#so nervous about what tonight will bring

[chucklechampion]

ah heem heem......

[ramonathinks]

(18+, minors/blank accounts dni)

jealous ex husband gojo who just can't keep stand seeing you with someone else. he hates that you gave up on him, hates that you don't wear your ring anymore even though he does and he wears it proudly.

"you have a date tonight, the girls tell me." busted. you cringe and eye you little daughters, only six the both of them but you told them to keep quiet about the situation.

"yes..." you reply, anxiously awaiting his response.

you could just picture his face now, nose a bit flared and lips pursed. with clenched teeth he said, "alright, have fun." but it wasn't that simple.

he always kept close watch on you and it made you nervous with how simple it left the conversation. "well, i could come pick the girls up before then. about 8-ish?" he asks and you say yes before hanging up.

gojo was always too busy which was what led to the divorce. you'd both married young, 20 and stayed together since but when the girls turned 3 you had enough and just left. he wasn't being there enough for you or the girls and it hurt.

when he pulled up you cursed yourself for getting ready so early. your hair in long curls and a knee length skirt with a small slit on the left leg. he didn't bothering knocking or waiting for you to open the door, he had keys and you knew this so you continued with your makeup.

he was standing there watching you but you ignored him. or tried to but he walked closer and closer until he was right in your face. "how beautiful, you are." he held your jaw and forced you to look at him.

"why don't you ditch this date and come with me?" he asked, bringing your lower reign to his. "don't you miss me baby?" he nipped at your skin and the memories and feelings were coming back.

you had to be strong. you swallowed and pulled his back from you. "you have to stop this, im sure you have someone out there satoru, but she isn't me." you tried to walk off but he grabbed your wrist and brought you to your bedroom.

"y/n, so you think anyone can make you feel as good as i make you feel? don't you know i love you? my feelings never left and i know yours haven't." he rubs you through your panties and kisses you on your lips.

"everything can be different now." he promises, easing his way between your legs. his heavy cock entering you slowly, it was only the tip so far but it was splitting you open. you'd been without sex for two years and now tears were in your eyes.

"you think he can fill you up like me?" he adjusts himself and enters more of his cock into you. he was still so big, you were choking. you could feel him in your tummy and in your throat.

"you're always going to be mine, so stop running." he told you as he jerked his hips. "stop trying to let this go baby?"

"satoru—"

"mommy! the door!" one of the girls yelled.

"shh," satoru brought a finger to your lips and leaned forward to make love to your mouth. it was too much and you both were drooling after just a few minutes, he pulled himself out of you and looked at his wet cock.

"think about what i said." it was hard to forget. you clenched your legs together after you cleaned yourself up, not even wanting to face your date.

not even wanting to face your ex-husband either.

[hairmetal666]

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

[incognit0slut]

On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

Princess.no1.fan: Princess!!! JadenCums: we missed those tits Adam_4432: fucking hot as always Adam_4432: purple looks good on you Crazydick: who's the skinny loser at the back

You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

Princess.no1.fan: i always play nice with you JadenCums: they’re just jealous of your boy toy Adam_4432: ignore the haters, babe BigBoss88: let him stay in the background ThickNick: you're gorgeous princess

“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

Princess.no1.fan sent a $50 gift.

“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

Adam_4432 sent you a $100 gift.

That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

Looking4Sluts: no Looking4Sluts: cum on his cock Looking4Sluts sent you a $200 gift.

The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

Princess.no1.fan: Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot JadenCums: fisting my cock so hard Fatcock_777: wreck that damn pussy PussyLover69: i bet she’s fucking tight Looking4Sluts: jesus christ, she’s dripping

Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

Looking4Sluts: fuck yes JadenCums: she's so fucking tight PeachyKeen420: look at him stretching her PussyFiend69: just watching this is gonna make me cum HotForTits: Fuck her harder dude she wants it

His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

HotForTits sent you a $300 gift

The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

JadenCums: fuck yes FatCock69: she’s so wet BigdickXX: damn, I wish I could feel that pussy ILovePinkPrincess: spread her wider TommyGoode sent you a $200 giftDaddyDom92 sent you a $300 gift.

Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."

[criminalminds4eva]

secret polaroids - spencer reid

summary: secretly dating your coworker, when it all coomes to light due to a blurry polaroid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

“wait, whos in the picture behind your phonecase?!”

doctor spencer reid, the genius with an eidetic memory, one of the fbi’s brightest minds, your coworker. who you’ve been secretly going out with for the last couple of months

it all happend over spilled coffee, you had been rushing over to the office, holding cups of coffee for the team working on a case out of town. as a new member of the team you wanted to make a good impression, hell maybe suck up to them a little.

so when you walk in the precint and spill the coffee all over your clothes, the work of a small town cop running into you, spencer offers to drive you to the hotel, to change into clean clothes.

“that was so embarrasing god what an idiot” you said covering your flushed face as spencer drove to the hotel

“the cop ran into you, besides you were doomed from the start carrying 8 cups of coffee in the same hand, and statistically speaking, it's actually quite common to spill coffee, especially when multitasking or under stress, the brain can only process a limited amount of information at once, which leads to small errors in motor control.” spencer looked over at you and chuckled

"you know it amazes me how much information you have stored up in your brain, i mean i know about the phd´s and everything but still its so amazing" you said looking over at him as he parked in front of the hotel, you can see his cheeks start to form a little red to them and naturally yours do too

and after that, a couple of weeks later full of small glances, smiles and of derek telling him how painfully obvious it was that he likes you and liked him. he asked you out

"you know people who share common interests and engage in meaningful conversation tend to form stronger connections and, well, i really enjoy talking with you, so i was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime? i promise i won’t ramble about statistics the entire time" he said as he tried to hide the blush in his face so the rest of the team wouldnt know what the both of you were talking about in your desk

"spence, id love nothing more than to hear you ramble over dinner"

one dinner became two then three, then you found yourself kissing him goodnight as he dropped at the door to your apartment

he leans in slightly, hesitating for a brief moment, as if calculating the perfect timing and then gently kisses you

"i really enjoyed tonight" you said after the kiss "would you like to come in for a drink?"

he pauses for a moment, trying to think clearly then says "id love too"

after a while you both end up getting wine drunk in your apartment floor, which leads to the decision of your bringing out your polaroid camera

"come on spence smile for the camera" you laughed trying to get him to take his hands off his face but he wouldnt so you snap the picture anyway

"alright enough, your turn" he said taking the camera from your hands and taking a couple of pictures of you.

he wobbles a little setting his wine glass down in the counter, eyes half-focused but full of affection. "you know,ive been thinking, well, not just tonight, but, like a lot. you’re amazing and smart, and funny, and so beautiful and i think your definetly out of my league and if i were to kiss you then go to hell, i would. so then i could brag to the devils i saw heaven without entering" He fumbles over his words, blinking slowly, but his sincerity is clear. "maybe you could, um, be my girlfriend? statistically, we’re, uh, compatible, and I think we could you know be really happy together what do you say?" he offers a lopsided smile, clearly a bit nervous despite the alcohol.

his rambling takes you back "did you just quote shakespeare to me?" you chuckled as you leaned in to kiss him once more

"is that a yes i take it?" he said kissing you back

"yes doctor reid, i want to be your girlfriend" his eyes wide open to your response, and for a moment hes speechless, he laughs nervously rubbing the back of his neck and grabs the camera once more

"come on we are taking our first official dating picture" he smiles shyly but brightly taking a blurry polaroid of the two of you in front of the mirror

the two of you knew it was better to keep the relationship private, spencer's face flushed when you mentioned the thought of how derek would tease him, or how he wouldnt hear the end of it from garcia being all happy for the both of you. knowing they wouldnt do it to harm either of you but since this was quite new and being coworkers, you decided to keep it private but not a secret. the team knew spencer was seeing someone, emily said his face seemed brighter and suddenly he couldnt stay overtime to finish the files jj had sneeked him in his desk. and they knew you were seeing someone too since garcia said she caught you smiling while you were texting, they hoped you guys were seeing each other but since neither of you ever mentioned the date or maybe it was the fact that you really were able to mantain a professional front while working, they hadnt been able to fully catch on that you were dating spencer

that was until you decided to put the blurry polaroid of the night he asked you to be his girlfriend behind your phone case

"wait who's in the picture behind your phone case?" penelope squealed with exciment catching the attention of the rest of the team

"is that your boyfriend y/n, do i officially have no chance with you" chuckled derek leaning against your desk as you nervously took your phone from garcia

"oh come on now she will tell us when she wants too" emily approached then took your phone from your hands "besides you cant really tell who it is in the picture" as she looked at the picture trying to figure it out despite your efforts to take the phone from her hands.

derek stood beside her also looking at the picture "hey but doesnt it kind of look like.."

"morning what are we looking at" spencer appeared at your desk, his face blushing when he saw the picture emily and derek were looking at, they looked at spencer, then looked at you burying your face in your hands

"oh my god, no way really?!?" garcia said with a bright smile "doctor love oh my god i cant belive it" she said hugging spencer

"so i guess the cat is out of the bag huh?" you said looking at spencer

"you owe me 20 bucks i told you they were dating" emily said playfully punching derek in the shoulder

"wait you guys had bets on this" spencer said laughing nervously letting go of the hug with garcia

"well pretty boy we didnt actually think you would even ask her out how long has this been going on for" said morgan looking playfully hurt "baby girl let them breathe" he said pulling garcia from you

"a couple of months" you mentioned letting go of the hug with a cheesy smile

"alright, we have a case" said rossi joining the team by your desk. the team grins weider as they notice spencer blushing as he stands next to you "were really happy, for the both of you" said derek as they started to walk away. you get up from your desk following the team and squeeze your boyfriends hand, a signal that all was well

"did you really think we wouldnt figure it out?" rossi raised his eyebrows as he looked at spencer watching walk away while the team playfully teased you "im happy for you kid" rossi patted him on the back

spencer shakes his head with a half-laugh trying to hide the blush in his face as they joined everyone.

⋆｡°✩

a/n: feedback would be super appreciated, i hoped you enjoyed reading <33

[hoshifighting]

Arranged Marriage — Hoshi x Reader

— Synopsis: In contrast to the tired old plots of arranged marriages where the couple can't stand each other, you and Soonyoung are childhood friends. It's not just like marrying a friend—no, no, actually, it is marrying a friend, no-frills and simple. — WC: 10k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, fingering, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, choking, one single slap on the ass, hair pulling, aftercare, whipped!hoshi, hoshi teases reader until she almost cries for dick, mentions of alcohol, mentions of body fluids (cum, sweat), DIRTY TALK—prob the nastiest dirty talk i've written.

You knew this day would come. 

Growing up in a world where luxury, money, stock exchange, and business were the pillars of existence, arranged marriages were just another part of the cycle. Two patrimonies merging into one for the benefit of both families—it was a tradition as old as time. 

Some couples embraced the spotlight, showcasing their unity to the world. Others barely tolerated each other, living in separate homes to maintain a fake image. There were also those whose mutual disdain led to chaos both in their personal lives and in the family businesses.

When you saw Soonyoung in your home, dressed in a suit that clearly wasn’t his style, you felt a hurricane of emotions. His usual vibrant, carefree energy seemed stifled under the weight of the tailored fabric. You greeted him and his family alongside your parents, both of you a shy mess, but something in his eyes told you things might not be as bad as you feared.

“Hey,” Soonyoung murmured as you both found a moment away from the adults’ formal discussions. “This suit is killing me.”

You laughed softly, feeling a sense of relief. “You look... different.”

“Yeah, definitely not my usual style, you know me” he grinned, loosening his tie. “But I guess we’re both out of our comfort zones today.”

You nodded, memories flooding back of the two of you playing outside when kids, during business congresses, your parents inside discussing mergers and acquisitions while you and Soonyoung chased each other around the gardens. “Do you remember those days?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up with nostalgia. “We had our own little world, didn’t we?”

“We did,” you replied. “And now, here we are.”

“So, how do you feel about this?” he asked, shy, looking at your expensive dress, clearly set for tonight. “About us... getting married?”

“I’ve been preparing for it my whole life, I guess,” you said honestly. “But with you... it feels different. Less intimidating."

“I feel the same,” Soonyoung admitted. “I mean, if it had to be anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”

You smiled. “Maybe we can make this work. Find a balance between our lifes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can create something new, something that’s ours.”

You looked at him, seeing not just the boy you grew up with, but a partner. Someone who understood the complexities of your world and was willing to navigate them with you.

You looked around your house, taking in the scene. Soonyoung’s family mingled with yours, coworkers from your parents’ firms exchanged polite conversation, and your and Soonyoung’s nephews were playing circles around the couch. 

The weight of the day pressed on your shoulders, a burden that didn’t match the elegance of the dress you were wearing for the marriage proposal.

Soonyoung’s eyes met yours, noticing your tense posture. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

You looked at him, sulking, and he recognized the same expression you had when you were eight. 

He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, but I brought a bottle of tequila. It’s in my trunk. Would you like some to relax?”

You stared at him in silence before nodding with an exasperated look, feeling like it was exactly what you needed.

“Did you bring a shot cup?” you asked, following him outside.

