a pair of boxers and began putting them on. “You two go, try not to do any weird shit, and I’ll go get some water for us.” You sighed dramatically, pretending to be truly gutted that he wouldn’t join, but truthfully you were grateful considering how raw your insides were feeling. “Fine, but you’ll be missing out Matty.” Replied Jasmine, adding onto your pretend narrative by jokingly biting her bottom lip as the two of you hurriedly walked through his bedroom door and into the washroom.
As soon as he heard the shower turn on, Matt threw on some sweats and headed into the kitchen to grab some drinks and snacks. Once he turned the corner from the hallway to the main living area, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Chris sitting on the couch; staring at him with a cheeky smile. Knowing that there was nothing he could say to deflate the situation, Matt chose to ignore him and continued over to the fridge to grab some sodas; however he had to fight the small smirk that he felt travelling to his lips.
Unable to stand the silence, Chris spoke up. “Dude.” He began as Matt hid his face in the fridge. “How the hell did you manage to get yourself in that situation?” Matt moved from the fridge to the pantry where he hunted for something to eat, once again unable to contain a chuckle from how mind blowing the scenario had been. “Honestly, I’m not even sure.” He replied, making Chris laugh. “But like how did you initiate it? Like did you just ask them if they wanted to fuck or what? I mean I knew you were drunk when you left the beach earlier, but there’s no way you were drunk enough to be that confident.” He pried, extremely curious as to how his typically reserved brother would have the balls to fuck his two best friends at the same time. “I didn’t initiate it.” Matt replied truthfully as he pulled a bag of chips out of the pantry. “They both sorta just went for it.” At this, Chris’ mouth dropped. “Holy shit, that’s mad hot.” He said before getting up from the couch and walking closer to where his brother was standing.
“You wanna give me some details?” Chris asked, blue eyes twinkling with interest, but Matt’s immediate look of disgust was enough to let him know that he wasn’t going to get much out of him. “Okay okay fine, but can you at least tell me which one was better?” Annoyed, Matt rolled his eyes at his brother as he popped a handful of chips into his mouth and began heading back in the direction of his room. “Chris, you know my friends are off limits for you. You’re not about to collect this information to try to slide in.” At this, Chris groaned. “That’s not what I’m doing, kid. I’m just curious if one was better than the other. Please just give me that, then I swear I’ll never bring it up again.”
Matt couldn’t keep up his nonchalant image anymore, knowing that he had done something that his brother was so shocked by. Before now, Chris had never acted so outwardly impressed by Matt’s sexual endeavours, because truthfully, he had never before done anything even close to being as crazy as what he had done tonight. Fucking his two best friends at the same time was something that he had occasionally fantasized about, but never ever considered actually doing. But now that it had actually happened, and that it had been so good, he could feel his ego inflate by the minute. He finally let a prideful smile take over his face as he reached his bedroom door before turning back around to regard his dumbfounded brother. With his hand on the doorknob and a satisfied glint in his eyes, Matt finally responded with a tranquil sigh. “They’re both fucking good.”
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1K notes · View notes
lunaritex · 28 days ago
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𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LIGHTS, CAMERA AND LOVE 𖤐. — nishimura riki
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↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and riki are idols, reader is female, brief tooth-rotting fluff.
↺ FROM HYE: this was inspired after watching his artist of the month video heh…
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“Hello everyone. I’m (Name) and today, I’m on the set of Studio Choom to film the video for the Artist of the Month,” you introduced yourself, clapping and bowing a little as you sat on the chair provided by the staff. 
“(Name), how does it feel to be chosen as the Artist of the Month?” 
Laughing, you shyly tucked your hair behind your left ear. “Ah, to be honest, I’m not that confident in my dancing abilities. So I was quite shocked when I heard I got selected. But thank you so much for the opportunity provided to me. I will show my best self for everyone and my fans.” 
“Can you tell us what you have prepared for us?”
Humming, you slung your left leg over your right as you rested your hands on your left knee. “I’ve chosen to perform two songs: Rude Boy by Rihanna and Work it by Missy Elliot. I have gone with hip hop and pop, as I always wanted to try dancing to these kinds of songs. And I like challenging myself to new things too.” 
“How would you rate the choreography?” 
You purse your lips, pondering over it before answering. “If you know Pass the Mic by ENHYPEN, take their choreography and multiply it by… three times? It’s quite hard and it took me a while to master it.” 
“Speaking of ENHYPEN, how long have you been dating Nishimura Riki?” 
You gasped, taken aback by the sudden question about your love life. Your face flushed red when you heard the staff laugh at your embarrassment. “We’ve been together for about six months now, and our monthly anniversary is coming tomorrow. Which is also the day the video will drop too. I hope everyone looks forward to it-?” 
You paused when you saw a familiar figure entering the place. You ignored how you were in the middle of an interview, face brightening at the sight of your beloved boyfriend entering. You excitedly waved as Riki got closer. He chuckled, leaning down to press a loving kiss on your forehead as he stood beside you. Due to him being too tall, the camera was not able to capture his face. 
“What are you doing here? I thought you’re still busy with your schedule,” you asked, having to tilt your head up to look at him. 
“We ended early and I decided to surprise you. Although, it looks like you’re in the middle of something,” he sounds sheepish, but the staff merely shrugged his apology off. 
You giggled, leaning against him and faced the camera. “Now that my boyfriend’s here, maybe we should hear some encouraging words from him. Right, Riki?”
“Huh? Why are you suddenly interviewing me?” His eyes widened, not expecting you to change the direction of the interview just like that. You laughed at his reaction, pulling at his hand. 
“Come on, just say a few words!” You begged. 
Sighing, he bent slightly to reveal his face to the camera. “Hello, I’m Nishimura Riki from ENHYPEN. Uh, I don’t have much to say but please show lots of love and support to (Name)’s performance video. It drops tomorrow and I can tell she has put in a lot of effort into making the video. Thanks.” 
“Before we end, could we have the both of you do a dance together?” 
“Aish, I knew there was something else after this,” Riki mischievously wagged his finger at the staff, eliciting a round of amused laughter from them. 
You chuckled, rising to your feet. “Sure, how about we cover Riki’s dance on Studio Choom? The Artist of the Month video and we can do the moment of the video where it's most replayed.” 
“Don’t tell me…” Riki’s voice trailed off, recognition flickering across his face when he saw one of the staff handing both of you sunglasses. 
“Yup.” 
Both of you got into position. Once the music started, the staff were amazed with how in sync you were with one another. Your facial expressions were on point, easily matching the vibes of the song. Thankfully, you did not have to perform the whole choreography and instead, only showcase five minutes of it. When it ended, you were panting and catching your breath. 
“Since when did you learn it?” Riki asked, amazed as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“It was meant to be a surprise, but I guess it’s out of the bag now,” you sheepishly scratched your head, squeaking when he embraced you in a hug, his taller frame hiding you from the camera. The staff took it as a cue to end the recording, wanting to give the couple their much-needed alone time. 
Seeing this, Riki took it as his cue to squish your cheeks with his hands. You made a noise of protest but he ignores it, sniggering at your offended expression. He could no longer hold back, leaning down to give you a searing kiss on your lips. Before you could react, he had pulled away. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your dazed look. 
“You’re so cute,” he teased. 
“Riki!”
Needless to say, the video did well and most of the comment sections were filled with people squealing over your relationship. 
‘(Name) and Riki are so cute together! And the way they are in sync with one another is so cool! Truly the power duo we need.’
‘Forget Riki, I want (Name) instead.’
‘The part where they threw their sunglasses at the same time… chefs kiss.’ 
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cherubfae · 9 months ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you write Hazbin Hotel x Reader. And the Hazbin Hotel characters would comfort a reader who is dealing with a panic attack
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𝔭𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔰 || {𝔥𝔞𝔷𝔟𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔩}
tags: fluff, gn pronouns used, implied masc!reader for Angel, implied afab reader for Vaggie, comfort, mentions of anxiety, established relationships
Alastor
Soft static crackles in his throat, neck tilting at an awkward angle. You sat on the front lobby sofa, turned away from him while covering your ears with your hands. He's never seen you like this before. "Are you alright, my dear?" When he receives no reply, his static increases. Why won't you look at him?
Kneeling in front of you, he's taken aback by your facial expression. A dreaded frown has replaced your beautiful smile, tears streaming down your cheeks, and you're absolutely trembling. What has happened? Has someone hurt you? Tell him who.
Alastor isn't quite sure what to do. He could usually say something nice to Charlie and she'd perk right up, but you aren't her. You're his darling, his sweet rose. And he hates seeing you unhappy. Lifting you into his arms, he dissolves into smoke and shadow to reappear in his tower. He places you down on the bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. Clawed hands gently tug your own from your face, wiping away your tears.
"Tell me what I can do." Alastor whispers, a desperate twinge edged in his words. "I am here." He's gonna try his best to cheer you up. Playing some classical light jazz on his gramophone, humming and tapping his shoes. If you're lucky, he might even dance for you once you've calmed down.
Lucifer
Gentle hands cup your cheeks, thumbs soothing against your skin. He's breathing with you, encouraging you to follow his example. "Remember sweetheart, do the three three three rule." Lucifer whispers softly. "Tell me three objects, three sounds, and move three body parts." Your teary eyes wander his frame, touching his hands, his cheeks, and then finally his lips.
Kissing your fingertips softly, Lucifer never once ceased his gentle touches. A soft reminder that he's always close by.
Charlie
Oh, no! Oh no, no no! Okay! She knows what to do! Her Dad taught her how to do this when things felt too loud. Carefully, she cups your face making you meet her eyes. "What three objects do you see around your room, sweetie? Can you tell me?" Her voice is soft. Her warm body presses close to yours, her hand sliding down your arm to take your hand.
"Good, yes." She breathes. "Light, bed, and stuffed animals. Very good, honey." Charlie encourages gently, nuzzling your cheek with her nose. She pulls up your softest blanket around your shoulders and hugs you to her chest. When you've perked up a little, Vaggie is quick to suggest relaxation. "How about a nap, hmm?"
Vaggie
Carefully, she approached you from behind. Her hands, cold like ice, gently press to the back of your neck and begin to soothe and work any tight knots at the base of your neck and shoulders. She hums a soft tune, an old lullaby that was sung to her when she was little. It brought her comfort and she hoped its comfort would find you too.
"There you are, take it easy, love." Pressing a kiss to your temple, her hands comb through your hair. "I can run a bath, if you'd like? Might feel good." She wipes a stray tear from your eye, smiling as you squeeze her hands softly nodding. "Yeah? Alright, let's go, love."
Angel Dust
He knows that look well, he's seen it on his own face many times. Angel's first instinct is to bring you somewhere quieter and less populated. Crowds and loud noises overwhelm him when he's already feeling too emotionally overstimulated. Angel will sit with you as long as you need, holding your hand until you calm down. He'll gather whatever comforts he's able to grab, heck, he'd even ask Charlie for help if he felt really stuck and unsure of what to do.
"I didn't know what to get and so I asked Charlie, and she, well," he laughs softly. "Gave me one of everything. Chocolate, popcorn, chips, soda, juice, a face mask-- shit she really went full-out! These are luxury bath robes?!"
Husk
If there's something Husk understands it's that being a bartender you see people in all sorts of states in their lives. Happy, sad, depressed, divorced dad listening to rock music; he's seen it all.
So when you're on the verge of an anxiety attack, Husk drops everything and quickly approaches you, kneeling down to your height. His paw slips into your hand, allowing you to squeeze it, his other hand stroking your hair and pulling you to lean into his soft fluff.
"Easy there, tiger. Focus on your breathing, that's it." His deep voice rumbled against your skin. "That's it, kid. Keep on breathing for me, sweetheart." He nuzzles you gently. Husk may start purring too, as a cat's purr has been known to calm someone down.
Vox
To be honest, he's not quite sure what to do. Seeing you start to panic would probably make him panic a bit. He will approach you slowly, arms raised up almost defensively with his palms facing upwards. Is it okay for him to touch you? Yeah? "Okay, darlin', c'mere." Voxy's gotcha. Breathe in and out, in and out.
Vox will bring you to a quiet, dark room, curtains drawn shut for you to rest and recover. His display screen is the only low light provided. Tucking you in, Vox will sit curl up behind you and carefully stroke your hair. Want him to play one of those black screen meditation videos? Whale sounds? He certainly will for you. "Try to get some rest, baby. That's all that matters right now."
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|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||
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ellabscrush · 8 months ago
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— play with my pussy, not my heart.
a/n; this has been an idea in my head for awhile but kept scrapping it, hopefully this is alr. btw my requests are opennn.
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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
cw; smut, mdni, fingering, reader has a nervous habit that might triggering, dom!reader, flirting, language, slap kink once, arguing, abby is a dick here lol, trust issues, angst?? lmk if i missed any!!
sypnosis; your well known girlfriend who has a reputation of being a player finally decides to settle into a serious relationship with you. aware of your girlfriend’s past, abby’s project partner comes to intervene with your thoughts & worries. back and forth arguing isn’t going anywhere, you had to show her other ways on who not to mess with.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
“it’s just a small study sesh baby, nat even agreed to do it at our apartment!” abby walks towards you as she hovers over, “so no need to worry, ‘kay?”
she caresses your face and pecked your lips.
nat, aka natasha ferreira, is apart of western university’s dance team. you’ve seen her around before wearing white flowy skirts and layered jewelry. you once heard her talking about how her parents got a brand new bmw for her quinceañera.
i guess there was nothing to hate about her, other than the fact she is gorgeous and very talented with her dancing. this was just another one of your stupid overthinking.. right?
“okay abs.. thank you,” you gave her a soft smile.
“that’s my best girl.”
besides, trust was the thing you both had been working on these past months. dating abby was going to be a challenge. you knew it and your friends knew it. though they weren’t too supportive with her intentions at first, you were convinced abby could change her acts if she reallyy tried.
three knocks suddenly interrupted your little conversation. abby sprinted to the door and opens it to find a joyful figure in front of her.
nat gasps, “abby! this is my first time seeing you outside of uni,” she smiles with excitement.
abby smiled back and leaned for a hug, leaving you to stare at them with a lump of jealousy in your throat.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
one minute you were next to abby, and then the second the brunette is touching forearms besides her with those stupid doe eyes, glossed lips, and weirdly seductive black platform heels. god she’s annoying.
“your handwriting is shit!” the brunette teased, giggling as she leans to abby.
“yeah?” your girlfriend chuckles, “this is what you get for choosing me as your partner.”
nat shrugs, “well then i can deal with it.”
you tried so hard to not be bitter. really you did. but each time you glance at the two across the kitchen island, you swore the both of them were doing this shit on purpose.
sudden eye contacts with you everytime they laughed together, unrelated conversations, and some flirty remarks. oh, and not to mention the obvious footsies that was happening under the table. like you can literally see it.
“fuck me..” you muttered.
“what’s that princess?” abby asks you, the nickname made nat changed her demeanor quickly.
you turned back to meet nat’s eyes, then to abby, and back to nat.
“nothin’ love,” you put a convincing smile.
three hours long night full of giggling and jokes you didn’t even get later on.. you find yourself yelling back and forth in your shared bedroom with abby who literally couldn’t understand where you were coming from.
abby groans, “goddamnit we talked about this!”
“i never did anything to her, you were literally infront of us,” she raised her voice.
“abs, she deadass rubbed her foot on your leg multiple times and leaned to you everytime you both laughed..”you went on, getting more frustrated by the minute.
“well.. we’re just having a little fun, is that romantic to you?” abby asks with her hand crossed to her chest, her facial expression screams ‘you’re being crazy.’
you were exhausted trying to find ways to communicate without bringing up abby’s past, like you both agreed to. however, your concerns shouldn’t supposed to end in argument. you shook your head, letting out a long sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.
“i- i don’t know abby,” you stammered, “i guess it is romantic when they do the things i do to you.. since i am yours.”
you gazed down at your feet with teary eyes while unaware as you were digging your nails into your thighs. this was a nervous habit of yours in which you don’t realize you have been doing it for so long. your girlfriend, however, does.
she slowly walks closer to the edge of the bed and kneeled down to your eye level.
“you are mine.” her voice sounding more reassuring and softer like you could faint at that moment.
“i thought you could’ve been better for me..” you sniffled
abby panicks once she realizes you were crying, “baby no.. fuck i’m trying..”
“trying?” you looked up.
the blonde sighs, “will. i will be better.”
she moved your hands from your thighs with one hand, while other pushes your head closer to hers for a deep kiss. more so, a sloppy one. she wipes your cheeks and the kisses started from sweet, to mean in a heartbeat. abby stroked you waist, making you clench you thighs together.
abby smirks, “you turned on princess?” she asks and you just whimpered in response, “fuck.. i gotta wake up early tomorrow.”
knowing your girlfriend has plans tomorrow morning, this sparked an idea in your head. abby can become a submissive mess when you’re in charge. so you decide to show her other ways who not to play with, and whose pussy she can only play with!
“so?” you replied in between kisses, “don’t want me to scream your name tonight?”
.. besides, making her miss out a big free brunch with her friends the next day will be an added punishment you thought.
the blonde smiles and throws you to the middle of the bed, causing you to squeal from the unexpected move. abby aggressively pulls down your shorts and underwear. your wet slick was ready for her.
“look at you all ready for me,” she circles her thumb on your lips slowly, “gotta fuck that jealousy out quick or else i’ll be late tomorrow, princess.”
you smiled maliciously in response as you bite your lip. abby then shoves her two fingers inside your mouth, “open.”
she pumps her ring and middle finger in and out. being all soaked in your drool making it wet enough to fit in your pussy. the sounds of your whimpers made her go crazy. you shut your eyes feeling abby’s cold, drenched fingers sliding inside.
your body shuttered, “s-shit baby..”
the sounds of your wet pussy is practically making abby drool.
“feels so fuckin’ good, keep going,” you ordered keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde, “just like that..”
“that fucking pussy,” abby whispers, you licked your lips looking down at her fat fingers going in and out, “you needy whore,” she degrades.
her words were like fire and heaven at the same time. you wouldn’t be so pissed off at her if she hadn’t let nat be all over her for three hours straight. now it’s your job to remind her whose pussy she can fuck. and the only one.
you let out an airy laugh, “i’m the whore hm? atleast i wasn’t flirting with another bitch,” she looks up at your face. you were trying to keep your composure while being mercilessly fucked.
you sat yourself up with elbows on the mattress, “you proud of yourself huh?” just inches away from her stupid smirk.
“faster,” you demanded.
she curled her fingers inside of you, hitting your g spot like a pro. you can help but let out a moan and rocked your hips in rhythm. that smirk of hets turned to an amazed expression once she hears your juices sloshing around.
“fuck baby,” abby was practically drenched under her pjs wanting to taste you, “p-please need to taste you.”
“nuh uh, you’re being mean all day. you don’t, f-fuck, deserve me.”
abby was desperate just by hearing you speak like this. you’re such an angel around her normally, like when she first met you, you were different than the other girls she had met before. she fell for you. but damn that mouth of yours was killer in bed.
the rare times you controlled her was only when you were pissed off at your girlfriend for the amount of disrespectful flirting that was happening in front of you, or not giving you updates on what she’s doing with her girl friends. however, you can’t blame yourself for having mixed trust issues knowing how many girlfriends abby has had.
maybe you’ve been too patient with her? letting shit go so easily?
“shit- c’mere” you groaned and kissed her viciously at the thought of her fucking another girl. one hand around her neck while the other grips her loose hair.
“mmm, keep going..” you moaned in her mouth.
abby rubs your clit, feeling your juices squirting all over her thighs, “p-please baby.. lemme clean you up” she begs to lick your folds but you resisted.
you slapped her cheek, her needy face turning red.
“shut up,” you growled, “better stop messing around.. i deserve fuckin’ better.”
abby whimpers, putting her head back in frustration. she then looks down to see you, a dripping pussy drunk mess. her fingers were sticky and all tired. however, she’s not stopping until she screams your name.
“atleast say my name when you cum,” she pleaded, “please.”
her voice made you feel every type of way. your thighs starting to heat up, a familiar feeling as you have had fucked yourself with the thought of her in the past. pounding noises as you thrust your hips on to her fingers harder puts many heated scenes in your head.
“abby.. oh my god- m’ fucking cumming..”
“that’s my girl, ride daddy’s dick,” she encourages you.
an orgasm was washing over you, “abby you’re mine. fuck- ah-“ you burried your face in the crooks of her neck.
“all yours baby, i’m sorry.” she kissed all over your shoulder, genuinely feeling bad that she didn’t give you the reassurance you wanted earlier.
“abs- fuckfuckfuck,” you screamed out, screaming her name loud enough the apartment below could hear you, “i hate you so much..”
“i love you princess.. love it when i make you cum..” she admits. your legs shaking like crazy, feeling overstimulated.
you know how that goes..
once you orgasmed, you let abby suck her fingers, tasting every bit of yourself. and just like that, you were laying down with a fast pounding in your chest. she caresses your stomach and kissed all over your body, still needing to feel you more. but knew you needed her the most.
“hey, you okay?” she asked softly, looking at your sleepy eyes. she just wanted the both of you to be good. “i’m fine.. just a little tired. i feel like you don’t know how badly it hurts me to see you purposely being all over people like that.”
abby sighs, knowing she fucked up. she didn’t want to be that person anymore. she loved you, really, but her actions just aren’t the thinkable. you both sleep skin to skin while she stays up to watch you fall deep in your sleep.
“i love you, angel.” she whispers. feeling all the guilt in her chest, your girlfriend pulls you in closer.
of course, she had to make it up to you the next day so she cancelled all plans. it’s not like she got up in time anyway.
well now you both know she won’t ever be doing that shit again.
— ˚ෆ ⋅˚ —
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intimidating-fettuccine · 6 months ago
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Random partner headcanons
Random little things a few creeps do as your partner
EJ likes to memorize your schedule. He just likes to know all of the times he might be able to spend with you and know when and where you'll be throughout the day. if you randomly deviate from your schedule without telling him it throws him off his consistency and can bum him out and make him worried about you, so always make sure to just let him know if you'll be home late, or even early so he can make sure he's prepared for that. It sets his mind more at ease.
Jane likes to dress in your favorite color(s). She's quite the fashionista, and she has an extremely large wardrobe. When the two of you are a couple, whenever you're going out together to hang out or on dates, no matter the season she always makes sure her outfit includes your favorite color(s) in some way or another. It started out subconsciously, but one day you realized it and pointed it out to her, and she now does it intentionally. 
Toby mimics your facial expressions. He's often wearing his own mask to hide how he feels inside so he tends to keep his own face neutral or just in a resting smile, but the more he's around you the more he likes to mirror your expressions. It makes him feel more connected with you, and at some point, he starts doing it without even realizing it, and most of the creeps haven't quite caught onto it yet. Luckily you think it's cute, and that just encourages him and makes him happy. He partially does it to help him memorize all of your expressions so he won't forget them.
Slender always has a drink prepared for you when you get home. When he's settling down to talk to someone, he prefers to have a nice warm glass of coffee or tea, and when the two of you became a couple he started preparing a glass of your preferred drink whenever he'd make something for himself. Now he prepares you both a drink every day when you're nearly home. It's become muscle memory for him to do this and sit down with you for a bit after you get home, asking you about your day and how you're feeling, if there's anything he can do for you. It's your little daily ritual.
Jeff insists on always making you breakfast. He's got one of the best pancake recipes in the mansion, but he can make pretty much any kind of breakfast food you'd want him to, and if he hasn't made it before he'd definitely try to for you. It just sets his mind at ease to be able to wake up every day and do something for you. Whether you accompany him to the kitchen and keep him company, or he surprises you with breakfast in bed, he wants to make sure you start your day off deliciously. It relaxes and unwinds him at the start of the day, putting him in a good mood to be able to cook for and eat with you.
LJ gets really, really into learning your favorite songs. He never really listened to music (only really being familiar with more classical pieces), and so he wants to hear whatever music it is you listen to. He likes just laying in bed with you, walking somewhere, or even listening while you're baking something, so he can be with you when he hears your favorites. He might not like all of them, but some of them he really latches onto and he finds himself humming or singing them throughout the day, causing most of the mansion to become confused at how LJ suddenly knows so much modern music. It just brings him great happiness to share something you love with you, and it really gets him into music.
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pitchsidestories · 6 months ago
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can't stop this feeling II Alessia Russo x Reader
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part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2954 I
a/n: hi, the oneshot is based off the ask to write for Alessia, we hope you guys like this one, it's on the longer side, so get cozy.
Vick Hope looked expectantly at the two players who formed The Tooney & Russo Show together. The question she read out loud only a couple of seconds ago, was weighing heavy on the Arsenal forward.
They were playing a quick-fire question round of who’s more likely for the new episode and the moderator asked them:” Who’s more likely to kiss a girl?”
“Alessia, she just did last night!”, Ella yelled enthusiastically.
“Tooney!”, Alessia gasped.
Shooting an innocent smile in her best friend’s direction the Manchester United footballer defended herself:” What? You just told me.”
“Yes, but that was just a kiss between teammates.”, the Blonde explained, her cheeks turning slightly pinks as she spoke.
“You never kissed me.”, Ella reminded her with a cheeky grin.
“Yes, because you’re my best friend. I’d never kiss-.”, Alessia licked the lips nervously.
“Your friends? Liar.”, the midfielder clicked her tongue reprovingly.
The remark of the fellow footballer made the blonde blush even harder:” Can we change the topic please? This is ridiculous. It was fun and meant nothing.”
“Sure, so who’s more likely to get into a bar fight?”, sensing the change of the mood in the room Vick Hope switched the discussion to something more light-hearted.
“Definitely Tonney.”, Alessia laughed.
“True, I can’t deny that.”, Ella responded, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalantly manner.
Last night, when the kiss which the podcast had hinted at, happened the Arsenal team has been out in the bars, celebrating the end of the season. The temperature been up letting everyone know that summer was around the corner.
“No, drinks for, y/n.”, Lia told her teammates at the table seriously. The room was nicely lit, with modern art on the walls and a lot of plants as decorative elements.
“Wally, I’m 23 and not longer 16 anymore.”, you scowled at her.
“Still, the rules are the rules.”, the Swiss woman declared, she didn’t seem to be impressed by your throw in.
Clearing her throat, Katie offered you grinning:” You can take a sip from my drink.”
“Thanks, Katie.”, you replied happily.
“Katie!”, Kim scolded the Irish player.
“She turned 23 this month, you guys need to calm down!”, she scoffed.
“Listen, I’ll order a drink now!”, Leah announced as she banged on the table, to underline the seriousness of her decision.
“Lee, I love you. Thank you!”, you sighed gratefully.
“Excuse me? I thought you loved me more.”, Alessia interjected, her pretty lips formed to a pout.
“Did you buy me a drink?”, you rose an eyebrow at her, but couldn’t help to giggle because of her silly facial expression.
“No?“, Alessia replied truthfully.
“See?“
Your teammate shrugged: “Fine then. I still love you.“
“Love you too. But not as much as Leah.“, you replied when the blonde defender reappeared next to you with a drink in hand.
You carefully took the glass from her: “Thanks, Lee.“
“You’re welcome.“, she laughed, holding up her own glass so you could clink your glass to hers.
“Cheers.“
“Cheers.“
You both took a sip of your drink and you had to admit, Arsenals vice captain had a surprisingly good taste in alcohol.
Lia playfully hit her best friend on the arm: “Leah, you’re breaking the rules!“
“The rules aren’t for her anymore.“, she replied decisively.
You nodded enthusiastically: “Exactly!“
The Swiss midfielder shook her head in faux shock: “Unbelievable.“
You suddenly felt an arm snake around your shoulders. When you looked over, your eyes met Beths. She leaned her head on her shoulder, obviously not on her first drink anymore and said: “You’ll always be our baby, y/n. No matter how old you get.“
“Oh yes.“, Lia agreed.
You shook Beth off and grimaced at your older teammates: “Ugh, you’re horrible.“
Between some gasps and a few protests, Kim only looked at you with an unimpressed expression: “No, we know you love us.“
You were about to respond that maybe they should have their alcohol consumption supervised instead because none of them seemed sober at the moment when Alessia grabbed your wrist. Your attention immediately shifted to her.
“Want to go get some fresh air?“, she asked, her blue eyes twinkling.
“Yes, please.“, you nodded, happy to escape your teammates for a moment.
A smile appeared on your friends lips as she pulled you along: “Come on then. Maybe they have calmed down until then.“
You both stepped outside into Londons night air. It was chilly and you wrapped the arm not holding your drink around yourself. “Let’s hope so. It’s just so annoying when they’re babying me like I’m still that academy youngster who joined them seven years ago…“
You sighed quietly. You were still grateful for these women. They were welcoming and supportive when you first joined Arsenals senior squad. By now you even considered most of them your family. But they still seemed to ignore that you had changed since then.
“Maybe they still want to believe that.“, Alessia grinned, bumping her shoulder against yours.
“Possible.“
“Maybe it makes them feel less old.“, the striker suggested while taking your drink from you and having a sip.
You let out a laugh: “I guess that could be true.“
While she was busy enjoying your drink, you used the opportunity to reapply your lipgloss. As you followed the contour of your lips with the applicator, you realized that Alessias eyes were following your movements.
You frowned at her: “What?“
“That’s a pretty gloss.”, the blonde muttered under her breath.
Her visible nervousness amused you.
“I could put some gloss on your lips if you’d want to?”, you offered her, smiling innocently.
“Sure.”, Alessia nodded as she kept focussing on your lips. They are so kissable, the forward thought to herself while you applied the gloss on to her.
Stepping a bit away from her, you noted:” It looks great on you.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s true.”, you replied but before you could add anything more your teammates lips were on yours, you exchanged short and sweet kisses.
In between those Alessia stated with a huge grin on her face: “And very kissable.”
“Oh, do you think so, Russo?”, you gave her a challenging look.
“Yes.”, she declared laughing.
“Too bad you’re only for the boys you’re a pretty solid kisser.”, you sighed dramatically. Despite the joking, it did hurt you saying this out loud. You couldn’t dwell on it for too long as Alessia showered you in more kisses to stop you from talking.
“I can still kiss you anyway.”, the forward claimed confidently. The two of you have been too oblivious to your surroundings, so you didn’t see your teammates turning up behind you, who have started to worry what took you two so long.  
“Oi, Lessi kissed y/n!”, Katie yelled.
“Katie.”, Caitlin scolded her girlfriend.
“Wait, what !?”, Beth gasped, the shock has been written all over her face.
“Relax, girls, it was just a kiss.”, Alessia tried to soothe them with her response.
“It’s never just a kiss.”, Beth answered in a serious tone.
“Well for us it’s, right y/n?”, the younger forward asked you.
“Uhm, yeah sure.”, you mumbled, you could feel the rest of your team could sense that you were lying.
The Irish woman was clearly ready to reply something sharp, but Caitlin stopped her. “Don’t say anything right now, Katie.”
“I think I’ll be going home now.”, you decided quietly.  
“Already?”, Lia questioned surprised.
When she saw you nodding the Swiss woman continued: “I can bring you home.”
“Oh, you don’t need to.”, you told her.
“I was about to leave anyway.”, Lia shrugged.
“Okay, fine.”, you gave in, after you said your goodbyes to everyone, the older midfielder and you were on your way home by foot.
While you were walking Lia was absently smiling at her phone. Normally the Swiss woman wasn’t clued to her device this much, she would have pointed out the beauty of the gardens you both were passing on the way or talking about whatever crossed her mind.
“Are you texting Mariona again?”, you teased her smirking.
“Again?”, the midfielder repeated, biting her lip guiltily.
“Oh, please, you know what I’m talking about, you playfully rolled your eyes at her before adding more earnestly, I’m happy for you, Lia, you deserve it.”
“Thanks, I’m just surprised, I haven’t told anyone yet.”, Lia confessed.
You shrugged, biting back a smirk: “Yes but you know we all have eyes and access to Instagram, right?“
“It wasn’t even obvious!“, the midfielder protested, throwing her hands up in defeat.
“Doesn’t matter we all know.“
“I guess you do.“, she sighed.
You raised your eyebrow: “See?“
“Yes. But Lessi…“, Lia suddenly changed the topic.
You could feel your heart skip a beat but pretended to remain unfazed: “What about her?“
Your teammate studied your face for a moment. “What was that about?“
“I don’t know…“ There were a million thoughts in your head, a million explanations but the reality was that you had no idea why this had happened. You were thinking about blaming it on the alcohol but you knew Lia would not buy it.
Seemingly unsatisfied with your answer, the Swiss midfielder followed up with another question: “Was it just a kiss like she said?“
You knew where she was going but you decided to act dumb: “I mean… you know Lessi. She’s just very affectionate.“
Your indifference seemed to bother Lia. She stopped right on the pavement. “But kissing is a different level of affection.“
“Yeah…“, you admitted slowly, your gaze trained on the tips of your shoes as you paused by her side.
Lia let out a sigh of understanding and when you looked back up at her, her eyes were full of empathy. “You wanted it to be more than that, right?“
“I did.“ Your voice was hoarse and quieter than you expected. You cleared your throat.
“Oh, y/n.“
Before you could protest, Lia had pulled you into a tight hug.
For the first few seconds, the embrace felt soothing and comforting but then you shook your head, signalling your teammate to let go.
“But it’s okay. I know this will never happen with her.“, you said, once Lia took a step back.
The older player whipped out her phone again and started typing: “Let me text the others.“
“Wait, what?“
“They should talk to her.“, she explained quickly.
“Oh, that’s probably useless…“
With a stern face, Lia looked directly into your eyes: “No. I know you think this is probably not a big deal. But it is. It is hard enough being a queer woman, this should not be one of the things we should have to worry about as well.“
“What do you mean?“ The fierceness in her voice almost left you speechless.
“Being randomly kissed by a straight girl. I’m sure Lessi didn’t mean it like that but… she should know.“
“She should know what it means…“, you whispered. The kisses from earlier in the evening replayed in your mind and only then did you realize that Lia was right. Alessia was the one who had initiated this.
“The others will talk to her.“, Lia plainly said before gently pulling you along.
You immediately fell into step with her as she walked you to your flat. She only left when you assured her that you would be okay.
Crawling into your bed in the quiet of your home, you hoped that sleep would come quickly.
On the next day Leah was the first to approach her teammate, opening the conversation in her earnest England captain tone: “Lessi, can we talk?”
“Sure.”, Alessia mumbled a bit nervous due to the stern expression on the older blonde’s face.
“About last night.”, the defender continued, getting straight to the heart of what was about to be discussed.
“Is this about a kiss?”, she bit her lip in front of the older woman.
“Yes., Leah confirmed her fear before adding, Lia texted me that y/n wasn’t happy.”
“Of course, she wasn’t as a queer girl getting kissed by a straight one.”, Beth joined their talk shrugging.  
“That’s not what I..”, Alessia interjected with a helpless look on her face.
Clearing her throat to draw back the attention on her Leah asked the younger forward:” Why did you kiss her?”
At this point Alessia felt like she was being cross-examined by her friends.
“I just like..her so much.”, the blonde tried to explain her feelings for you in front of your teammates stammering.
“Like Lotte and Tooney?”, Beth questioned.
“ I thought so. But they never looked so..”
“Kissable?”, the England captain ended the sentence for her.
“Yes.”, Alessia nodded, licking her lips anxiously.
“Does she make you feel things like you did with boys before?”, the oldest of the players threw in.
“No, I’m not into girls.”, the younger forward shook her head.
More softly than before Leah responded:” Maybe not into girls but into her.”
“Into her?”, Alessia ran through her open hair to calm down her nerves, but she had to admit that this gesture didn’t help at all in this situation where their questions stirred something inside her for which she wouldn’t have simple answer.
“Yes.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”, the half Italian pointed out.
“Alessia.”, Beth tried to soothe her.
“I mean I’ve only been with men before.”, she reminded them and more important herself.
“Doesn’t mean it always has to be that way you know?”, Leah told her gently.
“But..”, Alessia begun.
“You don’t have to give yourself a label if that’s what’s concerning you.”, the defender emphasized.
“Thanks, girls.”, she whispered already deep into her own thoughts.
“Do you want to hear my humble opinion on this.”, Vivianne tuned in, turning up next to her girlfriend’s side.
 “Of course.”, Alessia said.
The Dutch woman looked deep into her eyes while talking solemnly:” Nothing of this matters. Who you dated before, how you label yourself. But if you want to keep kissing her, don’t deny yourself that. Otherwise, you should apologize to her.”
“Well, said Vivi.”, Beth said padding the shoulder of the taller player.