He stopped, bottle in hand, and you both laughed. Taking the bottle from him, you leaned against his car, opened the cap, and poured a generous shot—maybe a little more—straight into your mouth. Soonyoung watched, his mouth wide open in surprise. You handed the bottle back to him.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking a swig himself, looking comically exaggerated as he did. “I’m the one who has to kneel and propose today. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

You both laughed like teenagers getting away with something forbidden, hiding behind his car.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. “Do you have the ring here?”

He looked at you and nodded.

“Can I see it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued as if he had a rare Pokémon card.

“Is that right?” he teased.

You made doe eyes and asked, “Pretty please?”

He smiled, pulling a small black box from his pocket and opening it for you. 

The diamond ring sparkled in your eyes, its brilliance captivating. “It’s beautiful,” you murmured.

Soonyoung nodded, grinning. “My sister helped me choose it. I originally wanted a diamond shaped like a cat, but she said that wasn’t appropriate.”

You laughed, the image of a cat-shaped diamond making you smile. “It’s beautiful, but a kitten-shaped ring sounds adorable. I would’ve loved that too.”

His grin widened, a small, proud smile lighting up his face as you both admired the ring.

Your moment was interrupted by Soonyoung’s mom's voice, echoing from the house. “Oh my god, are you already proposing?”

Soonyoung choked on his own saliva, his eyes wide with panic. The best thing to do now? Say no and face his mother’s scolding for showing the ring prematurely, or actually propose right then and there?

Before he could think it through, he found himself on one knee on the sidewalk, his heart pounding. You quickly hid the tequila bottle behind your back.

“Soonyoung, what are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“I... I’m improvising,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

The spontaneity of it all, made you laugh and cry at the same time, you needed to pretend you were actually emotional. “Yes, Soonyoung. Yes, I will.”

You barely noticed the sudden crowd that had gathered around you, they'd appeared out of nowhere, all eyes on the two of you. Soonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch.

You smiled nervously at him, teeth gritted. “Hug me,” you whispered urgently, your eyes darting to the tequila bottle that was precariously wedged behind your back. “Please, put the tequila bottle inside your car. It's practically shoved inside my ass.”

Soonyoung blinked, processing your words before a grin spread across his face. He pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that felt both reassuring and grounding. As he embraced you, he expertly reached behind you, his fingers brushing against the bottle. 

You could feel his body shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.

“Hang on,” he whispered back.

He managed to grab the bottle and discreetly slid it out from behind you. Still holding you close, he took a step back towards the car, opening the door with one hand and slipping the bottle inside. The whole maneuver was so smooth that you doubted anyone noticed the clandestine operation.

That moment eased the tension of the night, but the tequila hadn’t taken effect yet, and you knew you had to keep an eye on Soonyoung. His alcohol tolerance was notoriously low, and you didn’t want him to embarrass himself—or worse, get into trouble.

As the night wound down and Soonyoung’s dad started to lead him to the car, Soonyoung sulked, trying to resist. “I want to talk a bit more to my bride,” he protested, his voice slightly slurred. His words elicited good-natured laughter from both families, who were enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

You walked over to him, giving him a warm hug and patting his head affectionately. “It’s time to go home, Soonyoung,” you said gently.

He looked at you with wide, earnest eyes, the warmth in his gaze reminding you of why you felt less nervous than you should. Soonyoung had always been warm-hearted, and maybe that’s why you felt a sense of calm amidst the chaos.

As you pulled back from the hug, Soonyoung’s hand lingered in yours for a moment longer. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow?” he asked, his tone earnest despite his tipsiness.

“Promise,” you replied, smiling as you squeezed his hand.

With one last affectionate look, Soonyoung allowed his dad to guide him into the car. You watched as the vehicle pulled away. Your parents approached, their expressions a blend of amusement and expectation.

“Well, that was quite a night,” your mom said, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed, glancing at your dad, who nodded in approval.

“You two make a good pair,” your dad said, his tone warm. “I’m glad to see you both getting along so well.”

Your parents were now expectant, believing you and Soonyoung were truly becoming a couple. And in a way, you were—just not in the conventional sense they imagined.

The next day, even though it was a promise to a drunk boy, you called Soonyoung in the morning. Like any typical business wedding, the preparations started swiftly, aiming to have the wedding happen as soon as possible. Today, you were going to choose the food and drinks for the event.

When Soonyoung arrived, he was all tidied up, but his face was clearly tired. You laughed a bit, “You look…”

He completed for you, “Fucked?”

You chuckled, “I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Long night,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “But I’m here.”

“Good, because we have a lot to decide,” you replied, glancing at the event agent who was discussing the dessert options.

As you both looked at the event agent, who insisted on adding superfluous things to the sweets—like a layer of gold—you exchanged amused glances. The agent was enthusiastically explaining the virtues of gold-leaf-covered desserts.

“Gold? For us to... poop?” Soonyoung murmured incredulously.

You stifled a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Can’t it be something more tasty?”

The agent looked slightly taken aback. “Gold leaf is quite a statement piece.”

Soonyoung nodded, trying to be polite. “But we were thinking of something simpler.”

“How about churros?” you suggest.

The agent blinked, clearly not expecting that. “Churros? For a wedding?”

“Why not?” you said with a grin. “They’re delicious, and everyone loves them.”

“But they don’t exactly scream luxury,” the agent protested.

“They scream fun,” Soonyoung countered. “And isn’t that what weddings are supposed to be?”

The agent sighed, making a note. “Alright, churros it is. Anything else?”

“Maybe some street-style tacos?” he added, enjoying the agent’s bewildered expression.

“Tacos?” the agent repeated, as if the word was foreign.

“Yeah, why not?” Soonyoung agreed. “Let’s keep it simple and tasty.”

The agent finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Honestly, days flew by with Soonyoung by your side. Planning every little detail of the wedding together brought both fun and challenges, especially when your tastes didn’t always align. It was a bit complicated at first, like when you two were choosing the destination for your honeymoon. 

Soonyoung wanted an adventure-packed trip to the Amazon rainforest, while you preferred a relaxing beach resort in the Maldives. The negotiations were intense, but you eventually settled on a compromise.

Choosing Soonyoung’s suit also proved to be a task. He insisted on wearing a tie with a tiger print, a nod to his childhood love for tigers. You were surprised that his fascination with the big cats had persisted, but you drew the line at a tiger tie. “Absolutely not,” you told him firmly, trying to imagine the looks you’d get. “A tiger tie is a no from me, and I think a lot of people would agree.”

“Fine,” he conceded with a sigh, but you could tell he was already thinking about how to sneak a little tiger motif into his outfit.

When it came to choosing your dress, you were accompanied by your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister. 

Soonyoung, the only man in the group, tagged along as well. The other brides at the boutique initially assumed he was either your brother or your stylist. 

Their jaws nearly dropped when they overheard he was actually the groom.

One of the brides, adjusting her veil in front of a mirror, turned to you, wide-eyed. “Wait, he’s your husband-to-be?”

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed with a smile, watching Soonyoung fuss over a lace detail on one of the dresses.

Another bride laughed softly. “Lucky you! He’s so involved.”

“He’s been amazing,” you said. “Except for his obsession with tiger prints.”

Soonyoung, overhearing, grinned and walked over. “What can I say? Tigers are cool.”

“Soonyoung, you’re a unique groom,” his sister teased, shaking her head.

As you tried on dresses, Soonyoung offered his opinions with surprising thoughtfulness, balancing out his more quirky suggestions. He was genuinely invested in making sure you felt beautiful and confident in your choice.

You’d tried on everything: the biggest gowns, the tightest silhouettes, dresses with endless layers of skirts, and others that hugged your hips so closely it felt like they were molded to your skin. 

There were corsets that took your breath away—literally—and fabrics that shimmered under the boutique lights. 

But this time, when you left the dressing room, you were wearing a veil.

Soonyoung’s eyes didn’t lie for a second. He liked this one very much. The women around you—your mom, Soonyoung’s mom, and his sister—fussed over the dress, adjusting it here and there, offering compliments. But Soonyoung was speechless.

If Soonyoung were to be completely honest, up until this moment, he had always seen you as his friend, the girl he was going to marry because of an arrangement. You were the same girl who used to run around the events, eluding the security guards with your mischievous giggles. 

But now, you were different. You were a woman. His woman. And you looked stunning.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The transformation was breathtaking. You stood there, looking radiant in your wedding dress, and for the first time, the reality of the situation hit him. You weren’t just a friend anymore; you were about to become his partner, his wife.

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t realize he was gawking until you and the women turned to him, waiting for his response. He blinked, snapping back to reality, and managed to find his voice.

“You look...” he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Your cheeks flushed at his earnest compliment. “You really think so?”

Soonyoung nodded, still unable to tear his eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

His sister grinned, nudging him playfully. “Told you she’d find the perfect dress.”

Your mom wiped away a tear, “You’re going to make a beautiful bride.”

Soonyoung’s mom stepped forward, adjusting a tiny detail on the veil. “This is the one. It’s perfect.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling a sense of certainty wash over you. “Yes, this is the one,” you said, smiling at the reflection and then at the people around you who made this moment even more special.

[...]

The days leading up to the wedding were a whirlwind of activity. Every day brought something new to choose, and your creativity was running dry. You were worn out, and Soonyoung knew it. Today had been particularly exhausting.

As the realtor showed you yet another option for apartments in the Metropole, you responded with short answers, your enthusiasm long gone after visiting sixteen places that day alone.

“So, what do you think?” the realtor asked.

Soonyoung noticed your hesitation. “Can I talk with my wife for a sec?” he asked.

The realtor nodded and walked off, giving you space.

“Y/N-nie... are you okay?” Soonyoung asked softly, looking at you through his lashes.

You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’m so tired,” you confessed.

He took a step closer, his voice softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You breathed out heavily. “My family is putting a lot of pressure on me, and I’m working relentlessly at the company. I can’t wait for us to get married…”

Soonyoung’s heart sank a little. “You want to get married just to get free from it?”

“No, it’s not just that. It’s everything. The wedding preparations, the constant decisions, the endless work... I feel like I’m drowning.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand. “We don’t have to rush this, you know. We can take our time.”

“But everyone’s expecting so much from us,” you replied, feeling the weight of expectations.

“Let them expect,” he said firmly. “And I want this to be as much about you as it is about us.”

“I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” you admitted.

“You won’t,” Soonyoung assured you. “You’ve already done so much. It’s okay to take a step back and breathe.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit lighter. “Alright. Let’s look at this apartment one more time.”

Soonyoung nodded, giving you an encouraging smile. “And if it’s not the one, we’ll keep looking until we find the perfect place for us.”

You laughed softly, the tension easing. “You always know how to make things better.”

“Just doing my job as your soon-to-be husband,” he said playfully.

Soonyoung was doing an incredible job. 

From what you’d heard from friends who had gone through the same situation, they didn’t have partners like Soonyoung. You felt proud of him. 

He was your rock, making sure you took a breath when you were overwhelmed by the slightest things. He even insisted you didn't move a finger during brunch, making you so relaxed that you found the apartment you’d been searching for on the very same day.

The drive home was quiet, the car enveloped in a peaceful silence that allowed you a moment to rest. You laid your head back as he drove, appreciating the tranquility. Once you arrived, you stayed seated for a bit, soaking in the comfort of the quiet.

Soonyoung looked at you, waiting patiently. When you finally looked up, he gave you a gentle smile. “Ready to go in?”

You nodded, feeling a bit more refreshed. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He stepped out of the car and came around to your side, opening the door for you. “Take your time,” he said softly.

You appreciated his patience as you slowly got out of the car. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the house. “I’m just doing what any good partner would do.”

You leaned into him, feeling grateful for his support. “I don’t think everyone is as lucky as I am.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too, you know.”

As you entered the house, you felt a sense of relief. The apartment search was over, and you had found the perfect place. More importantly, you had Soonyoung by your side, making every step of this journey easier.

“So, what’s next on our list?” he asked, guiding you to the living room.

You sank into the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. “I think a nap is next on my list.”

He laughed, sitting beside you. “That sounds like a perfect plan.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders. “Wake me up in an hour?”

[...]

The days flew by in a blur with the whirlwind of wedding preparations. It felt like only moments ago you were choosing flowers, tasting cakes, and finalizing guest lists. 

Now, as you stood at the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in front of Soonyoung, the reality of the moment hit you with full force.

The weight of the dress and the pressure of looking perfect made your hands sweat like never before. You felt like a porcelain doll, perfectly polished and poised.

Soonyoung stood there, his eyes fixed on you with pride. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness. Here you were, a perfect woman by his side, and even better, an old friend he'd known for years. 

The familiarity of your presence brought him comfort. Despite the fact that you hadn’t really dated, the idea of having someone as pretty and cool as you with him every day made him feel at ease about the whole situation.

As you walked down the aisle, your eyes met his, and a small, reassuring smile played on his lips. He looked stunning in his suit, and the way he stood tall, waiting for you, made your heart flutter. 

You could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, mirroring your own, but there was also a calmness there, a silent promise that everything would be alright.

When you finally reached him, he extended his hand towards you. He leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “You look amazing.”

You blushed, your nerves momentarily forgotten. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”

The vows were sincere, filled with heartfelt words that spoke more to your shared friendship than any romantic notion. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as you remembered all the crazy things you’d done together as kids. 