“You girls are the sweetest, but I don’t know.”, the younger Blonde forward answered genuinely.
“You don’t have to know yet.. just trust your feelings.”, Leah reassured her.
Alessia nodded slowly: “I think I should talk to her.“
“That sounds like a good idea.“, Vivianne agreed, giving her teammate a gentle pat on the shoulder.
You were on your way to leave the pitch when Alessia stopped you right after training.
“Oh hey, Less.“, you said casually, trying to move past her.
“Hey. Can we talk?“
You had dreaded this question but still nodded cautiously: “Yes.“
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to get hurt.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you, that was wrong.“, Alessia apologized sincerely.
Trying to avoid her bright blue eyes, you looked straight over her shoulder: “To be fair, I kissed you back which… wasn’t right of me either considering you only kiss boys.“
“Don’t. I initiated it. I don’t know what had gotten into me.“
You finally looked at her, searching for any sign you could find. “So you really think it was just a mistake, huh?“
The striker frowned: “I didn’t say that.“
You were surprised by the defensiveness in her voice. “True.“
For a second, Alessia just stood there, studying you. Nervously, she ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just really damn confused about what happened.“
You immediately believed her. You knew the desperate expression in her eyes too well from yourself: “Trust me, I’m confused too.“
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you.“
In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to put your lips on hers to stop her from apologizing.
“I just don’t want you like a best friend, Less…“, you said, your jaw set defiantly.
“I never felt about anyone this way…“
“And I never felt like this about a teammate.“
There was silence between the two of you. Both scared to make the wrong move.
Alessias voice was light as a feather as she whispered: “Do you think this could be something?“
“I do.“
It felt like your heart was somersaulting in your chest.
Your best friend took your hand in hers, her face softening even more: “But you’ll have to be patient with me. I’m new to all of this.“
You let out a soft chuckle: “I mean your kisses were the opposite of patience.“
She playfully hit you on your arm: “If you don’t shut up, I’ll have to kiss you again!“
“Try it.“, you challenged her but quickly added with more seriousness: “But I promise we can take it slow.“
“Promise?“
“I promise.“
“Come here.“, Alessia said, pulling you in for a gentle but long-lasting kiss.
You broke apart as Katie yelled from somewhere: “Guys, I think the kids will be alright!“
As you looked up, you saw your teammates standing at the gate of the Arsenal grounds, watching you.
Lia winked at you before turning to Katie: “I think we have to admit that they’re not children anymore.“
“Told you so, Wally!“, Leah joined in.
Kim Little grimaced: “Ugh, young love is so disgusting.“
“Oh, Kimmy, we know you love them.“, Beth grinned at the small Scot.
You looked at Alessia with raised eyebrows: “I think it’s time for us to leave, Lessi.“
“I agree.“
Maybe this was just the trial stage but the way Alessias hand fitted so perfectly in yours, told you this was going to last.
You were almost out of earshot but you could still hear the smile in Kims voice: “Such a pretty couple.“
“We knew you thought that!“, Leahs voice shouted.
You bit back a smile. What would you do without those girls?
pictures are from pinterest.
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hornychristianprincess · 5 months ago
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wasted (leehan x fem reader) FINAL
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paring: leehan x fem reader, ft. taesan genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k summary: finally confessing your feelings to leehan leads to a reaction you could have never prepared for. warnings: unwanted sexual advances (NOT from leehan), explicit [consensual] sex scenes, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it ppl) read on ao3 if you please by clicking HERE.
“Jaehyun, you have a lot of friends, right?” asks Leehan when he and his roommate are relaxing in their shared living room, doing homework. “Do you know anyone who works in the tutoring office? Blonde streak of hair?”
It’s the only attributes he can remember about the guy he saw you entering your room with only a few days ago, noticing the blue tutoring office logo on the chest of his polo shirt and the distinctive stripe of color in the middle his head. 
“Oh yeah, I think you’re talking about Taesan,” says Jaehyun, who luckily isn’t paying attention enough to his roommate to notice how he perks up at just the name. “Why?”
Even Leehan himself isn’t exactly sure why he cares so much. 
It’s hypocritical at best and gross at worst to think that you have any less of a right to screw around than he does. 
But whether it's his innate territoriality coming into play or the fact that he’s upset it wasn’t him at your side instead, he can’t help but see you differently after what he saw.
“I saw him with some girl I was fucking. Sexual partners are like cars – You don’t want one everyone gets to use, you know?”
Jaehyun, who had up until this point been lying on the floor and playing idly with his Nintendo switch, sits up to look at Leehan. “You’re not talking about Y/N, are you?”
The first thought that comes to a surprised Leehan’s mind is what he said to have tipped Jaehyun off. Failing to think of any divertive lie, he decides there’s no harm in Jaehyun knowing, only wondering, “How’d you find out?”
“I saw her going into your room the night of my Halloween party,”  he explains reasonably, before his voice and facial expression turn suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s going through a lot right now. She just failed all of her midterms and she might get kicked out of school.”
“Wait, really?” asks Leehan, who is hit with a sudden pang of deja vu as if he’s heard this before but doesn’t remember from where. 
And then, it’s with a sudden and strong surge of embarrassment that he remembers the moment when he was feeling horny and decided to send you a dick pic, pressing the little blue arrow after only briefly glancing at the above messages.
“Oh shit. I think she told me that.”
Jaehyun laughs jeeringly, the resentful sound of which brings Leehan out of his own spiraling thoughts. “You’re an asshole, man,” he asserts, saying it in a way that’s so casual it’s as if it’s just a known fact. 
Not an insult or a compliment, but simply a thing that’s true. 
And somehow, the neutrality of it hurts worse. 
“No offense, but I totally hope she forgets she ever met you.”
Hit by the irony of such cruel words being preceded by no offense, Leehan becomes sarcastic to avoid having to express the true hurt of being told that. “None taken. That seriously wasn’t offensive at all, Jaehyun.”
Maybe Jaehyun is right. After working so hard to emphasize the line between being fuckbuddies and being in a relationship, yet still finding himself acting the exact way he feared you would, isn’t asshole the only way to truly express how shitty he’s being about this? 
It’s at that moment that Leehan considers that perhaps this relationship between the two of you has spiraled out of control. 
Because something that should be inherently easy and casual has now caused him far too much regret and remorse for his liking.
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Sitting in an empty classroom with Taesan, you share a cup of bubble tea, the drinking of which causes you to bump hands several times as you reach out to grab it at the same time. 
Interacting with Taesan always brings up sweet and innocent feelings that are like that of childhood crushes, or chasing fireflies on your lawn after dark. 
Fall break has long been over and yet you continue to meet with him even outside of your mandatory weekly check-ins, forgetting the anxiety that once plagued you over this arrangement. 
The time you spend with Taesan is so fulfilling that you’ve managed to completely forget that Leehan hasn’t contacted you in almost a week. 
Well, maybe not completely. 
You still wonder from time to time what he’s thinking, if maybe he read the text message you sent prior to his dick pic and internalized the part where you emphasized how you wouldn’t have time for him anymore.
There is of course a tiny part of you that feels empty and abandoned at the idea of him ghosting you and never talking to you again.
But it’s in a stroke of optimism, feigned or otherwise, that you decide to pour your attention into someone who feels like a much better match for you, that someone being Taesan.
“I’m just about to finish with this assignment. After I’m done, do you wanna go to the caf?” you mumble out in inquiry to Taesan as you check over your quiz answers for the last time before submitting. 
You hear him make a noncommittal noise in response, which you first interpret as disinterest, but only seconds later recognize to be absent-mindedness as you feel his eyes warming the side of your face. 
You let out a chuckle, just about to say something teasing to him for being caught staring at you when a few warm fingers glide across your ear. Taken aback, you meet Taesan’s gaze as he tucks away a piece of your stray hair. 
“Are you okay?” he asks softly, holding your face in his hand. “You have this…faraway look in your eyes.”
Your eyes dart between his face and his hand that’s slow to come off of your ear, surprised by the sudden bit of physical contact.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answer calmly if maybe a bit shakily, trying to appear normal though your head screams with a million passing thoughts at once. Taesan nods in acceptance of this answer before turning back to his laptop as if nothing happened. 
If you were at all a gambling person, you’d bet good money that the telltale, suave move of tucking your hair behind your ear was a way for him to see how you’d react to something less platanotic from him. 
And if you were to allow this moment to pass by without saying anything, you know that he would follow your lead and pretend like this never happened. He’d use your silence as evidence that his advances are unwelcome. 
Perhaps you’re feeling a little bold, but you don’t want him to go any longer thinking that his interest isn’t reciprocated.
“Wait,” you remark, reaching out to grab Taesan’s wrist. “Taesan, can I kiss you?”
The usually mysterious, confident boy loses his ability to speak when you ask him that, eyes going wide and only nodding to communicate his consent. Finding his sudden shyness charming, you smile as you lean in to press your lips against his. 
Taesan’s mouth is just as inviting as you thought it would be all the times you spent staring at it when you were sure he wasn’t looking. He may have acted shy just now, but the way that Taesan kisses you is like fire. He presses his mouth hard against yours, and when his body does the same you soon find yourself pressed into the rolling chair you’re sitting in.
Your hand moves up to tangle in his hair, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. You were sure that Taesan, ever the responsible one, would be the person between the two of you to pull away before things got too heated. 
But now, all he does is lean in to your provocations, sticking his tongue into your mouth while you whimper against his. 
And as you try to allow your brain to white out so that you can truly relax into the gratification he is sure to give you, all you can think about is how his lips are not Leehan’s lips.
His hands are not Leehan’s hands. 
His kiss doesn’t evoke even a fraction of the electricity that Leehan does just by looking at you. 
You accept then that self-preservation must be a confounding myth to your psyche, because against all odds, you are still very much into Leehan. 
And while you could easily fuck Taesan anyway and let the enjoyment of his sex prove as a temporary salve to the gaping wound that is your feelings for Leehan, you feel too much like he doesn’t deserve to fuck someone with such selfish intentions. 
So, it’s with both regret and sobering understanding that you pull Taesan away from you, lines of spit breaking into drool as you separate.
The two of you become temporarily frozen in a moment of both confusion and shock. Taesan, looking at you with widened eyes and reddened lips, asks in a small yet urgent voice, “What? Is something wrong?”
You already feel like a piece of shit as you loosen your grip on Taesan’s hair, letting your hands fall to your lap and noticing that his still rest on your waist. “Taesan…” you begin, and already at just the sound of his name, you can see his expression wilting, like he knows by the unsure tone of your voice exactly what you’re going to say. And how couldn’t he, when you suck so badly at giving bad news?
“I think you’re an amazing person. And believe me when I say I really, really wanted this between us,” you emphasize, wishing you could get swallowed up by a hole as he continues to stare at you in dumbfounded awe. 
You know that these aren't words anyone wants to hear but you feel compelled to say them, feeling like Taesan deserves honesty from you.
“To be completely candid with you, the reason why I’m on academic probation is because of a guy. A recent guy who treated me like shit, but because I’m an idiot, I still want him.”
You wait on edge for the moment when Taesan’s disposition will return to that of the understanding, kind person you’ve come to know, the moment when you’ll both laugh at the awkwardness of this situation and allow yourselves to forget it ever happened.
Instead, though, all you see in Taesan’s eyes is a fiery passion that makes your head hurt as you realize he won’t let this rejection go down easily. 
“You know that doesn’t matter to me right? We don’t have to…be all romantic, and shit. I’m fine with something casual. Happier with that, even.”
It’s with a pang of insecurity that you fight back a self-pitying laugh at those words, wondering what it is about you that makes men only want casual, no-strings-attached relationships with you. 
“I’m sorry for making things awkward. And if you don’t want to tutor me anymore after this, I’d completely understand,” you concede in the nicest possible tone you can muster, still incredibly conscious of Taesan’s hands that have still not left your waist. “But I can’t do this, Taesan. You’re amazing but I just…I can’t, okay?”
When Taesan continues to stare at you as if he isn’t comprehending a word that’s coming out of your mouth, you reach down to move his hands off of your waist yourself, and when you do,  you’re shocked when you feel his fingers seizing around your wrists to hold them in place. 
“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N. So what if you’re not over your ex? That shouldn’t stop you from getting your rocks off,” he says, voice rising considerably as he squeezes your wrists so harshly it begins to hurt. 
It’s at this moment that you realize you’ll never be able to look at Taesan the same again. 
No longer the sweet, kind and helpful boy you first met, he looks pathetic and at worst, scary as he continues to refuse your rejection.
“Taesan, I’m really gonna need you to let go of me,” you request, saying it without any niceties as you manage to convince yourself that maybe he’s just taking this extra hard for whatever reason and just needs to hear you being serious so that he can come to his senses. “Listen, how about we end early for today and talk about this another time–”
“I’m not letting you leave until you can look me in my eyes and give me one good reason why we shouldn’t do this,” he asserts, still holding your wrists, laughing a little in a way that makes it hard for you to tell if he knows that he’s making you uncomfortable or thinks that this is all just some game of hard-to-get. “You can act coy all you want but I know you want me, I could tell as soon as I met you.”
“I’m gonna tell you to let go of me one more time, Taesan, and then I start screaming,” you threaten, no longer feeling amused or pitiful but instead angry, adrenaline running through your veins as you consider the possibility of having to physically attack him. 
You’re not sure how things escalated so quickly but now you’re quickly regretting ever befriending Han Taesan in the first place, ever thinking that he could be a permanent fixture in your life.
Catching you by surprise, Taesan stands up suddenly from his chair and drags you up with him. It’s in a flurry of movements that he somehow manages to pin you against a wall, smirking down at you from above. 
You let out a squeal but he covers your mouth, strong enough to use only one of his hands to keep your arms pinned above your head. He laughs as you struggle against him, perhaps not realizing – or worse, realizing it and getting off on how deeply he’s managed to scare you.
“What?” he asks through upturned lips, pressing his body into yours. “Don’t girls like it when guys don’t take no for an answer?”
It’s in the strangest and most serendipitous stroke of luck that you hear the sound of the classroom door swinging open.
And when you turn your head to meet the gaze of your savior, it’s Leehan who you see standing there, taking in the scene in front of him. 
It feels stupid and random that of course it’s Leehan who just happened to be the person to walk in here, but you don’t dwell too much on the details, focused on the relief that floods through you knowing there’s someone here to intervene on your behalf. 
Leehan hesitates momentarily as he wonders if he’s just had the misfortune to accidentally walk in on the kinky foreplay between you and this new guy you’ve been seeing. Attending a lecture in this same building, he happened to walk by the classroom and hear a distressed voice that sounded vaguely familiar. 
Through the fogged glass material of the door, he could just barely make out your silhouette, instinctually barging in to see what was going on. 
If Leehan didn’t know you so well, he might’ve immediately bolted at the sight of you engaging in intimacy with someone else. It would be too much and he knows it would force him to confront his conflicting feelings towards you.
But the moment he meets your gaze and sees the steely, ice cold fear that’s in your eyes, his next moves are made clear. Without questioning anything, he steps forward and punches an already staggering Taesan in the face.
The punch causes Taesan to fall backward, blood that you aren’t sure is coming from his lip or his nose splattering onto the floor. You and Leehan remain frozen, you in shock at both Taesan’s actions and Leehan’s sudden presence, and Leehan with the adrenaline of becoming unexpectedly violent. 
It’s in that moment of stillness on both of your parts that Taesan has time to recover, and before you can react, he’s leaping forward to tackle Leehan onto a nearby desk.
You let out a squeal of shock as the two men struggle, causing desks and their chairs to fly around the room haphazardly in the process.
And to your horror, Taesan quickly gets the upper hand over Leehan, sitting on top of the shorter boy in a straddling position before letting his hands fly in a series of devastating punches. 
You go to pull him off but he pushes you away, forcing you then to search frantically for your phone in the hopes of calling campus security before Leehan is pulverized any further.
“Hey, is something going o—” you hear an unfamiliar voice ask, and you look up to find that you’ve been discovered by a complete stranger, a boy who you assume is another student by his shaggy attire and backpack. He answers his own question by glancing into the room and catching sight of Taesan and Leehan who are both now bleeding as they remain wrestling on the floor.
You’re just about to enlist the stranger to help you in dragging Taesan off of Leehan when, suddenly, you don’t have to. 
Realizing that the stranger’s presence could mean that even more people could arrive to inspect what’s causing all of this noise any second, you watch as the fear of getting in trouble overtakes Taesan’s expression until he’s getting up. 
He gets up and sprints out of the classroom wildly, shoulder checking the stranger in the process as he flees out of the building.
“Should I run after him?” asks the student at the door who you’re sure is still processing what he’s just seen. But more than anything else, you’re worried about Leehan, who you just saw taking several punches to the face and is laying down on the ground making strangled, agonized noises.
“No. It’s better that you scared him away. I just need to get him to the infirmary,” you reply, trying to sound more calm and controlled than you feel but hearing how your adrenaline from the past few minute’s events causes your voice to come out shaky and broken. The stranger asks if you need any help but you wave him away, deciding it would be too much of a burden to have to explain what just happened to anyone else. 
So it’s by yourself that you go to hover over Leehan’s body and try to push back the horror of seeing his face bloodied and bruised so that you can help him onto his feet.
And because most of the damage seems to be centralized on his face — maybe his back and head, too, after being tackled onto the ground — he mostly manages to stand up on his own. Though, once on his feet, he has to lean on you to avoid staggering.
“Don’t…let him…go, Y/N,” he mumbles, making you feel even more concerned and on edge as his garbled tone makes it sound like he’s one step away from passing out. “He was…hurting you, wasn’t he?”
“It’s fine, Leehan. Let’s just get you to the infirmary,” you reply dismissively, needing him to be pliant more than anything in this moment so that you can get him to your thankfully close by campus infirmary without issue. 
Your transgression with Taesan with startling and for a brief moment, terrifying. But with him now gone, the majority of your distress lies with Leehan and making sure he’s okay.
And to your relief, as you take a few steps forward with Leehan’s arm leaned over your shoulder, he remains upright and mostly autonomous in his movements.
He continues to say nothing on your way out of the building outside from the occasional groan, and you’re sure that as the adrenaline wears off that the pain in his face must become more present. You luckily make it to the infirmary moments later, where the doctor on call takes one look at Leehan’s face and immediately rushes him into a care room. 
Everything that happens after that is a bit of a blur for you. A campus security officer comes to take a statement from you. You tell him everything, giving him Taesan’s full name and picture in the hopes that it can lead to some type of action, although a part of you feels discouraged and numb at that notion.
You wait anxiously in the lobby of the infirmary, waiting for an update from the doctor and feeling like you’re gonna throw up when the older woman comes out from the hallway with a neutral, unreadable expression on her face.
“Hi ma'am. Your friend is doing just fine. All of the cuts on his face are superficial, so they’ll heal on their own. He’ll have some bruises and swelling, which will also go away with time. He does have a bit of a concussion, so we’ll send you both home with some Tylenol. If you’d like to come and see him, you can follow me.”
Though you figured that most of his injuries were minor, you still feel relieved to hear that nothing is significantly wrong; it’s irrational, but you know you would have been eaten alive with guilt had anything serious happened. 
Getting up to follow the doctor, you walk into the care room to find Leehan sitting on the edge of an examination chair, a nurse still applying little white bandaids to a cut on his cheek. When he sees you come in he smiles, though only fleetingly as the gesture causes him to wince in pain.
You don’t know what to say to him, so you opt to sit down on a chair that’s directly next to his dangling legs. You watch as the nurse goes to prod at a separate wound on his lip with a q-tip dipped in brown liquid. You don’t realize how tense you are until you feel the warmth of a hand over yours, and when you look up, Leehan is staring at you in amusement. 
“You’re shaking,” he observes, and though he can’t smirk without it causing him pain, he still gazes at you in a way that is teasing and smug. And the fact that he’s concerned about you when he’s the one who’s getting medical attention makes you let out a cynical, humorless laugh.
“Don’t worry about me. Look what he did to you.”
“I’m still good-looking, though, aren’t I?” he replies playfully, and because you’re so upset, you feel yourself almost inclined to scold him for making such jokes in light of the circumstances. But Leehan, never one to read the room or adhere to the tones and moods of others, is laughing as he commands, “You have to tell me or I’ll have an internal crisis.”
You stare at him with your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to be annoyed by him but not being able to help your smile as he continues to await your confirmation of his enduring looks with a pout. 
Rolling your eyes, it’s with a bit of resistance in your voice that you reply, “Yes, you’re still handsome, Leehan.”
He pumps his fist up in the air triumphantly, and with that, the nurse leaves the room, telling you that she’ll return with the official paperwork needed so that he can be discharged.
Once she’s gone, it’s quiet between the two of you until Leehan breaks the silence with a question. “That guy…his name’s Taesan, right?”
You’re taken aback, both at the sudden change in his tone and disposition –  his voice now serious and inquiring – and the fact that he even knows who Taesan is. “How do you know?”
“I saw you with him outside of your dorm. Asked Jaehyun who he is,” he responds plainly. And as you take in this information, you’re not sure what to say in reply. Even just knowing that he was outside of your dorm that day when Taesan came to your room and didn’t say anything makes you think he must’ve had some kind of reaction to seeing the two of you together. 
And as you put the timing together, it makes sense why you hadn’t heard from him for a week until now.
But then again, it doesn’t make sense. Because the Leehan you know, the Leehan you’ve come to resent, surely wouldn’t — shouldn't — care to see you with another guy when he’s been so adamant about keeping things non-exclusive between the two of you.
“Are you together?” he asks when you remain silent, and in what feels like a complete switch in power dynamics, you find that Leehan is the one now clearly expressing some kind of worry or at the very least interest in what you get up to when you’re not with him. 
And because you feel both vindicated to be on the other side of this sort of questioning, and not at all entitled to tell him the truth, you answer by asking, “If I said yes, what would you say?”
Leehan looks at you, all amusement absent from his expression even as he says somewhat sarcastically, “That I thought being with me meant you had better taste in men.”
His response causes you to scoff, the idea of him thinking that he’s somehow at a higher caliber than all the other similarly emotionally-unavailable men on your campus something you find absurd. 
And yes, maybe it’s because you’re already feeling a little bitter towards him that you’re then replying scathingly, “If anything, wouldn’t my interest in you mean the opposite?”
“Funny,” he says sardonically in reply. The atmosphere between the two of you currently is tense. He resents you for being with someone else and you resent him for setting boundaries for your relationship that he never intended to follow.
And yet, despite the unresolved negative emotions that are clearly swimming between the two of you, it feels absurd and crazy to say that as you continue to make unbroken and silent eye contact, you feel like he’s about to kiss you. 
That’s the sort of crazy chemistry you seem to have with one another, where even as you both have the rationality to recognize the toxicity of this dynamic you both still find yourselves magnetically pulled to one another in a way that, in most people’s eyes, would be viewed as mindless. 
But it’s just as you swear he’s leaning in that the doctor comes into the room, handing Leehan a clipboard and telling him he can go once he’s finished filling out a few forms. You wait for him, not sure what will happen once you leave but feeling almost responsible to at least see him to his apartment.
And so, you exit the hospital together, and it’s as you’re walking out that you voice to him truthfully, “It feels weird just dropping you off like you didn’t just get your face rearranged trying to save me.”
He lets out a chuckle in response, swinging his body so that he’s standing in front of you before shrugging and saying, “Then don’t drop me off. We could go to your dorm, watch a movie.”
The request to do something as simple as watch a movie sounds so foreign coming out of his mouth that you can’t help but laugh out loud. “When do we ever watch a movie?” you ask, repeating the words in disbelief. 
You’re mostly joking when you ask that, but it’s with a tiny pang of sadness that you acknowledge the tragedy of him wanting your company for something other than sex being something that’s so unbelievable.
“Today. Rocky V is probably ill-timed, but I love a good nature documentary,” he replies with a grin, and as always, you are unable to get a read on his expression to know if he is being serious or not. 
But today has been a crazy day and you know that being in your room by yourself after everything that’s happened is only going to make you feel worse. So, deciding that there’s no harm in keeping him company for just a little while longer, you allow him to lead the way to the building that he’s been to so many times. 
You know from learning your roommate’s schedule that she’ll be in a lab for the next 3 hours, a fact that makes you feel relieved as you enter your dorm with Leehan trailing behind you. He comes in and immediately collapses onto the couch, spreading his arms out on either side of the cushions in a way that brings renewed attention to his broad shoulders.
“So. Do you actually want to watch a movie?” you ask casually as you stand a few feet away from him, trying your hardest to keep any bitterness out of your tone as you watch him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly.
“You know, now that I’m here…” he says, already smirking as he watches you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “It feels like a much better idea for you to come sit on my lap.”
Even though you find yourself enticed by the invitation, in a small, distant part of your brain, it feels like you’ve been manipulated into letting him come to your room. That watching a movie had always been a lie to get you to have sex with him.
But something has changed inside of you, and from what, you can’t pinpoint. All you know is that the accumulations of lies and divertive tactics that you’ve endured from Leehan thus far has left you almost numb to his provocations. 
Instead of feeling sad or shitty or upset, you just feel nothing. 
And somehow, that change feels more concerning to you than the emotions from before did.
Still, you find yourself stalking silently to Leehan on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as you make your way towards him. His legs spread naturally as you get between them, and it’s with a jaguar-like slowness that you crawl over his body until you’re straddling him. 
Intensity rolls off of the both of your bodies like water, the silence and shared eye contact only contributing to the growing sexual desire that builds between the two of you.
In contrast to such lust, it’s in a gesture of affection that you lean in to lay a gentle, barely-there kiss against all of the wounds on his face. The cut on his cheek. His busted bottom lip. The knot forming on the top of his head. The bruise on the side of his jaw. You do it almost in apology but also because you want him to tease him, giving him only fleeting touches and kisses before you do anything substantial. He flinches at first at the contact but eventually relaxes into the softness of your lips against him. 
And though you couldn’t articulate the reason why, you get the feeling that he flinches less out of pain, but more in surprise at the unfamiliar gesture of tenderness and how it impacts him. 
You’ve only just reached his neck, sucking hickies into the pale skin there, when you can feel his cock hardening underneath you.
It’s after you’ve kissed every single piece of skin uncovered by his shirt that you decide to relieve a bit of his suffering by reaching a hand down into the waistband of his pants. All you do is close your fist around his shaft and stroke him languidly, but you suppose your teasing worked better than you thought as he whimpers at the simplest of movements. He bucks into your hand, not afraid of seeming desperate and shamelessly moaning at your touch. 
Watching him writhe and shudder beneath you, sensitive in a way you’ve never seen before, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this is one of the few times that you’ve felt even a semblance of control in your interactions during sex. It’s always been you on the receiving end of his endless repertoire of tactics, designed always to render you incomprehensible and under the thumb of his persuasion.
Spurred on by the observation, you take advantage of his submission to ask a question that’s been on your mind since you left the hospital. 
“Can I ask you something? Why did you ask Jaehyun who I was with?”
You can just barely make out the expression of surprise that appears faintly behind Leehan’s glassy eyes, and in a tactic that even you admit is slightly contemptible, you never stop the movements of your hand as you await his answer. 
Desperate for even a moment’s worth of vulnerability from him, you hope that by literally dangling his climax in your hands that he’ll be more inclined to be truthful with you.
But for Leehan, giving you the honest answer — that he’s simply a jealous person who can’t stand seeing you with someone else even though it’s hypocritical — would only serve in making you think that his jealousy is a sign of caring, his caring a sign of affection, his affection a sign that he wants to be your boyfriend. 
And though that assessment isn’t as easy to refute as it may have once been when he first met you, it seems idiotic to put any ideas in your head that could lead to him having to admit feelings he isn’t quite sure of yet. 
So, in lieu of the truth, he replies with something that, honestly, should be a bigger concern for him than it presently is: “Because you should tell me if you’re being intimate with someone else. What if you’re not using protection and I catch something?” 
Up until now, you had prepared yourself to react calmly to whatever Leehan’s answer would be, a task you knew would be difficult because the idea of him being jealous at all is in itself insane and backwards.
It was he who insisted that this dynamic be free of any constraints or limitations. 
But the fact that he’s implying you would have sex with someone else and be so reckless as to not make any precautions for your health has your composure breaking, a scoff leaving you as you blurt out, “Have you been honest with me about the people you’re seeing?”
It’s a question you already know the answer to as you still haven’t forgotten the night of the Halloween party, how Jaehyun let it slip that Leehan had been on a date. You’d never confronted him about it because, deep down, you felt that you had no right to. 
But now, he’s placing judgment on you in a way that makes you want to throw all caution to the wind and express your true emotions to him for what seems like the first time.
Hearing the knowing tone in your question has Leehan worried, tilting his head to stare at you as if he’s just now seeing you for the first time. “Are you trying to catch me in a lie, Y/N?” he asks, amusement in his tone though you can tell your questioning rattles him. “I’ve never told you anything that wasn’t true.”
But that’s just because you’ve never told me anything of substance, you think to yourself, reflecting back on all of the times he left your room in a hurry so that he could avoid having to show you anything real.
You continue jerking him off intently, and even though he’s obviously enjoying it, you can tell that you’ve thrown him off. During sex you’ve always maintained this sort of scathing, playful banter, but this time, he knows that your question is motivated by a genuine desire to hear the truth from him. It makes him beyond uncomfortable, especially with his dick still hard and aching in your moving hand. In a sudden change of dynamics, it’s him trying to read what you’re thinking.
Seeing this crack in Leehan’s usually guarded persona spurs you on into saying even more things that you’ve been suppressing. “I know that you’re seeing someone else,” you assert, honesty you never thought you’d be capable of expressing coming out boldly and without ambivalence. “Jaehyun told me, the night of the Halloween party.”
Your eyes are glued to Leehan’s face as you scan for the smallest fluctuation in his expression, searching desperately for any indication of what he’s thinking. And in yet another gesture that might as well be a verbal admission of guilt, Leehan stares up at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. 
Leehan – confident, cool, teasing Leehan – who has always made you feel like you were scared of intimacy for not wanting to make eye contact with him during sex, is now the one shying away the intensity of your gaze. 
The feeling of triumph that comes with finally feeling like you have him at your mercy after months of the opposite has you speeding up the movements of your hand, watching as he almost winces from the overstimulation you provide. 
But more than anything else, you want answers. 
You want to know why he thinks it’s okay to police who else you invite into your bedroom when he clearly does whatever he wants without any regard for you. 
You want him to decisively and plainly decide if he’s either a sadistic asshole who believes that he should be able to treat you like shit while he goes out and fucks whoever he wants—Or if, like you, the passion of this relationship has overwhelmed him so much that he now finds himself feeling things for you that are beyond sexual, things that have caused him to abhor the notion of you being with someone other than him.
It feels like you need the answer to that question more than you need air.
And so, it’s in desperation that your voice comes out shaky as you demand, “Say something.” 
“I can’t,” he manages through gritted teeth, the sound of his voice coming out raspy and submissive making your cunt pulse with arousal. “You’re about to make me come.”
Feeling like he’s being backed into a corner, Leehan wants to tell you to stop, but the euphoria he’s experiencing is too great. He’s never seen you be so assertive, so purposeful in doing things that you know will make him go crazy. 
Rubbing your thumb over his tip. Spitting downward so that the wetness of your spit can reach his cock. Stroking him wildly and meeting his thrusts into your fist. 
Pressure builds in his abdomen until he feels himself about to explode with what might be the most intense climax of his life. 
But in a move that shocks the both of you, it’s just as Leehan is about to finish all over your hand that you abruptly pull off of him. 
Stop the movements of your hand and watch brazenly as the realization of what you just did is processed on his face.
Maybe he thought that you were joking and that this was all just some aggressive manner of foreplay. 
But now, he can see in your shocked expression, how you look so surprised at even your own insistence, that to deny him of his pleasure in this way was something that took a lot out of you. 
It’s been a hallmark of your relationship so far for you to devote yourself to his satisfaction. You’ve always cared so much about being wanted by him, even after he’s shown his disregard for you time and time again.
And so to see you work up the courage to defy him in this way makes it clear to him that you’re not gonna drop this.
This isn’t something that he can smile or flirt his way out of in the hopes of having you wrapped around his finger for just one more day.
You’re gonna force this into being an issue. And fine; if you want to have this conversation, he’ll have it.
Even if it means that by the end of this you'll realize how shitty of a person he is and want nothing to do with him afterward.
If you were still the same pliant, conflict-avoiding Y/N, you’d be alarmed at the change in his expression and how his usual amused smirk melts into a straight-lined frown. You’d transform into the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed girl who’d laugh and pretend that this was all just a way to rile him up into fucking you, hoping that you could forget this moment ever happened.
But it feels like something has been lost in your dynamic that can never be brought back. You’re no longer okay with being lied to, manipulated. And Leehan, realizing how serious you are, seeks to take back control of this situation by flipping your bodies over so that you’re on your back and he’s on top of you. 
He pins your arms above your head, holding them down so you can’t move. 
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”
He says the statement with a warning sort of tone but it only makes you laugh, no longer able to take his provocations and vague answers seriously. “Then don’t try to act hypocritical and treat me like I’m a fucking irresponsible idiot,” you retort, no hint of banter in your words as you hope he understands how serious you’re being, how done you are with his lies. “Having sex with guys without protection and not telling them about it. How do I know you haven’t been doing the exact thing you’re accusing me of?”
You ask a valid question that Leehan sees no way to get out of answering. Clearly, you already know (because of his disloyal, talkative fucking roommate) that he’s been seeing at least one girl that isn’t you. And because he can tell with certainty that your pliance is dependent on at least some kind of honesty from him, he tells you a technical truth when he says, “Since I met you, I’ve only been fucking you. No one else. I swear.”
It’s an answer that protects him from having to further delve into whether he’s seeing anyone else romantically, an important distinction that he isn’t interested in clarifying for the sake of your continued interest in him.
And as he watches you scan his face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you seek to find any indication of either sincerity or hypocrisy in his expression, he seizes the opportunity provided by your momentary lapse in questioning to reach past the waistband of your leggings, sticking two fingers into your pulsing cunt. 
He watches with satisfaction as even in your bitterness, you still can’t help the way your back arches and your mouth parts naturally at the action. Mirroring your tactics from before, he gives you great satisfaction in exchange for your hopeful compliance. Thrusting his long fingers inside of you, he mumbles in sensual truth, “Your pretty, wet pussy is the only thing that’s been occupying my brain for the last three months.”
The part of your brain that would question the credibility of his words is turned off like a lightswitch as the thrill from his fingers takes over. As much as you try to fight off what you’re experiencing so that you can regain the upper hand, it feels like it’s almost in revenge that he fingers you with such vigor that you can’t speak. 
“Can you say the same? Huh, pretty?” he demands, digits angled just right so that the tips of his fingers repeatedly push against your most sensitive parts. “Tell me I’m the only person whose been fucking orgasms into your cunt.”
You could usually appreciate such possessive sentiments from Leehan when they were spoken in moments where there wasn’t any lingering resentment between the two of you. Now, they only annoy you, causing you to petulantly reply in mocking of his earlier words, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”
And in a move that is surely in imitation of your earlier actions, he pulls his fingers out of you completely and with them, your orgasm. His expression is a handsome mixture of annoyance and frustration. 
It feels like the two of you are in some sort of scornful, unspoken competition, you trying to get him to be honest and him trying to get you to drop this entirely. And all of this undercut by the fact that both really wanna fuck each other, only adding to the frustration of your pleasure being taken away. 
Though your body reels regretfully from the sudden drop in adrenaline, it’s with an unmoved expression on your face that you sit up, making yourself level with him. 
“What?” you retort derisively, amused to find him upset at tactics you only know because he modeled them for you so many times before. “Does it make you mad?”
“No,” he answers, a fierce expression on his face that lets you know despite the desire radiating between the two of you that he’s being serious when he says, “It makes me question the type of person you are.”
And as you poke his chest assertively, you reply, “A person abiding by the standards that you set,” reminding him once more how he lacks the right to feel entitled to your body. 
You again question why he continues to insist that a no-strings attached arrangement is what he wants when it’s clear he doesn’t want you with anyone else.
And so, it’s in your confusion that you ask, “I’m giving you exactly what you want. So why does it feel like you’re punishing me?”
“This isn’t what I want,” he says in reply. And the way that he says it almost quietly, like a stream-of-consciousness that was accidentally blurted out loud, has you inclined to believe that maybe, he’s finally coming around to seeing just how poorly suited this arrangement is for the both of you.
So, it’s with a curious tilt to your voice that you ask, “Then what do you want?”