Your minds flashed to the time you stole sweets from an event or when you both jumped into a water fountain during an important dinner with company directors.

As the officiant declared you husband and wife, all of these memories became a sweet reverie. You leaned in and whispered with a playful glint in your eye, “Are you going to kiss my lips or my cheek?”

Soonyoung blushed, clearly caught off guard by the question. A kiss on the cheek was typical in such moments since most arranged couples didn’t share a romantic bond. He stammered for a moment, his face flushing a deep shade of pink.

“Well… uh… I suppose the cheek would be safe,” he mumbled, eyes darting nervously.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, leaning closer. “But where’s the fun in that, Soonyoung?”

He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly. The playful challenge in your gaze gave him the courage he needed. With a deep breath, he moved in, his hand gently cupping your face.

“I think I’ll go for the lips,” he whispered back, his voice steadying.

The crowd held its breath as Soonyoung leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was a simple kiss, not passionate, but filled with the warmth of years of friendship and the promise of a shared future. The applause that followed was thunderous, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips against yours.

As you pulled away, you both wore matching grins. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased,

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not bad at all. Actually, it was kind of nice.”

You linked arms, turning to face the crowd together. Your parents looked relieved and proud, while your friends were cheering loudly, clearly entertained by the spectacle. Soonyoung’s eyes met yours again, and there was a newfound spark there, full of possibilities.

As you both shared champagne with your parents, Soonyoung playfully asked, "No tequila tonight?" You were about to respond when his mom's voice cut in, "Tequila?"

Soonyoung’s eyes widened, and his mouth twisted into a frown as he tried to suppress his laughter. You quickly improvised, "Huh, h-he meant... tacos! We had tacos with tequila last time, remember?" You forced a smile, hoping it sounded convincing enough. His mom seemed satisfied with the answer, nodding along.

After mingling with guests—aka talking with people from work about the next meeting—you finally found a moment to escape the spotlight. You and Soonyoung crouched behind the kitchen, hiding from the crowd. The chefs chuckled at the sight of the newlyweds sneaking bites of food, but they made sure to hand you the best eats, knowing how overwhelming the day could be.

Soonyoung grinned, playfully nudging you. "We're so used to doing this at parties that we're practically pros now."

You nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on your face. "Even though it's our own wedding party," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, looking at the gold ring on your finger with a sense of wonder. "Our wedding... I still can't believe it. Oh my god, we're grown adults now."

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to pat his head mockingly. "We've been grown adults for... kind of a long time already," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then leaned in closer, his voice softening. "Yeah, but it feels different now. Like, we're really starting something new."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. It was true. The reality of your situation was sinking in, but in a way, it felt comforting. You had each other, and that made everything seem a little less daunting. As you sat there, hidden away from the chaos of the celebration, it struck you how much you appreciated this moment—just the two of you, stealing away for a breather.

“Shall we follow tradition?” Soonyoung asks, a playful glint in his eyes. You frown, confused, as he reaches into the fridge and pulls out a bottle of tequila.

“Should tequila be kept in the fridge?” you ask, laughing at the sight.

“I hope so,” he replies, pouring the liquid into a cup. “This one is expensive.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking the cup from him. “The cheapest has the same effect,” you say, waiting for him to pour his own.

He chuckles, raising his glass. “But today’s a special day. We deserve the good stuff.”

You laugh it off, crossing your arms before taking the shot together. The familiar burn makes you both scrunch up your faces.

The wedding party was truly one of a kind. You and Soonyoung were a bit too excited, turning the waltz space into a wild dance floor. 

At first, your parents were too embarrassed to join, especially at the sight of Soonyoung twerking on you. But soon, even the directors and business partners were on the dance floor, dancing and drinking extravagantly.

[...]

The next morning, you and Soonyoung were woken up by the buzzing of your phones. 

Your makeup was smudged and stamped on the pillow, and you were still in your wedding dress. You scratched your scalp, feeling the bobby pins still tangled in your hair. 

Soonyoung was no better; his shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button, his tie was loosened around his neck, and his hair looked like a bird's nest. He scratched his forehead groggily. Despite sharing the same bed, you both seemed unbothered by it.

You grabbed your phone and saw the company group chat flooded with messages:

“Wow, last night was incredible! Congrats to the newlyweds!”

“I can't believe we all danced that much! My feet are killing me. :')”

“Best wedding party ever! So happy for you guys!”

“My head is pounding, but it was totally worth it. ^^ Cheers to you both!”

“I’m still recovering from all that dancing. What a party!”

“Never thought I’d see the CEO breakdancing. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ”

You couldn't help but smile at the messages, as Soonyoung peeked over your shoulder, a sleepy grin spreading across his face.

“My head hurts,” Soonyoung complains, rubbing his temples.

You adjust the corset of your dress, feeling the tightness around your ribs. "My ribs are squeezed," you grumble, wincing as you try to get comfortable. "I can't believe I slept in this."

He yawns, glancing down at your leg. "You even kept the garter on," he points out, noticing the delicate band still around your thigh.

You crack your neck, feeling the weight of the long night. "Your sister gave it to me, so I put it on," you explain, lifting the voluminous skirt to reveal the bridal garter.

His eyes widen comically. "My sister?! Is there something I don't know?"

You frown at him, a bit confused. "You don’t know about the tradition?"

Soonyoung looks a bit lost, scratching his head. "I mean, it’s my first time getting married."

You sigh, laying back down. "Traditionally, the groom is supposed to take it off when... taking the virginity," you explain, watching his face turn a shade of pink.

His eyes dart around nervously, processing the information. "So... my sister thought I was... a virgin?"

You shrug, teasing, "Probably. Are you?"

He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Definitely not. And you?"

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

He chuckles, finally relaxing. "Good to know. Not that it matters, but... it's funny to think about how everyone just assumes stuff."

“Are you going to take it off?” you tease, stretching your leg up and wiggling your foot playfully. Your eyes glint mischievously as you watch Soonyoung’s reaction.

He scoffs, but a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “What, you mean right now?” His eyes flicker to your thigh, then quickly back up to your face, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just messing with him.

You arch an eyebrow, maintaining your playful expression. “Why not? It’s tradition, right? Don’t you want to fulfill your husbandly duties?” You stretch your leg out further, making the garter more visible.

Soonyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He reaches out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against your thigh. The touch sends a shiver to your skin, and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s the matter?” you prod, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “Not at all,” 

You bute your lip as his fingers graze the lacy fabric of the garter. His touch is feather-light, almost ticklish, and you squirm a bit under his hand.

Soonyoung smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You’re squirming,” he notes, his voice low and teasing. “Does that mean you’re nervous?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Me? Nervous? Please,” you retort, trying to sound confident despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’m just surprised you’re taking so long. I thought you’d be an expert at this.”

He chuckles, sliding his hand a bit higher up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “Oh, I am,” he replies smoothly. “Just savoring the moment.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” you murmur, your voice softening slightly. “We wouldn’t want to miss out on any other wedding traditions.”

Soonyoung grins, his fingers hooking under the garter. “Right, can’t forget those,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of naughtiness. 

He gently tugs on the garter, slowly sliding it down your leg, his eyes never leaving yours. 

As he finally slips the garter off, he holds it up triumphantly, a goofy grin on his face. “There, tradition fulfilled,” he declares, waving the garter like a trophy.

You laugh, shaking your head at his antics. “Congratulations,” you say, clapping mockingly. “You’ve successfully removed a piece of elastic lace. Truly, a remarkable achievement.”

He bows dramatically, playing along. “Thank you, thank you,” he says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.”

You can’t help but laugh, the light-hearted banter making the moment feel even more special. Soonyoung’s hand lingers on your leg for a moment longer before he finally lets go.

As Soonyoung gets up, stretching his arms with a yawn, he announces, "I'm going to take a bath." He heads towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sit up, still feeling the effects of last night's festivities, and shout after him, “Ya! Ladies first!”

From behind the closed door, you hear Soonyoung's laughter echo in the bathroom. “Sorry, didn’t hear you over the sound of me already starting the water!” he calls back, his voice filled with playful defiance.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself. It’s these little moments that make everything feel so natural and easy with him. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of running water stop, and Soonyoung emerges from the bathroom, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“All yours,” he says, grinning. “I left some hot water for you, too.”

You roll your eyes playfully, grabbing your toiletries and heading into the bathroom. The warm water is a welcome relief, washing away the remnants of makeup and the night's events. After a quick shower, you step out feeling slightly more human, though the hangover still lingers.

As you both finish getting ready, the thought of breakfast crosses your mind. However, just the idea of food makes your stomach churn. The hotel's breakfast spread is typically lavish, but today, the thought of greasy bacon and pastries is anything but appetizing.

Soonyoung, dressed in a casual outfit, catches your expression as you look at the food options. “Yeah, not feeling it either,” he says, rubbing his temple. “Let's skip it.”

You nod in agreement, both of you opting for just a coffee to stave off the worst of the hangover. With minimal conversation, you gather your belongings, checking out of the hotel and heading straight to the airport.

But one thing you definitely didn’t expect was Soonyoung falling asleep on your shoulder within the first thirty minutes of the flight. His head rested heavily against you, and his hand, seemingly by accident, was placed on your thigh. 

As he softly snored, you couldn’t help but chuckle at how comfortable he looked. Anyone passing by would probably think you two were an old married couple, so naturally attuned to each other.

His head's weight pressed down on your shoulder, a constant reminder of his presence. Every now and then, you felt him subconsciously moisturizing his lips, a small, almost imperceptible movement that somehow made the moment even more cute.

You glanced at the small TV screen in front of you, trying to focus on the movie playing. It was a romance novel adaptation, the kind with sweeping gestures and grand declarations of love.

Normally, you might have rolled your eyes at the cliché, but with Soonyoung sleeping peacefully beside you, it felt oddly fitting.

As the plane cruised through the sky, you found yourself getting lost in the storyline, occasionally glancing at Soonyoung. His breathing was steady, a gentle rhythm that added to the soothing hum of the plane. 

You shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable without disturbing him, but his hand tightened instinctively on your thigh, holding you in place. It was a small, protective gesture that made your heart flutter.

What you loved the most was when Soonyoung finally woke up, blinking sleepily and then immediately apologizing. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, his face flushed with embarrassment. You chuckled, assuring him it was okay, that he had every right to rest. He seemed genuinely mortified, even offering, “You can sleep on my shoulder too, I promise.”

You smiled at his earnestness, brushing it off with a light, “Maybe on the way back, then,” as the announcement came that you were about to land.

Once you arrived, Soonyoung was quick to grab the suitcases from the taxi, his efficiency a comfort as you made your way to the hotel's check-in counter.

The concierge’s eyes seemed to linger on you a little too long, his gaze sliding over your sundress and perhaps admiring more than just the attire. 

As you waited for the receptionist, the concierge leaned casually on the counter, offering a friendly, yet slightly flirtatious, smile.

“First time here, ma’am?” he asked, his tone smooth and inviting.

“Well, yes...” you replied, keeping your voice polite but detached. You could feel the weight of his attention and tried to subtly stretch your hand, making sure the gold ring on your finger was clearly visible.

The concierge didn’t seem to get the hint, or perhaps he chose to ignore it. “You’re in for a treat. We’ve got some wonderful spots for—”

Before he could continue, you felt Soonyoung's presence behind you, a comforting warmth at your back. His body pressed lightly against yours, a subtle yet possessive gesture that didn’t go unnoticed. His hand slipped around your waist, resting just below your belly, the touch gentle but unmistakably protective.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Everything alright?” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity and a subtle edge.

You could almost feel the shift in the air. The concierge straightened up, his expression flickering between surprise and a polite smile. “Oh, just making sure your stay is perfect,” he said, his tone now more professional, eyes darting between you and Soonyoung.

“Thank you,” Soonyoung replied, his voice steady. His hand didn’t move from its spot on your belly, and the slight squeeze he gave was enough to send a clear message. You leaned back into him, feeling a rush of warmth at his silent claim.

The receptionist finally returned with your room keys, handing them over with a bright, “Welcome to our hotel! We hope you enjoy your stay.” With the keys in hand, you and Soonyoung made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, sealing you both from the world outside, you turned to Soonyoung with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s a little possessive.”

He grinned back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

You tease him back with a playful smirk. “Well, it’s just a business marriage. You shouldn’t worry about stuff like that,” you say, your tone light and slightly mocking.

Soonyoung scoffs, turning his gaze to the side with a dramatic sigh. “You’re such an idiot,” he mocks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“An idiot, hm?” you counter, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Well, I’m an idiot you agreed to marry, so I guess that makes you twice the fool.”

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Sharp tongue of yours, huh?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’ve had years of practice.”

Soonyoung leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, it’s a shame. I was really looking forward to giving you something special once we got to our hotel room.”

Your curiosity piques immediately. “Something special? Like what?”

He grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Oh, just something that’ll make you remember tonight.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his meaning. “Something that’ll make me remember tonight, huh? Care to elaborate?”

Soonyoung chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I think you already know what I’m talking about.”

You narrow your eyes, playfully challenging him. “Do I? Because you’re being awfully vague.”

He leans back, enjoying the game. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The teasing glint in his eyes only fuels your curiosity further. You know exactly what he’s implying, but you play along, eager to hear him say it outright.

“So,” you press, “what is it? Can you give me a hint?”

Soonyoung’s grin widens, clearly relishing the moment. “Let’s just say it’s something that’ll make you very excited. And not just because of the hotel’s decor.”

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’re being all mysterious.”

You sulk, trailing behind Soonyoung as he walks down the hallway toward your room. “Tell me, pleeeease,” you plead.

Soonyoung glances back at you with a mischievous smile. “Nope, not telling,” he says, his grin widening as he enjoys your insistence.

When you reach the door, Soonyoung unlocks it and pushes it open, gesturing for you to enter. You walk in, your eyes scanning the room briefly, but your focus quickly returns to Soonyoung. He places the suitcases by the door and then hops onto the bed, sprawling out with a relaxed sigh.

You stay standing by the door, your arms crossed over your chest, giving him a sulky, upset look. 

“So,” Soonyoung says with a defiant glare, “am I forgetting something?”

You pout, trying to look as curious and frustrated as possible. “You’ve got me curious,” you admit, your eyes wide.

He laughs, brushing his hand through his hair with a playful sigh. “You’re almost throwing a tantrum over this?”

Soonyoung slides his hand down his abdomen slowly, getting lower and lower, until he's wrapping his fingers around his cock through his white shorts. The outline is clear, thick, and perfectly defined against the fabric.

He gives it a little shake, a sly smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You stare at him in shock, your knees almost giving way as you take in the sight. Your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out as you struggle to process what you're seeing.

Soonyoung’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Are you surprised?”

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Well, I figured it was time to give you a little hint,” he says, his hand still resting casually on his bulge. “So, do you think you’re ready to find out what else I have in store for tonight?”

You stammer, unable to look away from the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. “Do we have to wait until nightfall?”

Soonyoung licks his lips, his gaze never leaving you. “Oh,” he drawls, “but you have to walk properly tonight, so we can go to the restaurant.”

Your eyes darken, a fire igniting within you. “You think I can’t handle all of this inside?” 

He raises an eyebrows. “You shouldn’t,” he says, his voice dripping with devilishness. “It’s just a business wedding, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Just a business wedding, huh? You really want to test me?”

Soonyoung chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. “That’s right. Let’s see if you can keep your composure while we enjoy a nice dinner.”

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Challenge accepted,” 

You’ve never been so turned on by someone’s mere presence before. The entire city tour was a cruel game of torture, all at Soonyoung’s hands. 

In the taxi, his hand had wandered to your nude thigh, brushing against your skin like a feather. The way his fingers lightly caressed your inner leg made your heart race and your breath catch. 

At the restaurant, the casual caresses continued. His leg pressed against yours under the table, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The warmth of his skin against yours, the way he would occasionally let his knee slide up your thigh—each movement was like an electric current surging through you, leaving you squirming in your seat.

Walking through the jewelry fair was an exercise in restraint. As you admired the sparkling displays, Soonyoung’s hands kept drifting to the exposed skin of your back. His touch was light, almost playful, but each graze against your bare skin made you shiver with need. 

You could barely focus on the dazzling jewels in front of you; your mind was consumed with the need for him.

By the time you were back in the elevator, you felt like you were on the edge of losing control. You could feel his eyes on you, sharp and hungry, as you pressed yourself against the wall. 

You turned your face away, but you couldn’t hide the truth from him. Your nipples, straining against your dress, betrayed your arousal. Your legs, pressed tightly together, were a clear sign of your desperation. Even your unsteady breaths gave you away.

When you finally arrived at the hotel room, you barely made it inside before your desperation took over. 

You throw him against the wall, hands planted firmly on his chest. The sound reverberates through the room, probably making the neighbors wonder what the hell is going on. His usually small eyes are wide, staring at you flaggerblasted. 

Your breath mingles with his as you lean in, letting your lips barely graze his. Your voice comes out breathy, almost desperate, “Please. Stop teasing me.”

For a moment, he's stunned, caught off guard by the whininess in your voice and the look on your face—like you might break if he doesn't give you what you need right now.

It's a twisted scenario, considering you're his childhood friend turned wife is standing before him with an expression that borders on agony—an agony only he can alleviate.

For a moment, he looks like he might laugh, but he knows he's on the verge of losing all sense of control, but a part of him relishes the idea. 

“Say it again,” he murmurs. He knows he's playing with fire, but he can't resist the thrill. His lips barely brush against yours, teasing, taunting.

“Soonyoung, I'm going to fucking cry if you don't—”

“Hold it,” he commands,you shudder, your breath hitching as he lifts your dress. And you comply, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep it out of the way. 

His hand slides down the front of your panties, and your head falls back. 

Soonyoung leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’re so fucking impatient,” he growls. 

His fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you wet and wanting, throbbing everytime he rubs his fat fingers on you. “You’ve never even tasted my cock, and you’re already obsessed, huh?” He presses his thumb against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand. You can barely think straight. “Please, Soonyoung,” you beg again, your voice cracking.

He chuckles darkly, clearly relishing your desperation. “You want my cock so bad, don't you?” His fingers slide inside you, curling just right, and you cry out. “You want me to fuck you senseless? Make you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. The words spill out of you, unfiltered and raw. “I want you to ruin me.”

“You’ve never had anyone fill you up like I will,” he says. “I’m gonna stretch you out so good, baby. You’ll be begging for more, even when you can’t take it.”

The dirty talk, the sheer vulgarity of his words, makes you even wetter. You feel like you're on the verge of losing control, and it's rousing. 

Soonyoung's fingers pump in and out of you, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. His thumb rubs relentless circles on your clit, and you can feel the tension building, winding tighter and tighter.

“You’re gonna cum on my fingers first,” he whispers. “And then I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for days. Is that what you want, baby? To be fucked so good, you can’t even think about anything else?”

“Yes, yes, please,” you pant, your voice high and desperate. You can feel the orgasm building, Soonyoung's touch is all-consuming, driving you wild with every stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.“So eager to please. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Here and there, Soonyoung is driving you insane with his body affixed to the wall, one strong arm holding your leg up. His wrist swiveling to match his fingers as they explore your weeping cunt and his repetitive rubbing of the areas that cause you to roll your eyes. 

You cry out, gasping as you roll your hips onto his fingers, the orgasm making you forget what would be appropriate at the time. Soonyoung's fingers work you through it, drawing out every last drop of you.

As you come down from the high, you realize you're still clinging to him, fingers deep on his muscular shoulders, your breaths coming in hiccups. Soonyoung pulls his fingers out of you, and you feel a pang of loss.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can barely stand. Soonyoung catches you, pulling you close. 

Soonyoung's eyes rake over you, his smirk widening as he takes in the sight of your trembling legs. “You're trembling,” he chuckle. His gaze drops to the slick mess between your thighs, and he bites his lip, clearly reveling in the sight. “Better than this... you're literally dripping,” appreciating. 

He lets your leg down, holding you firmly as he guides you back onto the bed. The plush mattress sinks under your weight.

“God forgive me,” he continues, “but if our mothers weren't in that dressing room that day, I would've fucked you right there in the store. With that princess veil of yours... I would've pinned you against the mirror and made you scream my name.”

Your mouth falls open. The image of him taking you into that bridal shop, surrounded by white lace and satin, ​​hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You're not sure what shocks you more: his bold declaration or the way your body reacts to it, growing wetter with every word.

He smirks at your reaction.

“What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" He teases. His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Or are you just too turned on to speak?"

He's right; you're completely at his mercy, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a response.

He strips off his shirt, revealing the sculpted lines of his torso, then shucks off his shorts. His erection strains against the fabric of his boxers, and he groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he palms himself.

“I could've fucked you on that altar,” he visualize. "In front of all those guests. Just to show everyone that no matter how arranged this marriage was, you're mine. No one else's.”

He opens his eyes, locking onto yours. “I would've spread you open right there, had you screaming my name, showing them all who you belong to."

His dirty words, the way he claims you with every syllable, makes your head spin.

Soonyoung's hand moves over his bulge, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don't even know how much I've wanted you,” he hisses. “How much I want to fuck you senseless, make you mine in every way.”

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. “And tonight, I'm going to do just that. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget about everyone else. Just me, and this cock inside you, filling you up until you can't think straight.”

You squirm, your body responding to his filthy promises. You can't tear your eyes away from him, your mind racing with the possibilities of what the night holds. 

Soonyoung's fingers brush against the hem of your dress, and you shudder at the contact. “Take it off,” he orders, his voice rough. “I want you naked, spread out on this bed, ready for me.” His eyes bore into yours, and you know he's not just asking—he's demanding. 

You slip your dress over your head, tossing it aside as you finally catch sight of Soonyoung completely naked. His hand moves over his erection, the cockhead glistening with precum. The sight makes you lick your lips.

“Can you—” he starts to ask, but you cut him off, not needing him to finish.

“Yes!” you nearly moan. His eyes darken, a smirk playing on his lips as you drop to your knees in front of him.

You take a moment to appreciate the sight before you. His cock is thick and veined, the head an angry red, glossy with precum. You can almost taste it just from looking.

Tentatively, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the tip, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. It's musky and slightly bitter, but it makes you want to choke on this cock. You swirl your tongue around the head, savoring the taste and the way his breath hitches above you.

Soonyoung's hand tangles in your hair, guiding you closer. “Yes, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “Just like that.”

Encouraged by his reaction, you take him deeper into your mouth, your lips stretching around his girth. The texture of his cock is smooth yet rigid, the veins pulsating against your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight seal as you bob your head, taking more of him with each movement.

His hips jerk forward involuntarily, and you hear a strangled moan escape his lips. “Shit, that feels so good,” he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The sight of him looking down at you, his face twisted in pleasure, spurs you on.

You slide your hand up his thigh, wrapping it around the base of his cock to stroke what you can't fit in your mouth. Your other hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you continue to suck him. 

You hum around his length, sending vibrations through him. He shudders, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. “You're so fucking good at this,” he praises, his voice breathless. “So eager, so perfect.”

You moan around his cock at the praise. You take him deeper, pushing your limits as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but push through, wanting to please him, wanting to show him how much you want this.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his hips bucking forward again. “You're going to make me cum if you keep doing that.”His voice is strained, you don't know if he's warning you or if he's desperate.

You don't let up, doubling your efforts. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head every time you pull back. Your hand continues to pump the base of his cock, matching the rhythm of your mouth. You can feel him throbbing, his cock pulsing with need.

Soonyoung's moans grow louder, more desperate. His breaths come in uneven pants, his body tense with the need for release. “Fuck, Y/N, I'm so close,” he warns, his voice breaking.

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you take him even deeper. You want to see him come undone, to watch him lose control because of you. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, and with one last swirl of your tongue, he lets out a choked moan.

He comes hard, his hips jerking as he spills into your mouth. The taste of his release floods your senses, warm and salty. You swallow every drop, savoring the way he trembles above you. His hand in your hair tightens, holding you in place as he rides out his orgasm.

His hand gently strokes your hair after, a contrast to the rough grip from moments before. You pull back, licking your lips and savoring the last taste of him.

He lifts you up effortlessly, his lips crashing into yours. He doesn't care that his cock was just in your mouth seconds ago or that his cum lingers on your tongue. The taste of himself on your lips makes him moan, the sound vibrating between you.

After a moment, he pulls back, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm enough to make you feel his presence. His eyes bore into yours, as he licks his sensitive lips.

“You were sucking me so good,” he rasps, “that I almost said ‘I love you’.” 

A laugh bursts out of you, hearty and genuine, and he watches you with a smirk. 

“I swear,” he continues, his tone playful. “if I'd known marrying you would come with benefits like this, I would've done it way sooner.” “I feel like I owe you something after that blowjob,” he says, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sultry tone.

You bite your lip, a dirty thought flashing through your mind, and Soonyoung picks up on it immediately. Soonyoung's gaze narrows, reading the filth in your expression

“What is it? What do you want?” he asks excitedly.

“Can you fuck me… doggy style?” you ask.

“Yes, I can,” The corners of his mouth twitch, barely holding back a grin.

You look up, pretending to be lost in thought, then say, “Can you fuck me in missionary?”

He nods again, biting his lip, his grip on your throat tightening just a little.

“Can you fuck me inside… the shower?” 

He presses you tightly against him, his hand gripping your waist possessively, but your gaze still eating him whole. 

“I can fuck you upside down, sideways, any way you want, baby,” he answers, his voice steady and confident. “Just say the word, and I'll make it happen.”

You moan in response. Too early to say that you're already dumb for his cock?

“Get on all fours and lift that pretty ass for me.”

As you crawl up the bed, you make sure to put on a show. You arch your back, lifting your ass higher, giving Soonyoung the view he wants. You wiggle it a little, teasing him. 

The motion makes your pussy lips part slightly, already slick and ready for him. You can feel his eyes on you, burning with thirst. Without warning, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp. You let out a yelp. You know that mark will be there tomorrow, like a postmark, like a stamp, like a reminder of this moment, and the thought makes you even wetter.

He moves behind you, the bed dipping under his weight. You feel his hands on your hips, gripping you firmly as he positions himself. You can't help but push back against him, seeking more contact.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, running his hands over the curves of your ass, squeezing the flesh and kneading it roughly. He spreads you open, taking in the sight of your wetness.  “Look at how ready you are for me. You're dripping, baby.”

You moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. “Please, Soonyoung, I need you.”

“Fuck, you sound so desperate,” he taunts, positioning himself behind you. His cock slides against your folds, teasing you, making you whimper. “Beg for it. Beg for my cock.”

“Please, Soonyoung, fuck me,” you whine. “I need your cock inside me, please. I can’t wait any longer.”

He doesn't tease, doesn't make you wait any longer. He thrusts in with one hard, deep stroke, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion makes you cry out, a slight discomfort as your walls stretch around him. But it makes your toes curl. 

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move. “So fucking tight and wet for me. You feel that? That’s my cock stretching your pussy.”

You moan loudly, the pleasure building with each thrust. “Yes, Soonyoung, I feel it. It feels so good. Fuck me harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. The sudden burst of pleasure makes you gasp, your body jolting.

He pulls back slowly, only to slam back in, setting a rough, punishing rhythm, making you roll your eyes back.

He's so deep, hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Each thrust makes you see stars, and you can't help but moan loudly, not caring if the entire hotel hears you. The stretch, the fullness, it's all so overwhelming, so fucking good.

“Come on,” he urges, voice a low growl. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you squeeze this cock.”

It's all too much. The feel of his cock, his fingers on your clit, the dirty words spilling from his lips—it all sends you over the edge. The second orgasm of the night making you feel already exhausted. Your voice hoarse, as you feel yourself sloppier between your legs. 

There's no mercy in his movements; he's fucking you through your high, pushing you beyond your limits. Each time he hits your cervix, a sharp jolt of pleasure-pain ripples through you, making your arms tremble uncontrollably.

You try to hold yourself up, but your strength falters. With a soft cry, your arms give out, and your chest falls against the bed. Soonyoung lets out a low chuckle, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watches you crumble beneath him. Even with your body slack, you're impossibly tight around him, your pussy squeezing him like a vice. 

Soonyoung’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to pound into you from behind. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, stretching you, making your walls clench involuntarily around him. 

He leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, and you can hear the pride in his voice as he coos, “Aww, look at you. So fucking helpless, so fucking wrecked. You can’t even hold yourself up, can you?” 

You can barely muster a response, a breathy whimper escaping your lips as you feel the tears start to stream down your cheeks. It’s an almost incredulous feeling, the tears mixing with the sweat on your face. 

You’ve never been fucked like this before, never been pushed to the brink and then beyond, your body betraying you as it trembles under his control. It’s a raw, visceral experience that leaves you gasping for air, your mind a hazy blur of feel.

Soonyoung notices the tears, and his smirk grows wider. “Look at you, crying for me,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Is it too much, baby? Too fucking good? Love being fucked so hard you can’t even think straight?” 

His hand moves from your hip to your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your back even more. The angle shifts, and he hits that perfect spot inside you, making you moan loudly, your voice cracking with the intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips snapping forward with even more force. “God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard. It’s like your pussy doesn’t want to let me go.” He punctuates his words with deep, hard thrusts that leave you reeling, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“So pretty when you cry,” he continues, his tone almost taunting. “I could do this all day, just watch you fall apart on my cock” His words are filthy, degrading, but they ignite something inside you, a desperate need for more. 

The way he speaks to you, the way he claims you with each word and each thrust, is addictive.

You can’t hold back your sobs. “Please,” you manage to choke out, not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. 

More, less, anything—just something to ease the dizzying sensation coursing through you.

He laughs softly, a dark, knowing sound that makes your skin prickle. “Please what, baby? You want me to stop? You want me to fuck you harder?” 

He pulls out almost completely, the emptiness leaving you gasping, and then slams back in with a force that makes your whole body jolt.

“You’re so fucking greedy. Can’t get enough, can you? You want this cock to ruin you, want me to fuck you so good you’ll feel it for days.”

All you can do is moan and sob, your body shuddering with each thrust as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, it’s dirty, raw, and utterly nasty.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he murmurs, his voice a dark promise. 

And as you feel the tension building inside you again, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your belly—you know he’s right.

He lays you gently on the bed, your back sinking into the mattress. Your face, flushed and glistening with sweat, looks completely wrecked, completely exhausted. Soonyoung feels a brief flicker of pity, but it quickly dissipates as you babble out your dirty words, barely coherent but dripping with need. “Please... Soonyoung... more, need you so bad... fuck…”

He smirks, spreading your wobbly legs apart, exposing the slick, swollen mess between them. “You can barely form a sentence, and yet you still want more.”

He slides his cock back inside you, stretching you open once more. 

Soonyoung's thumb finds your clit again, and he begins to work it in slow, light-touch circles. The sensation is maddening, a delicious contrast to the deep, methodical thrusts of his cock. 

He watches your face intently, drinking in every expression, every gasp and whimper."That's it, baby," he coos. “Let me see that pretty face when you cum.”

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body overly sensitive from the previous orgasms, but he doesn't let up.

His other hand moves to your chest, fondling your breast, his fingers pinching and rolling your nipple before sliding up to wrap around your throat. This time, the grip is firm, real, and you can feel the delicious pressure as he chokes you just enough to make your head spin.

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You cling to him, your arms wrapping tightly around his body, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him, become one. The scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air—it all consumes you. 

Your body is trembling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, a white-hot band of pressure that threatens to snap. Soonyoung's moans are louder now, but they seem distant, like they're coming from underwater, muffled by the roaring in your ears.

His pace quickens, and you feel yourself losing control, your mind slipping away from the physical world. The room, the bed, even Soonyoung—all of it fades into the background. 

There's only the blinding, all-encompassing pleasure that fills every nerve, every cell in your body. It's like being pulled under a wave, the sensation crashing over you with a force that's almost violent.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, and you can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, the buildup to your orgasm reaching its peak.

And then, it hits. The climax rips through you, a white-hot explosion that leaves you gasping, the world narrowing down to the blinding sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

Your back arches off the bed, your mouth opening in a silent scream as your vision goes white. The intensity is mind-numbing, erasing everything else from your mind except the overwhelming euphoria that pulses through you.

Your body shakes with the force of it, your legs quivering, toes curling as the pleasure radiates outward from your core. You can feel the slickness between your thighs, the way your walls flutter and squeeze around Soonyoung, pulling him deeper inside you. 

Soonyoung's name falls from your lips in a choked sob, your voice hoarse and trembling. 

You slowly come back to reality, feeling the weight of Soonyoung's body on top of you, his cum warm and sticky between your bellies.

Soonyoung pants loudly, trying to catch his breath. He lifts his head slightly to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes despite the satisfied smile on his lips. “You okay, wifey?” he asks.

You manage a weak smile, still feeling the aftershocks of your intense orgasm. “I’m okay, hubby,”

His smile widens, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “You were amazing.”

You chuckle softly, the sound a bit strained. “You weren’t too bad yourself,” you tease, your hand coming up to rest on his back, feeling the muscles still taut from effort.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your own. “Glad I could satisfy my wife on our first night together,” 

“Think we should clean up?” Soonyoung asks after a while.

“Probably,” you agree, though neither of you makes a move to get up just yet. You’re too content, too wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Soonyoung shifts, carefully pulling away from you. The cool air hits your skin, making you shiver slightly. He helps you sit up, his hands gentle and supportive as you both make your way to the bathroom.

The weight of the wedding ring on your finger feels heavier now, more symbolic than ever. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a constant reminder of the commitment you’ve made and the life you’re building together.

Soonyoung, despite his own exhaustion, is kneeling beside the tub, gently washing you. His focused expression as he works to make sure you’re clean and comfortable. The sight of him, so dedicated and caring, makes your heart swell.

You feel a pang of guilt as you see the tiredness etched on his face, a reminder of how much he’s given for you, both physically and emotionally. Your legs, still trembling from the aftermath of the passion, had given up on you, leaving you reliant on him. The thought of him taking care of you, even in his weariness, makes you feel both grateful and a bit ashamed.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “You don’t have to do this. I can manage on my own.”

Soonyoung looks up at you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “I want to,” he says quietly. “You took care of me earlier, and now it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, it’s kind of nice, being able to do this for you.”

You look him in the eye and sense the truth in his words. His warm, comforting smile belies the weariness that is evident in the lines on his face. 

[...]

As you and Soonyoung lie together in bed, the room is quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from either of you. The memories of what just happened still lingers in the air, making both of you feel a bit shy and stunned.

As Soonyoung lays his head on your chest, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. He sighs contentedly, his fingers lightly tracing patterns around your breast. 

“So,” he begins, his voice tinged with both surprise and a hint of playfulness, “when I hinted at what I wanted, I honestly didn’t think you'd go for it. I was kind of... hoping, but also preparing for a rejection.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers running through his hair. “Oh really? And why not?”

“Well, for one, you’re ridiculously hot. I didn’t think you’d be that into it right off the bat.”

You giggle, feeling a rush of confidence. “Oh, come on. Why wouldn’t I? You’re hot, and let’s be honest, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Damn, so you think I’m hot, huh? And here I was thinking I’d have to put in a little more effort.” He rises to look at you, but you make him lay again, your cheeks flushed.

“I can’t believe we managed to go from ‘I do’ to ‘Let’s fuck’ in just a few days. We really don’t waste any time, do we?” You say, grinning. 

“Yeah, I guess I underestimated how much I’d resist you, but I knew I was in trouble from the moment we got married… I thought I’d be a strong soldier, holding out a bit longer.”

He hums thinking. 

“I’m surprised I managed to hold out for as long as I did.” he finishes.

You raise an eyebrow, a naughty smile playing on your lips. "Well, I guess you’re not as disciplined as you thought. Seems like you fell for me quicker than you’d like to admit.”

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle. “You’ve got me completely hooked.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, your hand resting on his cheek. “Poor soldier. Captured by the enemy and all. What will you do now?”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. "I guess I’ll just have to surrender to you completely.”

“Even the strongest can fall. And let’s be real, I’m pretty good at making sure my soldiers surrender.” You shrugged, smirking. 

He bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel like a total pushover.”

“I plan on keeping you hooked, you know—well, at least until the next time we have a ‘conversation’ like tonight."

“Well, if this is what marriage looks like, I think I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

[alasy]

she has good intentions I know it. but it's 10pm now and although I know I didn't have a bad day, im anxious and holding back tears as if my life depends on it and i feel like i cant breathe all because of a conversation that lasted about 10 minutes on our way back home. being alive is super fun

[girlokwhatever]

okokokok soooooooo bringing it back to battle of the blondes. let’s set the scene shall we? there’s a wnba event where all three are present and they’ve all interacted with reader separately(reader could be apart of the event or a media reporter). everyone’s blonde big 3 are raving about reader to each other (without realize it’s the same person) and when they find out they’re all talking about reader…..the battle begins (def might have to be a mini series but fs has potential)

thoughts? or prayers ig?

-🫧

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ battle of the blondes,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader, emily engstler x fem!reader, kate martin x fem!reader

*just gonna call reader peach bc i don’t want to make an oc, its used like twice for plot purposes.*

oh you’ve really done it now.

you’re attending a WNBA event, something pivotal that would launch your career to the next level if it went well, and you might ruin it for yourself just by the way you’re ogling some of the women.

three women in particular.

you really needed this to go well. like, really needed it. you were planning on becoming a social media manager for one of a few teams you’ve spoken to and you were using tonight to prove yourself. it’d been going really well and you captured such great content for a few different teams but as soon as you saw them, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. just looking at them made you nervous.

kate martin was the first one to approach you, smile wide with a toothy grin that made you blush. she was nervous.

she spotted you as soon as she walked into the space, easily recognizing you from some of the work you’ve done with the aces. she even heard talk that you’d be the new content manager, something she could only pray was true.

she found her way to you quickly. but as soon as you were within arms length and already smiling at her, she realized she had no idea what she was going to say to you. she had no plan, no cheesy pick-up line, and she definitely had zero chill.

“hi kate! you wanna film some content?”

yes. but not in the way you were talking about.

“i mean, should i? i don’t know, i just saw you and wanted to say hey.” oh god, she was definitely sweating through her undershirt.

“oh okay, well it’s good to see you. how’ve you been?”

kate moves closer to you now, leaning down slightly as you talk so she can hear you better. it’s so she can hear you, not because she wants to be as close to you as possible. definitely not. that’s why when her hand hovers over your spine, gently pressing into you it’s not a big deal because she just can’t hear you.

“oh y’know, i’ve been good. i haven’t seen you at any practices recently. i’ve missed you!” she’s saying it with a friendly tone, leaning down and fanning her breath over your ear. her words immediately make you blush, a silly smile spreading on your face. she never fails to flatter you.

“aw really? i’ve missed you too money martin.”

the blonde laughs and you physically feel it. it isn’t until her body shakes your own that you realized you’re leaning into one another. it immediately makes you freeze, eyes scanning the room for disapproving glances because you need to be on your best, most professional behavior.

you don’t find what you’re looking for, extremely thankful that everyone else’s attention is elsewhere. you push away from kate slightly, turning to stand in front of her. her hand reluctantly drops from your spine but her smile never falters because at least you’re still here.

“so.. i’ve heard some rumors you might be the new media manager for the aces?”

“oh yeah, well, i don’t know. i’ve been seeing a couple teams recently.”