Looking at you with a sort of urgent, unyielding expression on his face, it’s after a moment of intense and searing silence between the two of you that he leans in to kiss you roughly. What was once a moment of willful competition between the two of you now becomes intense and panicked as the passion of the last few moments takes over your bodies. 
Your hands move in a frenzy as you rush to take off one another’s clothes, and you get the feeling that had the fabric provided any real obstacle, you both would’ve been willing to rip each other’s pants and tops off. Actualizing your desire for one another becomes the most important and serious task to have ever been endeavored upon.
You’ve only just removed your final article of clothing when Leehan crawls between your legs, finding you soaked and pulsing in anticipation of his touch. Noticing this, he can feel himself going crazy with all of the unanswered questions he has about you and Taesan. He finds himself vocalizing these thoughts shamelessly as he mumbles, “Fuck, Y/N. I need you to be honest with me. Because if someone else has had this pussy, I’m gonna go crazy.”
“Make me come, and I’ll give you a straight answer,” you defiantly reply.
Tired of your games, it’s in expression of his growing impatience that Leehan slaps your pussy uncaringly. The act sends a jolt of shock through your body but especially your clit, making you moan in a mixture of both pain and pleasure. 
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says, and rather than being amused by his insistence like you were before, it's for the first time that you find yourself intimidated, as well as turned on. “Tell me the truth.”
Leehan has always been the leader in your sexual dynamic, but you’d never describe him as rough or dominant until now. Rattled by the change, you aren’t able to manage a reply to his demand, but it’s then that Leehan raises himself up so that your faces are level. 
Making sure to keep his eyes on yours this time, he pushes three fingers inside of your aching cunt — more than you’ve ever taken from him and enough to have your eyes rolling back upon impact.
“Tell me that this pussy is mine,” he demands as he fucks you open with his fingers. You’ve never seen him this fired-up, this crazed, and it has you more turned on and pliant than you think you’ve ever been before. 
His fingers thrust in and out of you with strength you’ve never felt before, and in an amount of time that you find to be pathetic, you can feel your stomach tensing with an approaching climax, moans leaving your mouth with every breath and every curl of his fingers. 
But for the second time tonight, Leehan notices you’re about to come and rips it away from you by withdrawing his fingers entirely. And unlike before, you can’t pretend not to be dismayed as you whimper wistfully at the loss of contact. Leehan, unamused, only stares at you from above and says with finality in his tone, “Tell me the truth, and I’ll make you come.”
You can see now how serious he’s being, how important this is to him, and though you find it entirely irrational, the pulsing of arousal in your body is too strong to ignore. 
“I never fucked him. He never touched me until today.”
“And anyone else besides him?”
“There’s no one else, Leehan,” you assure him, body wracked with the weight of several heavy breaths as you practically beg for him to believe you, to touch you, to relieve the almost painful aching of your cunt. “Just you.”
You’re pleasantly surprised when he doesn't require any additional scrutiny before accepting your answer at face value, muttering an approving “Good girl,” before diving between your legs.
And you guess by the almost hungry, desperate way he then proceeds to eat you out that his easy acceptance of your word is just as much in service to his own desire to taste you as it is to you and your enjoyment. 
Because you find not just in this instance but always that Leehan gives head like his survival is dependent on your arousal. He licks and sucks and mouths at your clit, moaning languidly into your core like it's the best thing he’s ever tasted. 
And as if that’s not enough to have you reeling, he brings his hand out from underneath your thigh and puts two long, crooked fingers back into your dripping hole, thrusting and curling them inside of you like he’s intent on finding the spot that will make you scream. You throw your head back and close your eyes at the feeling that washes over your body, something like electricity pulsing through you and making your legs shake. 
Without intending it, your hips buck against his tongue in chase of your impending orgasm. And when he flattens the wet muscle, allowing you the agency to take your pleasure rather than him having to give it to you, it’s only seconds later when you feel your abdomen contracting with the intensity of your long awaited orgasm. 
You’ve barely recovered from the high of your climax when you hear Leehan saying tauntingly from above you, “See? No one else can do that as good as I can.” He then spreads your legs apart, admiring the mess he’s made of you, slick turning your inner thighs shiny and wet. ”Don’t you know now why you shouldn’t fuck anyone else?
Refusing him the satisfaction of an answer, your only response is to sit up and tell him, “Lay down. I wanna ride you.
Leehan’s only show of resistance to this request is a raise of his eyebrow, but he’s otherwise pliant as you maneuver on the couch so that he’s flat on his back. You hover just below his hard-as-a-rock erection, realizing you should go and get a condom, but it feels like an ultimate test of both your honesty that you assertively inform him, “I’m on birth control.”
Understanding what you mean to imply with this admission, you watch as Leehan’s eyes gloss over, another wave of lust taking over at the notion of having raw sex. In a distant part of your brain that isn’t completely corrupted by wanting, you wonder if this is a good idea given that you have no way of proving whether he’s been honest about his sexual history with other girls.
But as you unconsciously scoot closer and allow his cock to brush against your folds, his encouragement of “Then sit on it,” ringing pleasantly in your ears, the only thing that delays you is your desire to further tauny him. 
“Look at me,” you command passionately, holding on just barely to your own composure as you fight to get these words out amidst your own lust-corrupted brain. “If you stop, I stop. I want you to look in my eyes when I make you come.”
Leehan, either ignorant to how serious you’re being or uncaring, whimpers out your name in lieu of any indication that he understands and accepts what you’re saying. You sink down on him anyway and allow the feeling of being filled to the brim by his long, veiny cock to wipe out any and all thoughts out of your mind. 
“Oh my god, fuck,” he mumbles out in expression of how good it feels, after you’ve only just began bouncing your body up and down his cock. You bear witness to the moment when the embrace of your tight walls becomes too much for him and he throws his head back, disregarding your words from earlier. 
And although it hurts you to do so, makes your thighs burn and your lips part to let out a regretful whimper, you pull yourself upwards until his cock slips out of you completely.
“Open your eyes,” you demand assertively, not just for his sake but for your own, so that you can go back to riding the life out of him until you both can come. “Show me why you deserve this. Remind me why I keep letting you fuck me.”
The scathing remark and the brazen expression you wear as you say it causes Leehan to regain his focus, returning his gaze to yours and making sure to maintain it even as your reinsertion of his cock has him fighting not to shut his eyes closed. It’s with a feeling of regretful foreboding that Leehan realizes this is probably going to end way too soon, that the sickening combination of you riding him, your dominant and sultry words, the view of your body from above him, and the intense unbroken eye contact all work in service to his quickly approaching climax. 
And even as you too feel yourself inching closer and closer to the point of incomprehensible return, you keep talking, feelings that you’ve been suppressing for too long coming out in sultry, brokenly-spoken expressions. “I want you to savor this moment. Memorize how it feels to be inside of me,” you tell him, and then, leaning down to bite the tip of his ear, you whimper, “Fuck Leehan. You’re so big.”
Your purposeful usage of all the things you know for a fact rile him up the most is not lost on him, and it’s almost like you want him to come as quickly and embarrassingly as possible. He lingers on that thought for less than a few seconds, but even just the fleeting idea of spilling his seed inside of you has his brain entering a whole nother level of depraved and uncontrolled, until he’s muttering out the word “Fuck,” in repeated succession and thrusting up into you wildly. “Gonna come,” he announces only seconds later.
“I know you are, baby. And when you do, remember that I can only make you feel this good,” you reply, surprised at your own ability to sound assured and in control in the midst of your own fast-approaching orgasm. But in a way, it feels like you grow more confident the more you watch his verbal and motor skills deteriorate with every bounce and squeeze of your pussy against his cock. 
Making grunting sounds as his thrusts become sloppy and uncontrolled, he replies through gritted teeth, “I know. You’re my favorite girl, Y/N.”
You’ve always hated that term because of the implication it makes that there are other girls with whom he's comparing you to. But as you commit to fighting off all of the weak, vulnerable, sad emotions that have now only rendered you numb, it’s in another show of control that you reply, “Then say it. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”
At first, you aren’t sure if Leehan can even manage a reply as you watch him grow focused and intent on his approaching orgasm. But it’s through a mixture of muffled grunts and whines, his hips never ceasing their thrusts into you, that he begins to speak.
“Your pussy was made for me. It’s all I ever think about. The sex we have – nghh – it’s the best I’ve ever had,” he tells you emphatically. 
And the brokenness of his words, the way they come out rushed and passionate as if a suppressed part of him needs you to hear them, has you feeling profoundly impacted by the weight of them. 
“You make me crazy, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. Only you—” 
It’s with one final rough, definitive thrust that Leehan comes inside of you. You’re overcome by the feeling of his hot, warm cum filling your walls, pussy clenching around him as you too experience another orgasm. And as you both recover from your highs, you can feel the atmosphere becoming almost instantaneously stuffy and awkward, the realization of what just happened and all of the things you allowed to come out in the heat of the moment hitting you all at once.
Wanting nothing more than to be released from the clutches of this regretful moment, you pull yourself off of him and wince at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and onto your inner thighs, some of it spilling onto the couch. 
And without ceremony, Leehan does what he does best – he gathers his clothes and things and begins to put them on as if nothing happened.
The silence that overcomes the two of you as you sit naked and uncovered on the opposite couch, watching him change, is unlike either of you. You’d usually at the very least manage  a few words about how good that was, or small talk about anything fun happening soon on campus. Had Leehan been any good with silence, he might’ve just walked out and not said anything to you at all. 
But it’s because of his own manipulative and egotistical desire to continue to remain in your good graces that he says, in desperation to ease the tension, “Hey. By the way, I’m sorry about the picture I sent you. I don’t usually read your messages, so I didn’t see what you had sent me beforehand.”
You stare at him, a mixture of disbelief and hostility coming over you all at once.
Having completely forgotten about the dick picture incident until now, you feel the emotions from then coming back up in a way that feels shocking given the relative inoffensiveness of his apology just now.
It’s hard for you to pinpoint what exactly about the statement sets you off. 
Maybe it’s that you just had the most intimate, soul-baring sex, and now he’s basically back to reminding you of just how little he values you and your personhood. 
How easy it is for him to completely ignore anything you say to him if it has nothing to do with him and his own pleasure.
And with these emotions more than likely reflected on your face, you watch as Leehan — like a startled deer in headlights — makes what are perhaps the quickest efforts he’s ever done to leave your dorm in a hurry.
“I should get back,” he’s replying coldly as he gets up, throwing his jacket over his body so fast that it folds awkwardly along his sides. “But thanks for this.”
This, he says casually. As if his seed isn’t currently wetting the inside of your legs right now.
“But Leehan, the rain—” you insist. Because you can hear thunder rattling your windows outside and you know that to walk home to his apartment is an entirely irrational notion.
“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, already halfway to your door as he turns around to look at you, something like regret painted all over his passive expression. “We don’t do that for each other, remember?
And it’s with that last parting, ominous statement that you watch Leehan leave your dorm room without another look in your direction. He’s left your room like this — in a hasty blur without a word or an acknowledgement — more times than you can possibly count. 
So why you find yourself overcome with the feeling that this may be the last time you’ll ever see him again, you’re not entirely sure. 
But it’s because of that gnawing, persistent feeling, eating at you like it never has before, that you get up and find a robe to throw over your body so that you can go and find Leehan before it’s too late.
You’re not even sure of what you’re going to say when you find him standing on the outside porch of your building, head down and phone in his hand as he waits for an Uber. All you know is that it’s pouring buckets outside and even with the bit of roofing over your heads, the wind still blows rain onto your bodies, rendering his hair and face wet. 
“Leehan,” you call out, watching as he turns to you and automatically freezes up as he realizes you followed him out here. “Wait. Don’t go.”
It’s at least a little bit understandable why Leehan appears taken-aback by your words and your presence — any other time you’ve had sex, you’ve never once tried to get him to stay behind, even though he could always notice in your expression or quiet intensity that you wanted him to.
So the fact that you’re here telling him not to go, and because of the nature of the sex you just had, it’s like he already knows that you’re planning to pour your heart out to him, and it’s in fear of that that he finds himself saying wearily, “Y/N—”
“No. Let me talk,” you assert before he can finish, a part of you feeling like if you don’t get these words out now, you never will. And so, fueled by the unexplainable feeling that this may be the last chance for you to tell him how you feel, you channel all the confidence you can possible muster and allow all the suppressed emotions from the last three months to spill out without any filter.
“After we have sex, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay because you like being with me. I want you to fall asleep with me. I want you to see me and treat me like I’m a human being and not some physical object that you use for sex and nothing else,” you exclaim with a self-pitying scoff.
“And I tried being the chill girl who just goes along with things that are casual. But Leehan, you make me feel things that no one ever has, and it’s not just the sex. For the past few months…it’s felt like my life only truly felt worth living if you were noticing me.”
You can plainly tell by Leehan’s stiff body language and overall lack of reaction that this entire spiel is making him uncomfortable. And as discouraging as the reaction is, now that you’ve started, it feels like you can’t stop until he knows everything that he’s put you through to get to this point.
“And maybe I only feel that way because when we fuck, it’s not like some one-night-stand or throwaway shit. It truly feels like I’m baring my soul to you. And I know that it’s not one sided,” you remark with confidence. Because being in bed with Leehan is the only time when you feel like you can truly understand him. It’s when your hearts, minds, and bodies are in sync and you can both be at your most vulnerable with each other.
“But then you leave, just like you’re doing now. And it makes me feel like the most massive piece of shit you can possibly imagine,” you mumble out with a broken, wet laugh.
Coming to the end of your spiel, you let your arms come down to your sides defeatedly, and with one last imploring look to Leehan’s blank and starry eyes, you ask the question that has been haunting you for the better part of three months now. “So what I guess I want to know is…what is it that’s stopping you from going all in with me? Is it that I’m just…not enough for you to want anything more than sex?” you question, insecurities that have been welling up for so long coming out in a way that has your voice sounding broken. “Or are you just too scared of commitment to allow yourself to feel loved?
“Because that’s exactly what I feel for you. And god dammit, Leehan, but I’m almost 80% sure you feel that way for me too.”
When you’re sure that there’s nothing else left to say and that you got everything you wanted to explain out, it’s with a relieving sigh that your body expels the weight of three months’ worth of pain, sadness, and thoughts of worthlessness. 
And because you know it must be a lot to be on the receiving end of the heaviness of those words, it’s not surprising that the next few seconds after you finish speaking are filled by silence. Watching Leehan stare at you intensely, you allow him the time and the grace to process what he’s heard before you jump to assuming the worst of his silence. 
But then, his first words to you hit you like an icy blast of wind. 
“Y/N, you’re a good person. And the time we’ve spent together has been so much fun for me. But this has always been just that for me…fun. Sex,” he says unambivalently, framing the words delicately though it does nothing to prevent them from hitting you like a freight train. “And I’m sorry if I ever did or said anything that gave you an impression otherwise.
“But honestly, Y/N…” he continues, looking away from you and losing the ability to sugarcoat his thoughts as he expresses, “I told you from the forefront what this was. Why did you say yes if it wasn’t what you wanted?”
He asks a valid question that you unfortunately don’t have the answer to. Because honestly, what were you thinking? Looking back at that moment when he first proposed this arrangement, you have to wonder what possessed you to be delusional enough to think that this would possibly end well.
As embarrassing and humiliating it is to admit, it’s the sex. All those times he told you he desired you, how beautiful you were, how much he wanted you, made you feel like maybe he just didn’t know what he wanted. That eventually he’d come around.
“Because I didn’t think that it was that important to you,” you tell him, feeling your confidence shrinking in real time as your voice comes out quiet and whiny. “I thought…I thought you were changing your mind.”
“I don’t think we should keep doing this, Y/N,” he declares in reply, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. “I like you a lot, but I can’t continue on if I know you have the expectation that this is gonna blossom into something more. I’m sorry, but it’s just not.”
And with that last sobering pronouncement, Leehan runs a hand through his hair, an obviously fake chuckle let out of his lips as he seeks to break the awkwardness of this atmosphere. “This really wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he mumbles out apologetically, and the way that he stands there stiffly lets you know he wants nothing else than to get away from you right now. 
And sure enough, the sound of a notification going off draws both of your attention to his phone. Like a final dagger to your heart and self-esteem, he’s not even able to hide the relief that floods his expression as he announces, “My Uber’s here, so I just…goodbye, Y/N.”
You watch Leehan step off the porch and into the rain, the lack of light and storm clouds rendering him into nothing more but a blurry, gray silhouette. 
It’s how you will more than likely remember Leehan as you watch him enter the white Mazda that pulls into the driveway. 
Watch the car drive off knowing that you will more than likely never see him again.
He will forever be immortalized in your brain as the stormy force of a presence that came into your life like a tornado, wrecking everything around it and exiting like nothing happened, leaving you a splintered mess of a world to clean up for yourself.
You will be just another Natty, someone Leehan offhandedly mentions to his friends in the car with whoever he chooses to be his next victim, someone he spent a good few weeks with only to never mention them again.
“You’re an enigma, Kim Leehan,” you declared with sincerity. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend either. No offense.”
“None taken,” he replied with breezy indifference, bringing his hand to lay over the one you have on his face. “But don’t say that so easily. You don’t know me well enough yet.”
You rolled your eyes at yet another show of cockiness from him. “And are you saying if I did, I would fall for you?”
Even as his expression remained passive, he replied forebodingly, “Isn’t that usually how these things end?”
He was right.
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The next two months of not seeing, talking, or hearing from Leehan go by in a gray-ish, incomprehensible blur.
You complete your classes, managing a passing GPA and thankfully holding on to your scholarship.
You go out to lunch and on study dates with your mutual friends, neglecting to explain why you always need to know who else is coming before you agree to going out.
You attend a couple parties and events on campus, wondering each time whether you’ll run into Leehan and not sure if the rigid feeling over your chest is because of hopefulness or fear at the idea of possibly seeing him. 
And as you pack up your things to get ready to move out for the winter, it feels like you should be over this by now. You spent three months together. Tumultuous, but still only three – it doesn’t seem to make sense why you still feel so hurt.
But you’re now learning that situationships are the hardest to comprehend in their aftermath because it’s hard to know what exactly it is that you’re feeling wistful towards. Leehan isn’t your ex, but he’s also not a friend whom you simply grew apart from. 
He’s another third thing that you can’t quite capture, making it difficult for you to reminisce on your exciting yet tainted memories with one another.
It’s with these thoughts running through your mind that you finish packing your last few items of furniture, readying them to be stowed away in the back of a U-Haul you rented for the day. 