“oh?” oh. it’s definitely not kate’s favorite news. she felt like she really bonded with you and she wanted to have you around more, but the lack of confirmation was a little disheartening. you were so talented; all of your photos looked amazing and everyone loved them. plus, you were a sight for sore eyes. really though, kate looked at you like you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. but that’s because you were.

“are you jealous that other teams get my attention too?” you joke, poking your finger on her shoulder gently.

kate’s blushing uncontrollably, turning the same shade as her red suit. she feels like her body might be on fire simply because of your playful teasing. she’s so fucking whipped.

“oh, i- i mean, no, of course not. like you’re great so y’know, i’ll miss you and stuff. yeah.” kate curses herself for stumbling over her words, red cheeks turning crimson. you laugh it off though, smiling that big smile you’re known so well for.

“i’m just messing with you kate. i still don’t know where i’ll end up, wish i could tell you.”

she’s about to say something else, maybe compliment your pretty dress or the way your hair is done but she can’t because someone is calling her name. she pretends like she can’t hear it and continues looking at you, but you’re already looking in the direction of the voice calling out to the blonde. kate internally groans, closing her eyes to roll them in annoyance.

“well, i’ll see you around katie. it was really nice getting to talk to you.”

katie. were you giving her a nickname? the simple thought erupts butterflies in her stomach like she’s never felt before. you make her feel like a love-struck teenager again.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll see ya.” she runs her hand down your arm, gently squeezing once she reaches your palm. it feels wildly intimate for your surface level friendship but kate wants you to know. she needs you to. she can’t even help herself anymore, looking back to smile at you as she disappears into the crowd.

you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’re at a work event, not a tinder date. a few more people approach you after that and vice-versa for some media photos and videos. you take pictures of breathtaking outfits, film funny videos and short interviews, and mingle with team management and owners.

you’re in the middle of conversation with a new york liberty media manager when you feel a familiar presence behind you, a gentle hand gliding over the small of your back.

emily engstler smiled at you as you turned away from the previous and forgotten conversation. you were immediately at ease just by looking at her, pulling her into a swift embrace.

“oh my god emily, it’s so good to see you.”

“i could say the same. there’s so many people here i’m glad i spotted you.”

emily was part of the team you’d been working with the past few weeks, filming videos and pictures of the washington mystics players to put up on their social media. you two bonded very easily and quickly and it made your job much more fun, so you really grew a keen liking for her.

she felt the same, maybe a little something more than friendly though.

“how are you? having fun?”

“oh yeah, loads of fun. everyone is so sweet.” it wasn’t a lie; other than the soft but increased patter of your heart because of how good she looked, you were doing great.

“yeah? i’m glad. you look really nice by the way. i’ve never seen you dressed up like this.”

“i could say the same about you. i’m so used to seeing you all sweaty, this is a big difference.”

on the surface emily is calm and collected. she laughs lightly at your comment because it’s true, but it also leaves her a little flustered because hopefully no one heard that out of context. but a tiny part of her hopes someone did.

“do you want me to snap some pictures of you in your suit?” you offer, pointing to the camera resting around your neck.

now she’s even more flustered. she nods and moves to stand against the wall, giving you her best model-level smile as you take her picture. when you show her the pictures she almost cringes at how noticeably flushed she is. it’s all because of you and your cute dress and your even cuter smile-

“are you alright em?”

em. fuck. she’s totally done for as soon as you utter the nickname. it’s not even anything special, everyone fucking calls her that. but it sounds different coming from you. it doesn’t help that you grip her bicep just hard enough to make her a little dizzy.

“oh yeah. can we retake those? i look like a tomato.”

“for sure. i’m sorry- i think i messed up the lighting setting on the camera or something.”

she poses again, flashing you that same breath-taking smile. her hands buries itself deep in her pocket to hide the clamminess.

you can’t help but adore her from behind your device. your eyes linger on her face, watching as her eyes trace your movements as you pull the camera away. she’s much more pleased with the results this time, leaning in to affirm your media skills. emily complimented you endlessly as you showed her shots from earlier in the day too, trying to navigate her way into your heart.

“so, do you know if you’re signing with the mystics or..?”

“oh, no i don’t, not for sure anyways. i don’t think i’m supposed to tell you this but it’s definitely been talked about with management and stuff. i think they really like me.”

“how could they not?”

emily tried to keep her spirits high and wandering mind positive. if you were signed with the mystics it’d make things a lot easier for emily. things like making very clear moves on you to a possible and eventual romantic relationship, something she was interested in having with you.

she watches you smile at her comment and it only warms her heart further. she noticed you do this thing when you smile and she absolutely fucking loves it- you always tilt your head a little to the left when you smile, shrugging sometimes when it’s because of a compliment. she watches you do it now, only admiration flooding her mind and body language.

“you gotta stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like that. it’s driving me crazy”

you almost go breathless because she’s making you so nervous- was she flirting? it was making your head spin and her cheeky smile doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

you’re about to reply with some nonsense but thankfully the moment saves you, a teammate of emily’s grabbing her attention.

“hey guys! emily c’mere, there’s someone from my college team i want you to meet.”

she reluctantly waves you goodbye as she vanishes back into the crowd of people that’s only grown since she arrived. now you’re left to stand on your own, still flustered by the tall blonde when another one walks towards you, hand gently coming down on your shoulder to grab your attention.

paige bueckers greeted you with a warm smile, a genuine one that reached to her eyes. your eyes went wide with excitement upon seeing her, a smile like her own painting your features excitedly.

“paige! i had no idea you’d be here.”

“y’know i had to show up to see my fav.”

you’d worked with her before, interning with uconn’s media team last year during your last year of college. she was growing to be a big star in college basketball so you worked with her a lot. it was always a fun time, especially since she’s so photogenic.

“i know you’re working with all the pro teams now but i still think you should come back to uconn for my last year.” she teases, squeezing your shoulder as a gentle reminder that she’s still there and still so close to you.

“oh yeah? you gonna win this year?”

“you already know.”

she shoves her hands in her pockets because she realized she can’t stop touching you. even on the retreat, her smirk is relentless and unwavering within your banter together. confidence exudes from her very being and it’s unbelievably attractive, at least she hopes it is.

she’s trying to swoon you.

“really though, what team are you gonna be working with by next year? i need to know where i’m gonna end up.”

you laugh at that, a beautiful laugh that sweeps through your whole body. it’s music to paige’s ears, face heating up at your reaction but she never falters. she’s smiling and laughing with you because your energy is contagious to her, intoxicating enough to where she’s okay with becoming an addict if it means she can be like this forever. with you.

“wouldn’t you like to know.”

“yeah i would actually.”

“can’t tell you.”

“why not?”

“because i don’t know. change of subject though, let me do my job and take some pictures of you.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.”

she confidently finds her way in front of the backdrop, posing in a way you can only describe as incredibly fucking hot. she switches her pose a few times and you capture a multitude of pictures from each moment, admiring her beauty and ease.

she swiftly finds her way back to you after a few moments, not able to deny the magnetic energy that keeps pulling her to you. as you show her some of the pictures her hand loops around your torso, pulling you out of the way of passersby, but also just so she can keep close to you.

it feels like it’s been ages since the draft, which is the last time paige saw you. she wants to soak you in now because she doesn’t know when she’ll see you again. the thought sends a pang through her heart but paige is absolutely determined to make a more.. official, move on you tonight. she pulls back to look at your face, cogs in her head turning to look for the perfect thing to say when someone whisks you away.

you bid your sweet, honey-laced farewell before you’re gone in a flash. paige understands, you’re here to work. she strolls away aimlessly, spotting a few familiar faces seated at a table in the distance.

that’s how the three blondes found themselves all at the same table, all gushing about the same person without a clue.

it started with paige talking to caitlin, who eventually dragged kate into the conversation alongside emily. paige talked about you, a nameless mention of the most beautiful girl ever. she gushed to the other blondes about how happy she was to see you again, how pretty you looked, and how sweet you acted.

“i didn’t get to talk to her for long unfortunately but im still so glad i got to see her. she’s so amazing.” paige spoke confidently, leaving your identity anonymous to the rest of the girls at the table. caitlin pushes kate teasingly at the topic, piping up to add to the conversation.

“kate’s little crush is here too. won’t stop talking about her.”

“uh yeah, i saw her when i first got here. i haven’t seen her since though, i think she’s really busy y’know.” kate’s blushing, nowhere in her nightly plans did she intended to spill her guts to everyone about her massive crush on you.

“oh yeah kate, keep it modest. don’t tell them what you told me, about how pretty she looks and how talented she is and how her hair is up so nicely in a cute little half updo-”

“dude!”

“fine, fine.” caitlin’s eyes drift to the other blonde across the table, motioning to her, “what about you? anyone special here tonight?”

emily nervously clears her throat and sinks into the chair. she can’t help but smile at the simple thought of you. the word vomit comes immediately and she can’t even help it.

“oh yeah. i mean, i guess. i’ve kinda liked her for a little while and i got to talk to her earlier. she’s really cool. bro, she’s got this thing she does when she smiles- i swear it’s gonna kill me someday. i’m fucking whipped.”

“same.”

“same.”

kate and paige speak in unison, almost alarmingly. caitlin’s eyes flicker between her friends, then to aaliyah as she approaches the table. she occupies the space between emily and paige, grabbing the shoulders of both her former and current teammate.

“paige did you see peach?”

“yeah, i talked to her a little while ago.”

“did you, emily?”

“yeah i did.”

liyah winks at emily, knowing of the crush her teammate has for her friend. it makes emily blush which immediately catches paige’s eye- it’d be impossible to miss emily’s big smile at the mention of your famous nickname shared between close friends. kate doesn’t catch on, too embarrassed from caitlin’s intrusive speech to think properly.

“wait, what was that?” paige is quick to question, wanting nothing more than for her suspicions to be proven wrong.

“nothing?”

“oh my god.” caitlin breaks through the short silence. she’s pieced it all together. caitlin throws her head back in laughter almost manically because, this drama is too fucking good.

“what?” kate asks, confused as to why everyone looks so concerned.

“you guys all have a crush on the same person.”

everyone’s eyes widen; in fear, horror, shock, jealousy, disbelief, you name it. paige finds you amongst the crowd talking to a woman and can’t help but feel possessive over you. you’re hers. a similar thought seems to run through the other two blondes as well. they all grimace, faces turning sour with discontent.

“wait, you guys have a crush on peach too?” kate doesn’t even want to know the answer, heart sinking past the floor when the other blondes nod in confirmation. she wants to throw up, but more than that she wants to find you and confess her admiration towards you in hopes that you feel the same.

she has to get to you before the others.

she stands up and darts across the room as casually as possible. caitlin watches in shock because she’s never seen her close friend act this way, but there’s a first for everything.

“fuck.” paige mutters, pushing away from the table to follow kate’s trail to you. emily does the same. all the blondes have departed from their previous spots, now only concerned with the trivial task of finding you and getting you alone.

it’s no use though, all immediately arriving within the same second. your attention is inevitably drawn to all three of them as they stand before you with pleading eyes.

“guys? is everything alright?”

“no.” kate mutters, eyes shamelessly wandering over your figure with her bottom lip pulled snugly between her teeth.

“what’s.. what’s going on?”

everyone is silent, glancing around at one another before paige bravely breaks the stale silence. “we all like you peach. a lot. basically, you need to pick one. if any of us.”

“oh.”

˚ ༘♡🍓⋆｡˚🏀✧˖°🌼ʚɞ♡🍀

this was 3.1k words…. my longest fic

i really hope it lives up to the hype 😣

yall need to tell me who you want peach to end up with……. maybe all?! 😏

also this long ass fic is not spell checked

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

[nottsangel]

our girl — j.m & r.c.

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader x rafe cameron

warnings: smut 18+, violence, polyamorous relationship, threesome, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), possessiveness, degradation, praise, fingering, hair pulling, creampie, squirting, spitting, kelce and topper walking in lol

word count: 2.6k

summary: your boyfriends show their possessive side when they see someone flirting with you at a party.

a/n: based on a lucid dream i had. i died while writing this

nav. // m.list // taglist

“You want another drink?” Sarah asked, downing what was left of her drink in one gulp. “No thanks, I’m gonna look for Rafe and JJ actually, haven’t seen them yet” you replied, your surroundings slightly spinning as you were already feeling pretty intoxicated. You smiled briefly at Sarah before walking away from the pool and heading inside Rafe’s house, the music of the party increasing.

It’s been a few months since you started dating your boyfriends— yes, boyfriends, because both of them were too obsessed with you so they decided to share you, treating you like their princess. It was intense sometimes, especially at the beginning when they had to get used to one another. Besides, a lot of people had various opinions on your relationship, but you still felt thankful and privileged to have boyfriends who were so sweet and caring. Especially considering that many girls would die to be in your position. Tonight is another one of Rafe’s parties, inviting all his kook friends as well as some pogues since JJ insisted on his friends being invited too.

You walked inside the crowded house full of intoxicated people and kissing couples, trying to find them. You glanced around, seeing many familiar faces but not your boyfriends. Just as you turned to go into another room, your arm was suddenly grabbed firmly. “Hey, beautiful.” you felt relieved, thinking it must’ve been Rafe or JJ when you realised you didn’t recognise the voice. You turned around in confusion and saw a blonde frat-looking guy check you out with a smirk on his face and a red cup in his hand. His blue eyes were fully fixed on you with a cocky smile on his face.