And with your dorm now basically empty, your roommate having moved out a few days before, you can’t help but to view it nostalgically from the vantage point of your doorway, memories of this semester’s escapades coming back to you all at once.
The dresser that you let Leehan stash his condoms in.
Your cheap bed whose loose, metal springs always robbed you of any chance at secrecy in your interactions. 
Moving towards your kitchenette, you stare silently at the flowers he gifted you that one day, still alive despite several weeks of neglect. The little cardboard fish he stuck between the petals makes it appear almost like they’re swimming among colorful, sagging coral reefs.
Your eyes flit over to your couch, where you didn’t know at the time would be the last place he fucked you before he’d never talk to you again.
Going over these memories in your mind, it makes sense then why when you hear a knock resounding on your door, the first thing you think of is Leehan.
But surely, you’re just caught up in the emotions caused by the sudden moment of reflection; it has to be an RA, or a neighbor about to ask if they can borrow a broom and dustpan.
When you go to open your door, you don’t consider for a second that on the other end could be the one person you’re not prepared to see right now.
So when it swings open and you’re greeted by a straight-faced, wide-eyed Leehan, whose body is relaxed against the side of your door, it feels like all of the air is knocked out of your body.
“Hi,” he says plainly, straightening his posture when he sees you staring at him staggeringly. To say that you feel conflicted as you take in his handsome, tall form would be beyond an understatement. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since you’ve seen each other, and it’s almost like he could tell you right now that he’s here because he wants to fuck you and it would feel normal, like nothing has changed between the two of you.
But even in just making that mental observation, you feel angry and resentful that such a dynamic was normalized among the two of you for so long that you convinced yourself it was okay to be treated that way.
And as you stew in those feelings of renewed bitterness and frustration, you find yourself suddenly and strongly opposed to him being here, asking bluntly, “What is this? Why are you here?”
“I’m here to apologize,” he answers with an imploring look, and habitually you study his expressions in the hopes of discerning whether he’s being sincere or not.
But it’s with a feeling of resignation that you realize how done you are with trying to constantly read his mind and understand what motivates his decisions.
Because the same way there’s a chance that he really did show up here with good intentions, there’s just as equal a chance that he wants you to trust him again so that he can get his dick wet.
And so, in a move that brings you an immature level of satisfaction, you close the door on his face without another word.
You hear him exclaiming loudly “Y/N, wait!” on the other side of the door but you’ve already made up your mind, deciding that whatever he has to say isn’t worthy of your time or attention.
You’re done with his manipulative behavior, with his aloofness and undeserved self-assuredness, but most of all you’re tired of being made to feel like shit. And that’s all he ever did in those few months that you were sleeping together.
As you retreat to your bedroom, you go to return to packing your things, but the adrenaline from the passing moment makes your hand shake and your body pulse energetically. You need a second to pause and breathe and process what’s just happened, to walk around and pace away all of this unresolved energy. 
But then you turn around to go back out into your living room, and that’s when you see Leehan standing right outside the arch of your bedroom doorway.
“Jesus fucking christ, Leehan!” you exclaim in a mixture of both surprise, frustration, and confusion as you wonder whether he broke in or if you—
“You left the door unlocked,” he replies calmly, and even though he knows he has a lot to make up for, he still can’t help the smirk that comes to his face as he jokes, “Kinda 101 not to do that if you don’t want someone coming in. That’s like me leaving the filter of my fish tank —”
“Get out, Leehan. Get out! I have nothing left I want to say to you!” you shout, impatient and uncaring to his jokes and his dimples and everything else about him that used to charm you. It’s all meaningless to you now, and you don’t care if you look crazy or unhinged when you go to physically push him out of your dorm.
But even with the nonchalant, noncommittal way he holds onto your wrist to restrain you, you still only manage to move him a few steps, much to your dismay and rage.
And so, in a heat-of-the-moment, emotionally driven decision, you move to close your bedroom door on his face. While successful in keeping him out of your bedroom, you don’t even realize until seconds later that he’s still free to roam in your hallway, kitchenette, and living room, while you’ve essentially just locked yourself in.
Predictably, you can hear Leehan chuckling outside of your door as he makes this same realization.
“You know, if it was your goal to get me to leave, then I’m not sure locking yourself in your room really…” he begins to say, not able to keep the amusement out of his voice at the foolish mistake on your part. But, remembering the reason why he came here in the first place, he tones it down to say soberly, “Nevermind. It doesn't matter.”
You walk over to the side of your bedroom that’s opposite from the doorway, sitting down on the floor, determined to tune out whatever it is that Leehan is about to say. Maybe if you stay silent and let him tire himself out, he’ll eventually leave knowing that there’s nothing he can say to make up for how he’s made you feel.
“I”m not super good at explaining myself, or talking at all, honestly. I go on tangents and my mind is just…a giant fucking minefield. So I wrote down what I wanted to tell you.”
Leehan’s voice is distorted but nonetheless able to be heard clearly through the thin wood that makes up your door, so much so that you can clearly hear the crumpling noises of a paper being unraveled as he starts to read. 
“If you’re listening to me read this, it’s because I somehow managed to convince you to hear me out. Either that, or I broke into your dorm, which feels like the more likely option,” he says with almost no emotion behind the words, and against your own discipline, you can feel your lips twitching into a smirk automatically in reaction to his strange, off putting way of speaking.
“I know my insistence can come off as crass given how shitty of a person I’ve been to you. But I knew that today was move-out day, and I needed you to hear me out before you left.”
You hear him take a deep breath before continuing with the next part of his speech. “As you know, I’m a pretty fearless person. But when it comes to admitting my feelings for you, I’ve had a much harder time. Truthfully, since I met you, it’s been because of my own immaturity that I’ve seen other girls romantically. Even though I always knew my feelings for you were different, I pushed them away in the hopes of avoiding having to commit to anyone. When you told me how you really felt for me, truthfully, it scared me. I didn’t want to know what my life would look like if I decided to be with just one person.
“I thought that by rejecting you, by being away from you for this long, that my feelings for you would go away,” he remarks with the same sort of unfeeling, neutral tone to his voice, as if he knows the explanation behind his actions is unimportant given how they’ve impacted you. “I wanted to view you as just another name on a long list.”
But it’s with his next words that passion and sincerity and longing bleed into his voice all at once to say, “But it’s taken me this time of being away from you to realize that…I’m still not over you.”
After minutes of hanging onto his every word despite every inclination that has been telling you to do otherwise, it’s those last five words that hit you like a freight train. 
And you know it’s foolish and dumb to be believing anything that comes out of his mouth anymore, but you suppose it’s no different from all of the other times you continued to let him in even when he showed you so many times why you shouldn’t. 
Your reasoning remains the same – you just feel an irrational pull to him that is all-consuming, your heart connected to his in a way you can’t control. 
And it doesn’t help that everything he says next is all of the affirmation you’ve been wanting and needing him to give you throughout your entire time of sleeping together. “You deserve someone that’s going to treat you with respect. Someone that makes you feel loved and beautiful and desired. Someone with the courage to be vulnerable and who will care for you in your most vulnerable moments. And I’m sorry if you felt like you didn’t have that with me,” he remarks, and you don’t even realize you’ve been holding your breath throughout his spiel until your chest literally contracts from the lack of air to your lungs.
“But if you can find some way to forgive me, then I want to make us work,” he asserts pleadingly. And with the finality that it feels like follows that statement, you get the feeling that what he says next is no longer being read off the paper. 
Especially when you can hear what you think is the top of his head, leaned against the door with a small thunk as he quietly laments, “I want you, Y/N. Not just sexually, but for everything that makes you who you are. It’s always been you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” 
It’s quiet after that, so much so that you can hear his small and broken breaths being let out against the wall. You hear what you think is the sound of his hand being brought up to rest next to his head. And as the feeling of being pulled in so many directions takes over you, your heart in a heated battle with your brain, it’s after a few moments of silence that you stand up and walk over towards the door. 
Leehan, observing the shadows of your footsteps through the little gap at the bottom of the door, perks up when it’s just a thin barrier of wood that keeps you from being face-to-face with one another.
You prepare yourself to be annoyed when you open the door in expectation that he will be his usual unreadable, unserious self. 
But it’s in surprise but also a little relief that what you find when you face him is the expression of a man who’s truly understood the gravity of his mistakes and feels shameful over them.
“You look really pretty,” he blurts out, the suddenness of the remark almost betraying your slowly but surely growing feelings of understanding towards him. But you also can’t help that his random candor makes you laugh, reminded of some of your earlier interactions as he sheepishly says, “Sorry, bad timing.”
Still standing a fair distance away from him, the tip of your toes just barely meeting the tip of his as you look down at them to avoid eye contact, you attempt to ease the tension of the moment with a shy but truthful, “Thank you, Leehan. For the compliment and for the apology.”
You can feel the heat of his gaze as he tilts his head to stare at you, his attention feeling hopeful but not in a way that makes you feel pressured, but in a way that has you compelled to be completely vulnerable and honest with him.
“I’m just…really scared that you’ll hurt me,” you confess somberly, and it still feels strange to even say things like this to him because you’ve spent so much time suppressing your negative emotions when it comes to Leehan. Scared that you’d lose his approval and feeling like you needed such approval to feel good about yourself.
But over time as your relationship progressed and you found yourself little by little regaining the sense of self that your interactions with Leehan robbed you of, you were able to realize that you didn’t deserve to be treated like an afterthought, like an object only useful if it was giving satisfaction to someone else.
And it was in resentment that over these two months of not speaking you felt like Leehan believed that, too.
But now after hearing him explain himself and believing genuinely that he wants to be with you, you now battle with the parts of you that are scared to believe him in fear of getting hurt and the parts of you that so badly also want to be in a relationship with him.
“I’m not scared,” he tells you, the confidence you’ve come to know him for coming out more strongly than ever before. “I’ve got you, remember?”
He then goes to place his two middle fingers underneath your chin, pushing your jaw upward so that you’re forced into eye contact. Staring into his endless and piercing eyes, it’s for the first time that you feel like you understand him in a non-sexual context. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” you mumble quietly in reply.
And it’s as you feel your lips twitching into a content smile that Leehan leans in to kiss you, and you accept the gesture without question.
five months later
“I wanna go half on a baby with you.”
These are the words that Leehan remarks to your sleeping form as you lay comfortably beside him in bed, sleeping but getting roused into attention by the faint sound of his voice.
“A fish baby, of course,” he clarifies, though you don’t even register what he’s saying as you remain half-asleep. “I think the ones in my tank are getting lonely.”
It’s hard to tell sometimes whether Leehan is musing out loud to himself or talking directly to you, but either way, the deep tone of his voice wakes you up just the same. 
You lay on your stomach, opening one eye to find him sitting up on his elbow and staring down at you with a curious expression on his face. His hand, resting on your back, draws unintelligible figures on the skin that’s left uncovered by your night shirt. 
All in all, it's a pretty domestic, intimate scene, had you not glanced over at your phone to find how early it was.
“Leehan, it’s seven a.m,” you complain to your boyfriend who still just stares dreamily at your sleepy figure. “What are you yapping about?”
Too familiar with your morning grumpiness to be phased by it, it’s with an unmoved expression that Leehan casually replies, “Just about how much I want a baby with you.”
When you hear those words come out of Leehan’s mouth, you’re sure you must still be asleep and that this is just an incredibly vivid dream. Either that, or you’re dating the strangest person in the world. 
Given that both realities are entirely plausible, it’s in your tiredness and confusion that you sit up from the bed completely, staring at a relaxed Leehan with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think we’re a little young for that? I mean eventually, sure, but while we’re in school—”
“I was talking about fish,” he interrupts you to say, chuckling at your confused expression and giggling again when you pout at being laughed at. “But since you’re so eager, why don’t I put a baby in you right now?”
Your own laughter in reaction to his words is suppressed when he presses a large hand on your stomach, pushing you back down on the bed. He leans in to kiss you, but per usual, you refuse to make things easy for him.
Reaching behind your head, you grab a pillow and smack him in the face with it, creating a barrier between your bodies. “You’re such a weirdo,” you playfully quip, a designation he only takes in stride as he goes to throw the pillow somewhere on the floor.
“I’m your weirdo though,” he emphasizes, and it’s as you’re both smiling in satisfaction that he leans in to press his lips against yours.
And as his cold hands roam your warm body, you’re hit with a sudden wave of happiness as you acknowledge how far gone the days of having to wish for him to stay even fir minutes after you’ve had sex truly are. 
Because in the past five months since you’ve gotten together exclusively, not only is it routine for him to stay behind, but you also get to wake up together and experience these sleepy, romantic moments. 
The moments when he slowly kisses down your body, dragging his plush lips down your sternum until he’s positioned between your legs.
The moments when you pull softly at his hair as he languidly drags his tongue up and down your folds, begging you in his gruff, sleep-affected voice to come all over his face.
The moments when you could be sponning sideways, on top of him, or below him and he’ll still find a way to spread your legs apart, pressing his long, veiny cock inside of you until you’re overwhelmed by how full you are. 
The moments where his tiredness renders him impatient and he fucks into you so roughly that you can barely form words. 
The moments when he kisses you lazily through every thrust until the sex becomes so good that all you can manage is the occasional swipe of your tongue against his lips or a whimper into his mouth.
The moments when you reach your climax together and he rocks his come in and out of you like he never intends on pulling out.
The moment when you moan out his name, understanding why when you first met he insisted that to know it was a privilege. That to know him is a privilege.
And finally, your favorite, the moments when you either fall back asleep in each other’s hold or get up to shower the sleepiness and sweat off of each other. 
Today is one of those days that you relent to getting up and showering, convinced only by the fact that neither of you has a morning class, making it a perfect day to visit the pet shop conveniently located just a few miles from your college town.
“What about this one?” 
You turn to face Leehan in the fish tank lined aisle of the pet store, lips curling into a smile as you observe him pressing his face up to the glass in awe. As you come up to his side to view the brown-colored fish that have him so captivated, it’s in a surge of honesty that you reply, “Don’t you think they’re kind of…ugly?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend gasps dramatically in reaction to your words, even brushing his hand against the fish tank in a gesture akin to patting someone's head. “They can hear you, you know. I’m so sorry, fishies.”
Ignoring his childishness, you look around at the surrounding fish and sigh as you’re overwhelmed by all the different options. “Honestly, Leehan, you should just pick one. They all look the same to me.”
“But it should be something we both like,” he answers with a pout, circling the aisles a few more times before finally stopping at a tank in the very corner. 
Inside of it are an array of multi-colored fish, but the one that stands out to you is an entirely white one with a patch of vibrant red at the top of its head. 
It would be indistinguishable from a goldfish had it not been for its striking color and the appendage that looks almost like an inside-out brain on its head. 
A label beside the tank reads Oranda. 
“What about this one?” asks Leehan in curiosity, and in an almost alarming way, he points out the exact same fish you were just eyeing. 
You come around to the other side of the tank to view it from another angle, giggling innocently when you make eye-contact with Leehan through the distorted lens of the water. “It’s pretty,” you remark simply, and because Leehan has come to know you so well, he knows that the simple attribution is a sign of high praise from you.
“Should we make it ours?” he asks you officially, and though you’re certain that this is the fish you’ve been looking for, there’s one question popping up in your brain that you still can’t find the answer to.
“What should we name it?”
You both take a beat to ponder on the question. Leehan chimes in first, blurting out, “I know. Loony.”
At this, you scoff, unsure as to where he would have gotten such an idea from. “Are you trying to say that our child is crazy?” you quip in feigned offense. 
“No. It’s short for lunar eclipse. That’s when I knew we were gonna be more than just a one night stand,” he tells you sincerely, and with that context you find yourself becoming quickly attached to both the name and the fish who you take home in a plastic bag only moments later.
You allow Leehan to take the lead in homing Loony, a process that involves lots of complicated jargon about adjusting the water temperature and changing the salinity that you mostly pretend to understand as he explains it to you. 
And when you are finally able to sit side by side in front of the tank and watch through the glass as Loony swims among the other fish, it’s with an adoring tone of voice that you hear Leehan say, “It’s pretty, awesome, right?”
At the sound of his voice, you turn to face him, and without being entirely conscious of it, you simply take in his features and how content he looks to be here, with you and with these fishes.
“Yeah,” you reply, laying down and resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s awesome.”
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taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amerecerasus @cadidupped @suhovhs @lionhanie @taesanmoon @revelettre @s9nwoo @brachioswrld @moneygal0re @karatttttt
thank you all sm for your support on this fic <3 your reactions, feedback, and compliments have meant the world
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malliluvs · 1 year ago
Text
begging for attention
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♡ ellie williams x f! bratty reader
♡ ellie has been ignoring you all week, and you're needy. after watching her lay down for a nap after an intense workout, you see it as your time to strike
18+!!
warnings!
teasing, edging, cursing, smoking, ellie being really rough and mean :( , oral r!receiving / giving, light spanking? , hair pulling, after care, mostly smut, kind of hardcore
word count: 1.7k
you watched from the side of the small at home gym ellie had created for herself in the garage. you fidgeted in your seat as you watched ellie workout. her breasts straining against the her shirt, and her ass looked so good in those tights.
you tried to distract yourself from the ever growing aching from your core. ellie hadn't touched you in almost a week now, and she refused to tell you why. you could always pleasure yourself, but her fingers were bigger than yours, and she knew all the right ways to make you crumble.
ellie's muscles stretched against the fabric of her compression shirt. with every bench press she did, she gritted her teeth. a low growl emanated from the depths of her throat, a bead of sweat ran down her chin.
you were so used to ellie spoiling you, getting you whatever you wanted and touching you whenever you asked. it was frustrated for her to suddenly rip it all away and give you the bare minimum.
you felt hurt, but when you yelled at her for it, a smirk adorned her face. that's when you knew...
... this was her game.
she wanted you to beg for her attention, but you wouldn't do that. no. you'd take it.
-
ellie laid down on your shared bed, laying in a bra and some jeans. after her workout, she just wanted to relax and get high. her arm rested on her inner thigh, her legs spread open on the bed. she took a drag from her blunt, blowing out the smoke, her head leaning against the headboard
you snuck up between her open legs, leaning against her inner thigh. ellie felt a smirk pull at her lips, but she held it in and continued to ignore you.
this pissed you off.
you gave her the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, but ellie wouldn't even spare a glance at you. instead of saying anything, you started to unzip her pants. ellie raised an eyebrow, but instead of interfering she wanted to see where this was gonna go.
ellie grabbed her phone, taking another drag of her blunt before unlocking her phone, scrolling on it aimlessly.
you swallowed an annoyed growl, but you couldn't help the ache in your core that you had been shoving down since this morning. you pulled her pants down just enough, and pulled her panties to the side, kissing her clit.
ellie gritted her teeth a took a deep breath, intent on ignoring you.
you sucked on her clit gently, looking up at her facial expressions.
ellie let out a guttural growl, closing her eyes, she moved her hips against your mouth, trying to fight that feeling. you continued to tease her, she had to break soon.
eventually ellie let out a loud groan as she sat up, gripping you hair and pulling your face up to her level. you smirked.
you got your way.
"you're a fucking brat, a slutty one at that." she growled, before suddenly shoving your face into the mattress.
"put your ass up, bitch." she said in your ear, her voice guttural and filled with irritation. before you could even move she placed her large, calloused hand on your stomach, pushing it up, forcing you on your knees.
you let out a loud yelp when she smacked your ass.
"you wanted my fucking attention right? now you're gonna get it." she said, smacking your ass again. she roughly pulled down your bottoms and panties, leaving your soaking cunt on full display.
you felt a shiver run down your back, the cool air hitting your wet core.
"god... you've been begging for me to touch you all week." ellie laughed, her voice harsh and unsympathetic. "you're such a slut for me... i can't stand it." she said, holding your legs down as her tongue ran up and down your lips, collecting the slick you've accumulated.
you let out a desperate moan, your hands gripping the sheets under you as her tongue abused your desperate cunt, her tongue moving expertly, licking you in all the right spots to make you fall apart.
"els... fuck!" you moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head.
ellie smirked, lightly sucking on your clit. "shut up and take it." use growled, the vibrations from her throaty voice sending your mind into overdrive. you could already felt your knees getting week, but ellies strong arms wrapped around your legs, spreading them so she could hit the deepest parts of you.
she stuck her tongue in your gaping hole, filling it with her longue, needy tongue, rubbing against the places you needed her the most. she rubbed your clit roughly with her hand, not interested in your own comfort.
you began to babble nonsense as your climax was approaching. ellie felt you tighten around her tongue, she knew you were close.
she pulled away, before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you up to her chest. you let out a whine.
"els pl-"
"shut the fuck up." she cut you off, her voice harsh and demanding.
she wrapped her hand around your neck, gripping it, making breathing uncomfortable, but you felt your mind go dizzy from her touch.
"you wanna cum? hm?" ellie asked, a smirk playing at her lips.
you nodded frantically. "ellie please... need.. I need... to cum... els..." you begged, you felt your slick running down your inner thigh, you couldn't do it anymore. you needed her and you needed her now.
"should I let my princess cum? hm? you think you deserve?" she said, patronizingly. you felt like you wanted to cry, you needed her so bad but she was denying you.
"yes yes yes." you repeated. "i'll be good... i'll be so good." you promised, your eyes glossed over.
ellie chuckled, before her hand slid down to your needy core, sticking three fingers in without warning. you threw your head back, letting out a loud gasp. she thrusted her fingers in rapidly, barely giving you time to breath.
"yeah... you like that don't you? oh I bet you do you little slut. you want me to fuck you senseless huh? look at you, losing your pretty little mind already."
your head rested against her shoulder, your loud moans filling the room. her words just added to your pleasure. ellie looked into your eyes, watching them roll back in your head with satisfaction. when you finally came undone, she brought her soaked fingers and pressed then against your red, pouty lips.
you were too exhausted to care, she slide her fingers in, making you clean her fingers clean.
once you had finished, she pushed you onto the bed. your head hit the pillow under you, as you looked up at ellie. she grabbed a small box from under your bed, taking out her strap. she put it on, not losing eye contact with you
she positioned herself over you. she held your leg over your shoulder. she pushed it in, she didn't even let you have time to adjust to the new length, never mind recover from your previous orgasm before she started recklessly pounding into you.
you let out a choked sob.
"els!" you moaned, your mind going blank as she hit your sweet spot over and over again, your already overstimulated core ached in a painful pleasure. you begged for her to stop, but you begged for her to keep going.
you felt those familiar butterflies in your stomach as your second orgasm of the night arrived.
"ellie... im coming..." you cried. ellie put a hand over your mouth. "shut up, you come when I tell you to." she growled.
you nodded, you already felt the tears pricking at your eyes. the sound of skin clapping and your desperate whines for release were like music to ellies ears.
"beg for it."
your eyes widened, you opened your mouth, but you barely understood what she said, your mind went blank as you focused on not letting yourself cum just yet.
"aww... is my pretty girl being fucked too dumb to understand?" she gripped your hair. "beg. for. it. you wanna come? beg for it. before I fuck those pretty lips like the slut you are."
your vision blurred as you tried to listen to ellie. you couldn't take it anymore, as you felt yourself coming on her strap. your back arched and you threw your head back.
ellie looked at you, her eyes filled with rage. she pulled out, her strap soaked with your juices.
as your mind cleared up, you realized what you did.
"did you just fucking cum?" ellie said, her tone strict and demanding. she gripped your hair, pulling you up and sitting you down in front of her strap, the tip teasing your bottom lip.
"look up at me." ellie demanded.
you looked up at her. "im sorry ellie... I... I couldn't handle it-" suddenly you were cut off by her forcing you down on her strap.
the taste of your juices mixed with the plastic you so desperately missed the taste of entered your mouth as she roughly fucked your mouth.
"I can't fucking stand sluts like you." ellie said, biting her lip at the sight. "you're not even trying to deny me. you want me to fuck you like this, this is why you've been such a fucking bratty bitch all week."
with every thrust of her hips the tip of the strap hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. spit dribbled down your chin, the tears that threatened to fall before were on full display.
"oh... is my bitch crying?" ellie said, wiping your tears.
"maybe you'll think before fucking with me again." she said, before pulling out.
you gasped for air, clinging onto her thigh. she sat down next to you, wiping the spit off your abused lips before kissing you.
"Shh... it's okay baby." she said comfortingly, rubbing your back. "you okay?" she said, smiling at you.
you nodded, as she wiped away your tears, she brought you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up.
when she laid you back down on the bed, you ran her hands through your hair comfortingly, whispering praises in your ear.
"you did so well for me."
"god... you looked so pretty." she said, while peppering your face with kisses.
she wrapped her arms around you, as you two fell asleep.
one thing you knew.
you'd be doing this again.
-
(idk if this is good but I started laughing while making this bc imagine if you had a wig and ellie pulled your hair and it just came off)
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iamasimperyk · 7 months ago
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Jealous -Rafe Cameron
Summary: You are Rafe's younger girlfriend and he introduces you to his family.
Warnings: Age gap, fluff, angst, judgy people, English is not my first language, not proofread
Pairing: Older!Rafe x Younger!Reader
A.N; I honestly don't know what this is. I had an idea but somehow, I couldn't find the right words to make it really work.
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Your parents introduced him to you at Midsummers. Rafe Cameron, son of Ward Cameron and new owner of every one of his father's companies. 
The first time his eyes found yours, he knew he had to have you, and you were naive enough to fall for his charm. He was almost ten years older than you, and for the first time in your life, you felt safe. You knew Rafe cared for you, always wanting what was best for you. 
"Don't you think it's too much?" You asked Rafe, wearing a fancy dress he just bought and all kinds of expensive jewellery he gifted you whenever he had the chance. 
Rafe looked at you, all dolled up for him. He loved it, and he loved to show you off, "You look amazing, darling. Everybody will be jealous that I get to call you mine."
Rafe's family decided to throw a party when they learned that Rafe finally found a girlfriend. You were excited to meet everyone since Rafe has met every person in your family.
"I just hope they like me," You smiled up at him, your eyes shining brightly.
He cupped your face with his hands, kissing your forehead, "I am going to marry you one day, no matter what they say."
You didn't say anything, but Rafe knew what you thought. Quickly, you reached up and kissed him before you ran back into the bathroom.
----
When the two of you arrived, everybody stared at you. Rafe wrapped his arm around you and started to introduce you to his family members. 
After an hour of talking, you excused yourself, trying to find the toilet, when you heard a group of women talking about you.
"I mean, is she even legal yet?" One of them laughed.
"I bet she is just with him because he is rich. She will never have to lift a finger since he already owns a fortune." Another one answered, shaking her head.
The whole group let out a laugh, "She will probably be pregnant soon, so he is tied to her and won't leave her again."
You didn't want to hear another of their theories and walked back to Rafe as fast as possible.
When Rafe saw you, his face immediately softened, and he wrapped his arm around your waist once again. One of the things he always did was touch you in some way. He needed to feel you to make sure you are still here.
"Are you okay, love?" Rafe asked as soon as he saw your facial expression.
You nodded, "Of course, I am fine, don't worry."
Rafe turned his attention back to his sister, whom he had previously talked to, "Would you excuse us."
Before she could answer, he pulled you into an empty room, waiting for you to start talking.
You couldn't keep your face straight anymore, and your eyes filled with tears. 
Rafe felt angry, frustrated and helpless as he saw you crying. Someone dared hurt his precious girl. 
"Darling, please tell me what happened," Rafe said, hugging you tightly while stroking your hair.
After a few more minutes, you calmed down and told Rafe about the conversation you listened to.
"Fuck them. They are jealous because they are not as beautiful as you and were at least married twice." He rolled his eyes, still fuming on the inside.
Rafe took you home immediately after your conversation and showed you just how much he loved you. 
Maybe you were younger than him, but you were one of the most mature people he ever met.
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ariisheresstuff · 1 year ago
Text
Raised Voice
Pairings: Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are visiting your boyfriend while he’s at work, unfortunately for you, you didn’t know Carmy wasn’t having the best day and he ends up taking it out on you and embarrassed you in front of the whole crew.
Genre: Angst to fluff
Warnings: Yelling, cursing, and crying
MasterList
A/N: My requests are open! Have a good day! <3
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“Yo cousin! Would ya stop being such a jag off for two fucking seconds?!?” Richie yelled across the kitchen to Carmen who was giving him a nasty scowl.
“Shut the fuck up Richie, I don’t have time for all your bullshit.” Carmy said with a attitude making Richie roll his eyes. Carmy ran his hand through his messy locks as he tried to take some deep breaths to calm himself down, but clearly that wasn’t working for him. Just the whole day has been shitty for him and he couldn’t figure out why. Carmen wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stormed off into his office slamming the door.
“There he goes again with one of his moods.” Sydney said as she was cleaning up her station. Richie walked passed her as he huffed.
“He’s been such a dick this whole day. Probably missing his girl or something.”
Sydney just nodded with a sigh as she continued to clean up while Richie took cover of the front of the restaurant.
You opened the door to the entrance and immediately smiled seeing Richie.
“A table for one?” You teased as Richie’s head quickly rose to the sound of your voice, he quickly smiled as he walked over to you.
“Y/N, thank the fucking lord you’re here.” Richie pulled you into a hug, you hugged him back but looked at him confused at what he meant by that.
“What do you mean?” You questioned as he lead through the kitchen to greet the others.
“Carmy is being a real jag off right now and pushing everyone down. I think he’s been having one of those days.”
You frowned at that, you really hated when Carmy was like this. It hurt you to see him so distraught. You gave Richie an apologetic smile as you apologized to everyone else.
“I’ll talk to him, I know how much of a hot head he can be. Especially when he’s like this.” You teased making Richie snort.
Richie gave you a quick “thank you” as he rubbed your shoulder, you gave him a soft smile before taking in a sigh and walking up to Carmy’s office door. You lifted your fist and hesitated with knocking. You took a deep breath before knocking.
“Who the fuck is it?” Carmy snarled back making you wince slightly.
“It’s me babe, Y/N.” You said with a soft tone trying not to anger him more. You heard him moving before the door opened swiftly. You looked up at your boyfriend who had the most nastiest frown on his face.
“Why are you here?” He said with attitude making you frown a bit.
“I came to see you, until Richie told me you weren’t having the best day. What’s wrong?” You asked as you raised a hand to cup his face. Softly stroking his cheek with your thumb to calm him down. You gasped softly as he immediately slapped your hand away.
“I don’t need to tell you every single fucking thing, okay?!? So stop pestering me all the damn time! It’s annoying as fuck and it’s keeping me down with work. Don’t bother me anymore I’m tired of your bullshit. Leave now, I’m dead ass serious Y/N. I’m tired of you!!!”
You flinched back as your eyes widened. Carmen just yelled at you. Like really yelled at you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You felt your throat tighten as fat tears clouded your vision. You didn’t even hear the others coming in asking what the hell just happened. You just stared at Carmy with the most heartbreaking face. You realized his facial expressions changed quickly from looking at the tears falling down your face. Before he could say anything, he heard Richie’s voice.
“What the fuck just happened here?!?” Richie roared as he stared at Carmen before looking at you. Tina pulled you into her arms as she shushed your cries bringing you outside with Sydney.
“Why the fuck would you yell at her cousin?!? She did nothing to you. I asked her to check on you and you yell at her? Now you’re a real jagoff for that cousin. That wasn’t cool.” Richie shook his head in disappointment. He turned away as he went outside to calm you down with the others.
Carmen just stood there as he processed what he just did. He fucking yelled at you. His girl, the love of his life. He yelled at you and made you cry.
“Fuck.” He said with a crack in his voice before punching the door in anger. “Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you Carmen?!? Get your fucking shit together!” He yelled at himself as he sat back down on his chair. Running his hands through his hair in frustration. He took a few deep breaths like you taught him to calm down. He cleared his throat before standing up. He took one big deep breath and exhaling before walking to the entrance to find you.
“I-I can’t believe he j-just yelled at me.” You sobbed into Tina’s chest as she rubbed your back.
“It’s okay mama, that’s just Jeff being an asshole. I know for sure he is regretting yelling at you like that.”
You hiccuped as you turned your head to look at Richie. He shook his head as he came by you and rubbed your back with Tina.
“I’m sorry Y/N. Carmy knows better. Little asshole. He especially should not be disrespectful like that towards you. His girl. Such a fucking jagoff.”
You wiped away you tears as you gave Richie a frown. “A-all I was doing was m-making sure he was o-okay.” You said with a whimper as you felt more tears fall.
Richie and Sydney were about to say something before the door opened and everyone turned their heads to stare at Carmen. Everyone gave him a look making him look down at the ground. He especially refused to look at your broken self.
“I-I I need to talk to Y/N. Alone.” He said as he looked at Richie who gave him a frown.
Richie nodded his head to the door, signaling everyone to go inside and to give Carmen and you some private time. Tina kissed your temple making you smile a bit, Sydney squeezed your hand and gave a soft smile, and Richie patted your shoulder as he nodded at you. Everyone left leaving you and Carmen alone.
You looked down at your feet refusing to look into his eyes, you didn’t even realize Carmen walked in front of you, now closer to you. He softly cupped your face making your head lift up. You had no choice but to look into his blue eyes that had sorrow in them. You felt more tears burning in your eyes. Your lip trembling. He quickly wiped the tears falling down your cheeks.
“Baby… I’m so, so, so sorry for yelling at you like that. That was such a fucking dick move of me. I should’ve never taken my anger out on you. I was just having a bad day and I know that shouldn’t be an excuse for my behaviors towards you. I just want you to know that I really love you and that I really am sorry for yelling and embarrassing you like that in front of everyone. I will never let that happen again and I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”
You hiccuped as you tried to talk but the sobs just came out that you were holding in. Carmy quickly pulled you into his arms. Comforting you like the good boyfriend he is.
“It’s okay baby. I’m so sorry, I never wanna be the reason for your tears. I love you so fucking much. I hope you know that.” Carmy kissed your head repeatedly as you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest.
“I’m sorry you h-had a bad day Carmy.” You whispered as your tears startled to settle down. You looked up at him as he gave you a sad smile at the tear stains you had on your cheeks. He cupped your face again as he leaned down to leave a long kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the touch.
“Don’t be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be sorry. You were just looking out for me and that’s what I love about you. You always makes sure I’m okay and that shows how caring you are babe. I swear I didn’t mean any of that shit. Please forgive me. Please.” Carmy whispered as he pulled your face in closer to his. Your noses touching lightly and feeling each other’s soft breaths. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you gave him a smile.
“I forgive you Carmy. But the next time you pull some shit like that again I’m gonna cut your dick off and make you eat it.” You playfully said making Carmen snort.
“I definitely don’t want that to happen. I’ll be 100% sure that I won’t pull that again on you. Never ever.” Carmen said softly with a smile as he leaned closer.
You leaned closer to feeling his lips softly touch yours. You both leaned into the kiss as you enjoyed the moment. You sighed happily while Carmen cupped your face to bring you closer to him. Completely forgetting you were outside in public.
“I love you so much Y/N, I hope you know that.” Carmen said between your lips
You giggled, “And I love you more Carmy. I always will love you.”
At that you two began to kiss more passionately. You two didn’t even notice that the crew was watching you guys the whole time through the window smiling.
“There they go sucking faces again. Jesus fucking christ! They always go at it.” Richie said as he faked gagged.
Tina smacked Richie on his arm giving him a stern look “You’re just mad because you don’t have what they have.”
“Damn!!!! Richie you just got burned!” Marcus said while Sydney and him started to cackle in the back.
Richie gave Tina an offended look making Tina chuckle.
“Man, fuck you guys!” Richie flipped them off as he pouted while they continued to laugh at him.
They didn’t even notice the two of you walking back into the restaurant hand in hand. They turned to look at the two of you.
“So, y’all made up?” Sydney said with her arms crossed.
“Yup all good, told him to never pull that shit again or I’m cutting his dick off.”
Richie choked on his soda that he was drinking before laughing out the soda. Carmen just rolled his eyes as Richie began to tease him. As long as the two of you were okay, he was okay.
Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz
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supernovafics · 9 months ago
Note
With your I’ll be there for you series would you be interested in writing about Steve discovering that he has feelings for reader? I think it would be sweet for him to just find even the silliest things she does cute and then him having a little melt down because he realised he’s liked her along. The series is such a great idea! 💭
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.4k words
warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, drunk!steve, mentions of steve's dad being shitty, angst
summary: in which steve’s drunk and you don’t hesitate to cancel a date to take care of him
author's note: thanks for the request! probably from the moment i started this series/universe i knew that i wanted to have steve realize his feelings first so this request was quite literally perfect for that lol. this is slightly “while you were sleeping” by laufey inspired hence the title. the slow burn is finally starting to come to an end !! (i’m both happy and sad about that lmao) anyways enjoy<3333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
You were in the middle of debating between a black skirt and a brown plaid one that Robin convinced you to buy when you two went thrifting just a few days ago when the phone rang.