“Do I know you?” you asked, brows knitted together in confusion as you tried your best to refresh your memory, afraid that your intoxicated state made you forget who he was. “I’m Ryan. I used to hang out with Rafe, you know, back when he used to fuck a different girl every week” he said with a chuckle as you arched an eyebrow, unsure why he would bring that up. His smile vanished at the sight of your serious expression, before continuing, “Anyway… you want a drink, sweetheart?” he asked, motioning towards the drinks table. You gazed at him, wondering if he was aware of the dangerous game he was playing.

“No, thank you. I have to g-“ you started but he quickly cut you off, “Oh, come on! You think I’m scared of your boyfriends? One drink won’t hurt, loosen up a bit” he argued before he dragged you to the drinks table. You attempted to break free from his hold, but you were too intoxicated to react quickly and he was way stronger than you, clearly taking advantage of the situation.

“Here you go.” he said, handing you a new drink as you looked at it nervously. When he noticed your anxious expression he slid a hand around your waist as he came closer to you. “Hey, hey, don’t worry. Just wanna get to know my friend’s girlfriend, that’s all. I respect Rafe, you know.” he explained, easily convincing you in your drunken state as you took the cup from him with a relieved smile.

“So, tell me about-“ he started before being interrupted in an instant when his name was called, “Ryan!” You peeked around Ryan’s towering frame and saw Rafe and JJ making their way to you. Ryan instantly took his hand off your waist and went from having a relaxed stance to one that was stiff and nervous. Rafe had a menacing smile on his face as he eyed Ryan and JJ walked next to him, toying with the toothpick in his mouth.

“I see you’ve met our girlfriend.” Rafe said, standing just inches away from you two. “Such a pretty little thing, hm?” JJ added with a cheeky grin, clearly not taking the poor guy seriously. “Yeah man, we just talked about… stuff. She-she’s nice” he stammered, evidently nervous. Rafe nodded with a downward smile on his face and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I see, I see…”. “Look man, nothing happened, okay? We just talked, that’s it.” Ryan spoke up, trying his hardest to explain himself while JJ and Rafe exchanged glances, before giving each other a nod. “Fucking dumbass.” JJ sneered under his breath as he walked over to you, an arm sliding around your waist as he placed a kiss on top of your head.

“I understand man, no worries.” Rafe reassured before placing his arm over Ryan’s shoulder, “Let’s catch up outside, hmm? We haven’t spoken in so long, lots to talk about.” Rafe said as he led Ryan outside, making you turn to face JJ with a worried expression on your face. “What’s he going to do with him, J?” you asked, your brows knitted in concern. “Sssh, don’t worry about it, baby. He’s just gonna ask him to leave, that’s all.” he reassured, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and moving his head closer before pressing his lips on yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you were heavily making out against the table, causing you to forget about everything else. You were so caught up in the moment that it took you a while to eventually pull away from JJ as he gazed down at you with a loving smile on his face.

When you glanced over JJ’s shoulder, you gasped as your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. Rafe leaned over Ryan, who was on the ground, repeatedly punching him until blood was everywhere. “JJ!” you yelled in horror while pointing at the scene. “Oh, fuck” JJ muttered, not necessarily because of Rafe beating him up, but because of you witnessing it. He quickly spun you around so your back was facing the scene before cupping your face in his hands and desperately kissing you again in an attempt to distract you. You instinctively wrapped your arms around JJ’s neck, your intoxicated state causing you to forget about the situation again and only feeling hungry for JJ as you pressed him closer to you. His hands already found your ass as he squeezed it, not giving a fuck about anyone watching.

“My room. Now” Rafe ordered as he suddenly walked past you both, causing you to pull away from JJ as you watched Rafe climb the stairs. JJ grabbed your hand as he smirked at you, “You heard him, princess. Let’s go.” he said, pulling you along and leading you upstairs.

“Am I… Am I in trouble? you asked with a soft voice, following JJ in the hallway as you passed several kissing couples. JJ chuckled as he held the door handle to Rafe’s room. “I think we both know the answer to that.” he replied, making you gulp for a moment as he opened the door.

Rafe stood in the centre of the room, his arms folded with an angry expression on his face. Rafe's intimidating frame was accentuated by the lack of light in the room, as only a few red LED lights provided illumination. Even though JJ shut the door behind him, there was still a faint sound of shouting and music coming from downstairs through the walls. “Rafe, listen, I-“ Rafe interrupted you as soon as you attempted to explain, “We do the talking here, alright?” Rafe growled as JJ joined him, standing next to him as both of them eyed you while you walked to the bed, sitting down to relieve your sore feet from the heels you were wearing.

“You didn’t have to beat him up Rafe, I swear he didn’t do anything! He just offered me a drink and-“ you stopped when you heard both of them chuckle, looking at each other before gazing down at you. “I think our girl is a little confused, whatcha think J?” Rafe smirked while approaching you. “Nah, you’re right man. I think she forgot who she belongs to.” JJ agreed, nodding as he watched Rafe walk towards you.

Rafe bent down to get at eye level with you, then aggressively gripped your face, forcing you to look at him. “Two boyfriends is not enough for you? Hmm? God, you’re such a dirty little slut.” You were too afraid to speak as you gazed up at him. “Open that pretty mouth of yours” Rafe ordered and you obliged, opening your mouth widely before Rafe spit in it, “Swallow.” You swallowed while keeping your eyes on him, faces mere inches away from each other. A satisfied smile swept across Rafe’s face as he released his grip on your face, “Good girl.”

Rafe then moved aside, allowing JJ to approach you. JJ wasted no time and pushed you onto the bed, caging you in before planting sloppy kissing all over your neck and undressing you simultaneously, causing you to moan. “Tsk, what a dumb girl we have, Rafe.” he growled, sliding the straps of your dress down your arms before fully taking it off, leaving you in just your underwear. “But so fucking beautiful.” JJ took in your beauty with hungry eyes while biting his lip. He then discarded you of your underwear as well, tossing them across the room. “Make Rafe feel good, baby.”

JJ pushed himself off you while Rafe completely undressed himself, his fully erect cock leaking precum causing anticipation to rage through your body. He looked so beautiful— the red light accentuating the muscles on his body as he gazed down at you with dark eyes. He got on the bed, sitting against the bedframe before he grabbed your hair and pulled you towards him. “Be a good girl and suck.”

You drew your head nearer, licking up the precum and swirling your tongue around the tip, earning a groan from him. He impatiently pushed your head down, forcing you down his cock. His hand grabbed your hair in a ponytail, preventing it from falling in your face as he bobbed your head up and down. “Fuck, just like that.” Rafe groaned as JJ slapped you on the ass, causing you to jolt forward.

“Our pretty girl.” JJ praised while he teased your entrance with his fingers, gathering the wetness and drawing circles on your clit. You moaned around Rafe’s cock, only egging him on as he bucked his hips upwards, causing you to gag. JJ then inserted two fingers into you with ease, as far as they could go. “So fucking wet for us.” JJ curled his fingers up inside you, pushing against your g-spot, causing your eyes to flutter shut as you let out a loud moan around Rafe’s cock once again. Rafe now grabbed your head with both hands, fully face-fucking you, using you as his personal toy, while JJ’s fingers increased their speed, causing your orgasm to approach.

“Cum around my fingers, sweet girl. Make a fucking mess.” JJ’s words pushed you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you as you felt wetness all over. “Holy fuck, she squirted everywhere” JJ exclaimed, a chuckle leaving his mouth before he licked his fingers clean. “Dirty girl” Rafe groaned, his voice low and raspy as he continued to fuck your face.

You then heard the buckle of a belt behind you, and not much later you felt JJ’s cock teasing your folds, before fully pushing himself in. “Still so tight, fuck.” He groaned before setting a steady rhythm that made you grip the sheets. The sensation was almost becoming too much— the way JJ’s cock hit your g-spot repeatedly and Rafe fucking into your mouth, saliva running down your face.

Just as you were about to come, the door suddenly swung open, the music and yelling from downstairs filling the room. JJ's thrusts came to a half when all of you looked to your side as your eyes began to widen. “Hey, Rafe, you got some- No fucking way.” “Goddamn.” Both Kelce and Topper stood in the doorway, a smirk on both their faces as they eyed every inch of your body. “Well, this is awkward.” JJ uttered as his lips tightened into a thin line. An irritated sigh left Rafe’s mouth as he rolled his eyes, “Get the fuck out before I fucking kill both of you!” He shouted, Kelce and Topper snickering when they left the room and shut the door behind them.

“Now, where were we?” JJ asked before abruptly slamming into you again, causing you to fall forward on Rafe’s chest. “Hey, hey,” Rafe took hold of your head, pulling it up with both hands as he raised his eyebrows at you, “Did I say you could stop sucking? Don’t think so.” He pushed you back on his cock with his hand behind your head, guiding you. You could feel JJ’s thrusts getting sloppy and lose rhythm, knowing he was close. “Fuck, gonna cum so deep inside this pretty pussy.” he growled before painting your walls with his warm cum, his hands firmly gripping your hips. You could feel his sperm dripping onto the bed as soon as he pulled out.

Rafe shoved you off him, causing you to look at him with a questioning expression, given that he hasn’t cum yet. “ Wanna cum inside that tight pussy of yours, filling you with both our cum.” he said as he stood up and flipped you over, causing a small squeal to leave your mouth as you were lying on your back. He grabbed your legs and spread them wider before spitting on your cunt and pushing into you in one quick thrust, making you scream out his name loudly. He immediately set a relentless pace, gripping your waist as he pounded into you while grunting, your tits bouncing to his rhythm.

“Doing so well for us, princess” JJ praised as he sat next to you, grabbing your face and kissing you passionately with his other hand massaging your boobs. You moaned into JJ’s mouth as Rafe placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching even deeper parts inside of you. “You wanna cum?” Rafe asked as you nodded, your eyes closed as your vision became blurry, “Then fucking beg for it.” “P-please, let me cum. I need to!” JJ chuckled as his hand slowly travelled to your core, drawing fast circles on your clit. “You hear that, Rafe? Our poor girl needs to cum.” Rafe groaned as he increased his speed and placed quick kisses on your legs. “Then let’s help her.”

JJ’s fingers quickened their speed as he marked your neck in hickeys, causing you to grip his arm hard, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin and Rafe was close to coming too, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you. “Gonna cum for us, sweet girl?” JJ whispered into your ear and you could only nod, unable to speak. “Gonna fill you up so fucking good, like the dirty whore you are.” Rafe groaned before his orgasm struck, filling you to the brim with his warmth. You came not long after that, walls fluttering around Rafe’s cock as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the grip on JJ’s arm tightening. “Just like that, princess. Good girl” JJ praised as you came down from your high, chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath.

Rafe pulled out slowly and bent down to place soft kisses on your cunt before getting dressed immediately, causing you to look at him with a confused expression. “Be right back. J, take good care of our girl.” He instructed before exiting the room. “Yes, sir!” JJ replied jokingly before shifting his attention back to you. “W-where is he going?” you stuttered, still feeling disoriented due to your orgasm. “Probably killing Kelce and Topper for walking in and seeing you. You know how he gets.” JJ shrugged as he picked you up bridal style before you could say anything else, taking you to the bathroom, “Don’t worry about it. Come on, lemme take care of our pretty girl.”

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[dreamwritesimagines]

Theory of Gravity

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Making small talk can be difficult with a crush.

Word Count: 1234

Genre: Fluff Oneshot

Content: Drinking, reader being awkward because she has a crush, flirting

Contrary to popular belief, snitching on the whereabouts of a very dangerous mobster in the bar you worked in and possibly getting killed or maimed in the process was not a good plan for a Friday night but to be completely honest, you had done worse things over a silly little crush.

Like back in college freshman year when you pretended to be into music biopics just so that the hot guy in your elective would think you two were meant to be.

So if anything, this was a pattern.

“Logan?” you said as you put his drink in front of him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“What was Galileo like?”

He blinked a couple of times, the familiar scowl that seemed to be etched on his handsome face getting deeper and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he said. “I will lose all the belief I’ve never had in the first place in this country’s education system if you’re serious.”

You gave him a bright smile. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I figured it was better than asking how the public took it when Newton came up with the theory of gravity.”  

The look on his face couldn’t be described with anything but complete horror and you let out a laugh, then went to serve another customer before quickly making your way to him.

“I’m just messing with you,” you said, leaning against the bar as you stole a look at the mobster sitting by the table with his men, then to Wade who was very, very busy with Vanessa by the corner.

“You look nervous,” Logan pointed out, making your head whip up before you cleared your throat.

“Nah, not at all,” you said. “I’m just thinking that if I die tonight, I’ll die doing what I love.”

“Which is?”

Gazing at older men who couldn’t look less interested in me.

“Being surrounded by drunk people who want to give me money,” you said. “Not a bad way to go.”

He scoffed into his drink before taking a sip while you nibbled on your lip, shifting your weight.

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said, his voice gruff. “We’re just waiting for his partner to show up, then we will deal with them both.”

You nodded your head. “Yeah. Sure, I know.”

“Do you?”