Leaving both options on your bed, you went to the kitchen to answer it, bottomless aside from the stockings you had already put on because of the cold late February weather. 
“Hello?” 
“Hello?”
“Steve?” You recognized his voice for the most part, but he sounded a little different. A little far away, like he was calling from the oldest phone in the universe.
“Oh, hey.” The way he said the simple two words both confused and amused you because it sounded as if he didn’t expect you to be the person on the other end of the line. 
You laughed a bit. “‘Oh, hey’? Don’t sound so disappointed. You called me.”
“I know. Sorry. I meant to call Eddie,” He said, and it was then that you heard what should’ve been obvious from the moment he said “Hello” to you— the way his words weren’t necessarily slurry, just slower than usual. 
He was drunk, and you now recognized the voice that you had become so used to hearing since Steve’s sixteenth birthday when he snuck his dad’s whiskey and you both only had two shots of it before feeling it fully. 
“Why would you call him? Aren’t you two together right now?” You asked, your confusion taking precedence over the amusement you felt in this moment. 
Earlier that day, before you left the apartment to head to your twelve o’clock class, he told you that he was going to tag along with Robin, Vickie, and Eddie to some art show thing after his shift that night at Family Video; you would’ve gone too if you didn’t already have plans for the night. 
“Also, I didn’t know that you could get drunk at an art show,” You added. “I’ll definitely make sure to go next time.” 
“I didn’t go with them,” He told you, and before you could ask where he was, he answered the unspoken question. “I’m actually at a bar right now.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?” 
“Very long story. Dad shit. What else is new, right?” Steve answered with a breath of a laugh. 
He made his words sound lighthearted and as if whatever happened didn’t really affect him, but you, of course, didn’t see it that way. Without even being with Steve right then, standing in front of him and reading his facial expressions, you still saw through what he was trying to play off as “no big deal.” You’d known him more than long enough to know that anything involving his dad was usually always serious. And whatever shitty things his dad said to him this time around drove Steve to a bar rather than back here to the apartment to frustratingly rant to you, and that only worried you. 
“Which bar are you at?” You asked softly. 
“The only place in town, other than The Hideout, that doesn’t card,” He said and then immediately continued. “But, wait, don’t come here, though. I don’t want you to come get me. That’s why I was trying to call Eddie. I know you have your date tonight.”
Just for a second— actually, probably the entire time you’d been talking to Steve— you’d forgotten about the date, forgotten about the reason why you’d just been debating which skirt to wear, forgotten about what you were supposed to leave for in twenty minutes. And that slightly surprised you because, for the last couple of days, you’d been really excited about it. 
Meeting Jamie felt like a sort of “meet cute” moment that was straight out of a romcom, one that you probably would’ve laughed at because of how cheesy it was. You bumped into him in the hallway on the floor of your apartment. He was your neighbor’s, Miss Johnson’s, nephew, and you learned that even though he went to a college about an hour away, he was trying to visit her more often. He had been in the middle of leaving when you saw him, and you gave a friendly wave and smile at first and he started a conversation with you. You two then spent an hour talking in the hallway before you headed inside your apartment to start studying for a test and he asked for your number, which led to more long conversations over the next few days until he asked you on a date. 
In a way, it startled you how giddy you found yourself feeling about him after only those few days, how easily and quickly you liked him. It was the first crush that you had in a while that didn’t feel completely hopeless. 
But now all of that was the last thing on your mind. It quickly became pushed to the side because you knew that your best friend needed you.
You shook your head in this moment even though Steve couldn’t see you. “No, it’s okay, I’ll come.” 
“No, don’t, don’t. I’ll just call Eddie.”
He’s probably not home right now, was what you wanted to tell Steve, but you refrained from doing so at that moment. Instead, you said, “I’ll call him for you.”
The drunken sigh in relief Steve let out was immediate. “Okay, thanks, I don’t think I have any more change for this payphone, anyway.”
“Okay, just stay put and stop drinking.”
“The bartender already cut me off.”
“Good,” You said before saying a final goodbye to him and hanging up. 
You then picked the phone up again to dial a different number. You, of course, didn’t attempt to call Eddie and you instead called Jamie. He was completely understanding when you told him that you had to cancel the date because of an emergency, and he said that you two could do the dinner and movie on a different night, which you quickly agreed on. 
You put on the brown plaid skirt— quickly deciding that it looked better with the white top you were wearing, anyway— before slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing your coat, shoving your car keys and wallet into the pockets, and then leaving the apartment. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The drive to Webster’s took less than fifteen minutes and the current emptiness of it didn’t surprise you that much. From the handful of times that you’d gone to the place with Steve, Eddie, and Robin, it became a known fact that things didn’t become “lively” until after ten, and it was currently only a little after nine. 
You spotted Steve sitting on a stool at the counter, head down in his folded arms. You sat in the empty seat next to him and tapped the side of his shoulder until he sat up and looked at you. 
“Glad to know you’re alive, Harrington.” 
He smiled at you and you gave him a small smile back, he must have forgotten that he’d told you not to come to the bar. 
“I feel barely alive, actually.”
“Still counts.” 
Steve only looked at you for a moment, taking notice of what you were wearing beneath your unzipped coat. 
“You look nice,” He said and then seemed to realize something and his smile dropped. “Wait, shit, your date. You shouldn’t be here right now.”
“It’s fine. We’re just gonna reschedule it.” 
“I’m sorry.”
You shook your head at him. “No, don’t be. It’s just a first date, anyway. Your drunk ass needing a ride home is obviously more important than that.” 
Steve laughed a bit. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?” 
“Yes, you should,” You told him and then watched with furrowed brows as he went to grab the short glass that was in front of him, half full of some dark liquor. He was about to finish what was left in the glass, but you grabbed it from him before he could. “Steve.”
“I still had this from before I called you. I can’t finish it?”
“No, because if you end up throwing up in my car on the drive home, I will have to murder you.”
You looked away from him before he could say anything in response to that and waved at Barry, the usual bartender that you became on a first name basis with after your third time going to Webster’s. Since it was the farthest thing from busy right then, he immediately walked over to you two. 
“Hey, Barry, can he have some water?”
He nodded and filled up a glass, sliding it over to Steve and then looking at you. “Glad to see you here. He’s looked like a sad little lost puppy for the past hour.”
Steve stopped mid-sip to scoff. “That’s very not true.”
“Sorry, but I think I have to believe the only other sober person here,” You said and only smiled at the second annoyed scoff he let out, which was hard to take seriously because of his current drunkenness. 
Barry got called over by a group of people that just walked in and you silently watched Steve take a few sips from his glass. When he set it down, you lightly nudged his knee with yours. “Do you wanna talk about what happened with your dad?” 
Steve simply sighed at first. “He came to Family Video today and went on this huge rant about me and what I’m doing with my life. He thinks my job is shit, and even me going to school part-time isn’t enough. He thinks I’m such a loser in comparison to his friend’s kids who are actually “doing things with their lives.””
You frowned and shook your head. “Fuck him.”   
“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a small laugh and held up his glass of water for a second. “He also said that he wants to set me up with this job at his friend’s insurance company, and I immediately said no to that. I’m still not entirely sure what I wanna do yet, but I know it’s not that— some stupid fucking desk job. Especially not one that’s just given to me by my dad.” 
“He’s an idiot,” You told Steve. “And also his bullshit is not at all worth the hangover you’ll have in the morning.” 
“You might be right about that,” He responded, eyes fixed on his now half-empty glass of water and a small amused smile on his face. “But, it felt good for a second.” 
You poked his arm so that he would look at you. “You could’ve talked to me about all of that instead of coming here.” 
“I didn’t wanna mess up your date by coming home and talking to you about all of this sad shit. I knew that you’d just worry about me and probably not go,” He mumbled. “And I feel like a dumbass for still messing it up.”
“It’s okay. Seriously. Honestly,” You told him and then playfully smiled as you said your next words. “And you know that I would tell you if it wasn’t okay. I’d definitely hold this over you for at least a week, and force you to clean out Harold’s cage and do my laundry that’s been building up for the past week and a half. But you’re drunk and sad, and I’m way too nice to make you do any of those things.” 
He laughed at that, which made you smile wider. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome,” You said before you stood up from the stool you’d been sitting in. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here before it starts getting crowded. Can you walk okay?” 
Steve only nodded in response, which was a nonverbal answer that you weren’t sure if you completely trusted, so you stood close to him as he also got up and pulled some cash out of his back pocket and placed it on the counter. 
He then waved at Barry, and you were certain that he probably didn’t mean for it to be so animated and comical, but it very much looked that way. “Goodnight, Barry.”
The bartender laughed a bit when he looked over at you and Steve. “‘Night, guys.” 
Steve started heading toward the door first and you followed just a few steps behind him. When he stumbled a bit before even making it out of the door, you grabbed his hand and moved closer to him so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders, and then one of yours circled around his waist. 
Leading him to your car was a feat in itself, but once he was settled in the passenger seat and you started driving, he rolled his window down completely and had it like that during the entire ride even though it was freezing cold outside, and that was worse than dealing with his stumbling.
When you made it to the apartment building, his balance was actually a bit more coherent so you didn’t need to do more than just hold his hand during the entire walk to the elevators and then down the hallway to the apartment.
You dragged him to your room and he sighed in contentment when he sat down on the side of your bed; he always liked your mattress better than his own for some reason. 
“Wait, don’t fall asleep yet,” You told him before heading over to his room and grabbing a random t-shirt and basketball shorts from one of his drawers. “Here, put this on. I know you’d be mad at me if I let you fall asleep in those jeans.” 
“Thanks,” He mumbled with a yawn as you handed the clothes over to him, and then you went to the kitchen as he started changing. 
You filled a mug with water and then pulled open the drawer that had the bottle of aspirin in it. Neither you nor Steve were really sure why it lived there instead of in one of your bathrooms, where it probably should’ve been, but you two also didn’t make any effort to move it.  
Steve was already asleep and under the covers when you walked back into your room, and you placed the mug and aspirin on the nightstand on his side. You changed into your own pajamas for the night, which simply consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts, before settling in on your side of the bed. 
It was still pretty early for a Friday night, barely even ten o’clock, but you didn’t mind going to bed because you were actually a little tired. Steve was turned and facing away from you, but you still watched him and his even breathing for a bit, making sure he was okay before you quickly drifted off to sleep yourself. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Steve didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but he could tell that it was pretty early because he could see the just sun starting to rise. 
The other things he quickly noticed were that he was in your bed and he had a pounding headache, which was a little confusing at first, but then all of what happened last night started coming back to him. 
The shit with his dad, the bar, the accidental phone call to you, and then you coming to the bar and bringing him home— he remembered it all. 
With a soft groan, Steve slowly sat up in bed, doing his best not to wake you, and then reached over to grab the water and aspirin you left out for him. 
He took the medicine and drank most of the water and then laid back down, turning on his side to face you. Your head was against the pillow and even breaths fell from your slightly parted lips. You looked so peaceful like this, he decided, so pretty.  
Steve thought about you and Jamie, and how happy you had been when you talked about him. Steve also knew how excited you’d been about the date, and even though you had told him that it was okay that you had to cancel it last night, he still felt a little bad about it all. 
He knew that you would probably do anything for him, and that was completely mutual. If the roles had been reversed last night, Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about canceling a date to go pick you up from some dumb bar. And making those sorts of sacrifices for one another never felt like a question, it just always felt like the obvious thing to do. 
It didn’t completely make sense at first, but somehow it was that simple and crystal clear thought that managed to shift something deep down inside of him— it harshly drew the line between best friends and something more. And Steve quickly realized exactly which side he lay on.
Which was confusing because the lines of where your friendship began and ended had always felt so unquestionable— you and him were best friends; nothing more, nothing less. 
But it was different now, it changed, and it was this moment that told him that it actually had been that way for a while; probably since you two moved into the apartment. 
Starting from that day in August your lives became even more intertwined with one another— which didn’t feel entirely possible because of how close you’d been for so long— but it was true. He hadn’t realized how blurry the lines had been getting since then. 
Since you two started beginning your days and ending them in the same home. Since so many nights became spent in each other’s beds; nothing more happening than sleeping and late night talking, but still. Since you two got Harold only a few weeks into living in the apartment, and you both immediately fell into your unserious parental roles in the hamster’s life. Since an unspoken early morning weekend routine fell into place where Steve would make coffee and toast and you’d do the eggs and bacon. Since you two became something equivalent to a married couple that had been together for at least twenty years. 
And then Steve realized that actually maybe this something more had always been there— maybe it had always been so fucking obvious. 
He thought back to the end of Senior year when you two went to each other’s proms and slow danced at the end of the night because you both thought it would be funny, but those moments actually turned into something really sweet and wholesome; and you’d both think back on it during the most randomest of times. 
And then he also thought about smaller things, the parts of your personality that made him feel so goddamn lucky to know you. How you always fiddled with the radio and never settled on a station for longer than a few minutes during perhaps any car ride where Steve was the one driving; something that you’d been doing since the day he got his driver's license and you two went on your first solo car ride together. How pretty much anything you did would only make him smile and playfully roll his eyes or make fun of you. 
Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was having this sort of “epiphany moment” right here, right now, in your bed as he looked at you peacefully sleeping next to him. 
It, of course, stemmed from you canceling something that he had known you’d been looking forward to for the last couple of days to instead take care of him, he could recognize that. But, what made that so different from everything else you’d done for each other over the years? 
He immediately thought that maybe there was no one straight answer to that question because it wasn’t about what was different. Instead, it was about all of those other moments too. They had slowly built upon each other until it came to this one on this February morning— nine years into your friendship and six and a half months into you two living together— and Steve could finally recognize what it all had meant, and he was ready to accept the truth for what it was too. 
He liked you. More than liked, actually. He loved you, he was in love with you. 
But, you were also his best friend, the most important person in his life, and he didn’t want to be the reason that that ever got messed up. And that thought was what made him finally look away from you and mutter out a soft, “Fuck.”
Steve quickly got out of the bed, and he was surprised, but also completely grateful, that his quick and hasty movements didn’t manage to stir you awake. 
He left your room and went to the kitchen. It was early and he probably should’ve been trying to get a few more hours of sleep, but he wasn’t tired anymore. 
The realization was the only thing on his mind— in a matter of seconds, it managed to completely consume it. 
Everything else that had been happening the past few months finally made complete sense; Steve saw it all in a different way. He now understood why he couldn’t picture any sort of future with Vanessa when he went out with her a few times back in December even though he really did like her, and why he couldn’t see anything with anyone he went out with. Because deep down, he knew that he could only see that with you. It made sense why his dating life had been in such a rut lately and why he didn’t particularly mind it all that much.
When you two would jokingly say that you both were completely okay with ending up “alone together forever,” he realized now that from his side of things, deep down, it had never been a joke. And he wondered if it was the same way for you. 
In an ideal world, the answer would be yes. But, things only felt confusing, and if he was being a thousand percent honest with himself, he didn’t know if that answer was yes in this world.
Steve knew that you really liked Jamie, even in such a short amount of time, so that couldn’t mean that you had any sort of feelings for him. Right? Or maybe you just hadn’t had your own “epiphany moment” yet? Should he tell you about his? Should he tell you about any of what just hit him in the past ten minutes? 
His brain felt as if it was going to fucking explode with all of the questions circling his mind right then, and the coffee he was making failed to distract his thoughts from everything. 
He came to the quick decision that he wouldn’t tell you what he was feeling; it would just be easier that way. There wouldn’t be any way for him to potentially fuck things up between you two if he simply ignored what he was feeling. It was easy to imagine how drastically your friendship would change if he told you everything and you didn’t feel the same. Therefore, he could push it all away to make sure that nothing changed for the worse.
When the coffee was done, he poured some into a fresh mug and took a long sip. Any other time, he couldn’t really stand straight black coffee, but the bitterness tasted good for once; he decided to focus on that instead of anything else. 
Steve wasn’t sure how long he had been leaning back against the counter and sipping from his mug before you came out of your room. It could’ve been one minute or ten; right then, time felt as if it was moving both slow and fast. 
“Hey,” You said, giving him a small smile and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. “I’m surprised you’re up already. I definitely expected you to be passed out until at least ten.” 
It felt equivalent to a light switch flipping how quickly Steve felt affected by your smile and simply you in that moment. He’d probably seen you like this a million times before— just waking up and still in your now wrinkled pajamas from the night— but it felt entirely different now. And that was when he knew how fucked he was. 
“Yeah, I, uh, I woke up and couldn’t, um, go back to sleep… So, yeah, just came out here. Made some, um, coffee,” He ultimately responded and then inwardly sighed at how flustered he was right then. He let out a quick laugh. “Sorry, blame the hangover for my inability to say sentences right now.” 
If that was how he was going to act around you from now on, he knew that trying to keep this a secret was probably the most unrealistic idea ever. 
You laughed a bit and nodded, seemingly unfazed by his awkwardness right then, and opened up the fridge. “You think you can stomach eggs and bacon?” 
“Yes to the bacon, but I think I should play it safe and say no to the eggs.” 
“Makes sense,” You said, closing the fridge after grabbing the bacon. You placed the pack on the counter near the stove and then looked at Steve. “You feeling better about all of that dad shit?”
It was almost comical how even though it had been the reason for everything that happened last night, the conversation he had with his dad was the farthest thing from his mind now. 
“I’m good, actually.” 
“Good,” You said, smiling at him and then reaching out to grab his hand and give it a light reassuring squeeze; which, unknown to you, made his heart feel as if it was going to somersault out of his chest. “Remember, the next time this happens, come to me and we both can get drunk here for free. Or we can just run away and join the circus, or whatever it was we agreed on when we were twelve.” 
Steve only nodded and gave you a small smile in response because it felt as if that was all he could do at that moment. If he attempted to say anything, he felt like his words would’ve started or ended with, “I’m in love with you.” 
He changed his decision then. He knew that he had to tell you everything because it wouldn’t be easy to simply bury it down and ignore it. There was no way that he’d be able to keep this from you, at least not for a long time, it was already swallowing him whole. And although he had no idea when or how he would tell you the truth, he made a quick promise to himself that he would do it. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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