You nodded again, absentmindedly reaching out to play with the cocktail straw on the counter, painfully aware of his gaze on you that made your face burn.

“How’s grad school?”

…He remembered.

He remembered you saying that the last time he and Wade were here.

One simple observer would’ve thought he was on his knees proclaiming his undying love for you with the way your heartbeat went insane and his eyebrows rose as if he could hear it, but you quickly casted the thought away from your mind; that was surely impossible.

“Oh it’s going well!” you said, your voice going high-pitched for a moment. “Came for the hot professors, stayed for the education—I’m joking,” you added in a haste, waving a hand in the air. “I’m a very…very deep and intellectual individual.”

“Uh huh.”

“And none of my professors are hot,” you muttered and wiped at the damp spot on the counter with a napkin. “They should put that on the brochure if you ask me, it’s important information.”

“So you’ll be a doctor?”

“If by some miracle my dissertation goes through the jury,” you pointed out. “How about you? How’s your roommate situation with Wade going?”

He only grumbled something under his breath and you bit back a smile, then topped his drink.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

If there was one thing you hated the idea of more than dying was proving Freud right but it looked like you were going two for two tonight.

“So uh,” you said, trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms because of his deep voice. “Hey, at least you have the place to yourself sometimes, no? When Wade is with Vanessa? Should give you some time to…bring someone home.”

And I volunteer as tribute.

He raised his brows, his unwavering gaze pinning you to your spot and you cleared your throat.

“Or—or someones,” you stammered. “Sky is the limit if you’re into that sort of thing. Now that it came up by the way, are…are you?”

“Am I bringing people home?” he asked as if he wanted to make sure that was what you were asking and you shrugged your shoulders, your face on fire.

“I’m just asking because, you know,” you began the sentence without having a clue on how you would finish it as usual. “I’m great at giving relationship advice, so if you were in a relationship I could be your own personal relationship coach.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion and you reached out to get the bowl full of peanut shells from his right just so that you could keep yourself busy, then turned the bowl over the garbage can.

“I’m not,” he said and you swallowed thickly.

“Who has the time for that these days, am I right?”

“Do you have—”

“Yes I have the time!” you cut him off, nodding your head in enthusiasm, your heart beating in your ears but he had already finished his sentence;

“…ice?”

You hoped to God tonight was the night you’d die because if that mobster in the corner didn’t shoot you, you were going to have to ask Wade to do it just to save you from this embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said after a beat as he stared at you. “Yeah—yeah I have ice, sorry.”

You rushed to get some ice and put it into his whiskey, biting inside your cheek and he cleared his throat.

“You don’t want to go out with me sweetheart.”

Well good news was that you had already made a fool of yourself so one could think the bar for your self-respect couldn’t get any lower, but boy oh boy you had already brought your metaphorical shovel.  

“I disagree,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I would very much love to if you were interested.”

“You think I’m not interested?”

“I feel like I’d have a better chance at proving you’re not interested with dates and references than my own thesis,” you pointed out. “And that’s saying something—”

“I am interested,” he cut you off, making your eyes widen and you gawked at him, frozen in your spot. “Trust me, that’s not the problem here.”

“Am I getting the I’m too dangerous for you speech?” you heard yourself ask through disbelief. “Because screw that speech. Honestly, the only thing I’m focused on in here is if you—fuck!”

He pulled his brows together. “If I—?”

“No no!” you said as you pointed at the back door where two men were dragging Wade through. “Wade!”

Logan cussed under his breath as he shot up from his stool.

“Don’t go anywhere, we’ll talk about this later,” he told you and made his way to the back door while you heaved a sigh, leaning back to the counter as he stepped outside and you caught the sight of him grabbing a man by the neck before the door slammed shut. You pressed a hand over your chest, then tilted your head back with a groan.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself. “That was smooth.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Heart VI

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You like Patri's birds

It was sitting in a charity shop.

The camera that is.

It's an old camera, kind of battered from a life well used but still seemingly in working order.

Honestly, it's kind of retro and Mapi really likes the look of it.

She'd only been passing by, off to the shops to get Ingrid some chocolate and stock up on milk. She wasn't quite sure why she stopped to stare but she does.

It's sitting in a box with a roll of old photo film and a camera strap to wear around your neck.

She goes into the charity shop and buys the camera, a steal of ten euros with the roll of film and the strap included.

So, Mapi comes back to the house with Ingrid's chocolate, a pint of milk and a new camera.

"Hey, sunshine," Mapi says, patting the spot on the sofa next to her," Come here."

You sit with her happily and Mapi shows you the camera. She demonstrates how it works and shows you how it prints off the photo immediately like your more modern Polaroid.

"It'll take us a while to find some more film," Mapi tells you," But, here, I've got an idea. You've got maybe four or five pictures left. I want you to really think about what you like and what you want because what you take a picture of, me and Mama will buy it for you. Sound good?"

You nod.

"Good girl."

When Ingrid heard of Mapi's plan, she expected you to start taking pictures of everything right away.

You carry your new camera everywhere with you, the worn strap hanging around your neck.

But you don't take any pictures whatsoever.

You look like you want to but, with an impressive amount of control of a kid, you stop yourself.

You're waiting for something, Ingrid thinks.

You're good at waiting.

You waited for years for your Santa Heart. You can wait to take a picture too.

That's much easier than living in a hospital bed.

Your surgical site has healed up now, leaving only the sliver of a scar that Ingrid still finds herself compulsively checking over at bath time, just to check that nothing's changed with it.

Your check ups have decreased to once every three months now and you're coming along leaps and bounds.

"Patri!" Mapi calls out from the kitchen," Have you got anything kid friendly in here?"

Ingrid sits on Patri's sofa as the rest of the team mill around for team bonding.

Mapi had gone snooping in the kitchen immediately to get snacks for herself and you.

"Yeah, should be in the top cupboard!" Patri yells back.

She's much more preoccupied with bringing her two birds out of their cage to show you.

You're enamoured by them, oohing and aahing ever since you first saw them in the cage earlier.

"You need to be very careful with them," Patri tells you," They're nervous."

"They're pretty," You say," Pretty birds."

"Would you like to hold them?"

"Yes, please!"

These birds are the prettiest birds in the world. They're very sweet as they sit on your arms, making soft little chirping noises and demonstrating tricks for you to see.

It's hard to separate you from the birds for the rest of the day, completely enamoured by them and Patri seems both delighted and surprised that you love them so much.

They're all you talk about on the way home from team bonding and all you talk about during your bath and bedtime routine.

Ingrid's taken control of that for tonight as Mapi changes into her pyjamas and feeds Bagheera some treats.

"Mami?"

She turns with a smile.

"Have you come to say goodnight, sunshine?"

You nod. "Mama is choosing our story. She said I've got to say goodnight now."

Mapi crosses the room quickly, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek. "I love you."

"Love you," You echo, suddenly looking extremely nervous.

Mapi frowns. "What's up? Huh? What's wrong?"

"I...er...I...Mami I used my new camera."

"There's nothing wrong with that. That's what it's there for."

"No, I..." You nibble at your bottom lip. "I think I did it wrong. I took pictures of something you can't get me."

Mapi's frown only deepens and she kneels down to your height, hand going to rest on your cheek. "Why don't you show me?"

"I don't want you to be mad."

"How about this? I'm going to close my eyes and you can give me a picture and run off back to Mama and go to bed. We can discuss it tomorrow."

"Okay, Mami. Eyes closed."

The little Polaroids are placed into Mapi's hands and she waits until your footsteps have gone silent to open them again.

"Oh, sunshine," Mapi says to herself.

All five pictures are of the same thing.

Patri's birds.

One of them in their cage.

One of them pressed up against the bars.

One of them on Patri's head.

One of them on your arm.

One of them of you and them cuddled up together.

Ingrid inspects them that evening.

"I don't know what to do!" Mapi exclaims in bed, head resting on Ingrid's chest," She really liked Patri's birds and I told her that whatever she photographed she could have! But she seemed so nervous like she didn't even want to ask!"

"Mapi," Ingrid says," She was nervous because she thinks we won't want to buy her birds. You told her just last week that cats don't like birds and we do have Bagheera."

"Bagheera's lazy," Mapi replies," She won't care about birds."

"Then what are you worried about?"

"I...I don't really know. Are you okay with us having birds?"

Ingrid smiles, cheeks going slightly red. "I was already looking for cages."

It's been weeks since you first met Patri's birds and you're just as obsessed with them are you first were when you met them.

Patri seems to love it, endlessly bragging and showing off new pictures to you that you suitably coo over and secretly wish you had a pair of your own.

But you don't push Mama and Mami on it.

Bagheera is a cat and cats don't like birds. It says so in your storybook so you wish for birds secretly and clip the pictures you took of Patri's onto the soft fairy lights that hang around your room.

You wish you had birds of your own but that'll be something that happens when you're an adult like how Mami and Mama are adults and have Bagheera.

Ingrid holds you up on her hip as she walks from the elevator to the front door, easily carrying you, the shopping and unlocking the door all at the same time.

"Tia Ale wants a baby," You tell Ingrid," She told me so."

"That's because you're just so cute," Ingrid replies, fluttering kisses all over your cheeks," Alexia's got baby fever."

"But I'm not a baby."

"You're my baby," Ingrid declares," Mine and Mami's baby."

You giggle, the kisses tickling you.

"Now," Ingrid says, setting you down," Mami has a surprise for you in your bedroom, okay? You have to be very quiet and very responsible. Can you do that for me?"

You nod. "I can."

Ingrid gives you one last kiss on the cheek. "I knew you would be. Why don't you head in to see Mami?"

Mapi is standing by your bedroom door, giving you her customary kiss and cuddle before opening your bedroom door.

By the foot of your bed is a big cage with a blanket over it.

You gasp.

"Mami-?"

Mapi nods.

"I told you I'd get what you photographed. Do you want to meet your new birds, sunshine?"

[grapejuicenharry]

Angel

Harry and Y/N are best friends— except they have feelings for each other (4k words)

warnings : smut 18+, fluff, kissing, grinding, jealous h

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Harry really liked—no, loved—Y/N, but he would never admit it to her. She was his best friend, and he couldn’t imagine a day without her. She was like sunshine in his life, someone he could always rely on.

“Harry, my feet hurt,” Y/N whined beside him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy from one too many drinks. They were walking back from a party thrown by one of Harry’s friends, Alex. It was his birthday, and even though Harry and Y/N hadn’t planned to attend, today had been their last exam of the semester. That called for celebratory drinks after all the hard work they’d put in. Sleepless, stressful nights spent preparing for exams, completing assignments, and submitting papers—it had all been overwhelming, and tonight felt like the ideal way to finally blow off some steam.

“Didn’t I warn you about those heels?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice as he raised an eyebrow. He knew those heels always gave her trouble and told her to wear something more comfortable, but Y/N, being Y/N, never listened.

“Yeah, but they make me look sexy, and I wanted to be tall enough to at least reach your neck,” she replied absentmindedly.

“Well, guess that means I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” Harry said, and before she could protest, he hoisted her up onto his shoulders.

“Harry, my dress is too short! I’m going to flash everyone,” Y/N laughed, though there was no real concern in her voice.

Harry chuckled, placing his hand carefully to keep her covered. Besides, the streets were almost empty at 2 a.m., and there was hardly anyone around to notice.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Y/N met Harry on the first day of college. She was nervous and eager to make friends. Hurrying to her seat, she noticed Harry sitting next to her. The first thing she saw was his mop of curly hair, and she thought he was incredibly cute. He looked so innocent and nerdy in his black-rimmed glasses. He was just too adorable.

He wore a white T-shirt that highlighted his bulging biceps, with tattoos peeking through. Suddenly, Y/N found herself wanting to see every tattoo that adorned his beautiful body. She was so curious and lost in her thoughts about him that she didn’t realize Harry was, in fact, looking at her.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry thought he was dreaming as he looked at Y/N. She seemed like an angel, a beautiful one at that. She wore a cute white hoodie adorned with pink bows, and her curly hair framed her lovely face perfectly. What captivated him the most were her eyes; they were alluring, radiant, and a luminous shade of dark brown. Next were her luscious pink lips, so full and plump that he suddenly wanted to kiss them and taste them. He wondered if they tasted like berries or cherries, secretly hoping they tasted like cherries, his favorite fruit.

“Do you have an extra pen?” Y/N asked in a hushed voice. “I forgot to bring my pouch,” she added with a little pout.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, fixing his glasses, clearing his throat, and answering in a hoarse voice. He couldn’t believe she was actually talking to him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Later that day, they sat together at lunch, talking as if hours had passed. Y/N was so grateful to have found someone as kind as Harry, who listened to every word she said with such intent. They chatted about random topics, like their favorite TV shows and ice cream flavors. When Harry revealed that his favorite flavor was mint chocolate chip, Y/N made a weird face.

“Shut up—no, don’t you dare say it!” Harry exclaimed, amused.

“But it tastes like toothpaste!” Y/N whined playfully.

“No, it does not!” Harry shot back. Y/N made a mental note to convince Harry to try every other flavor until he grew to hate mint chocolate chip.

They soon became inseparable—best friends. Harry didn’t realize just how much he had started to like Y/N until it was almost too late. He thought frequently about confessing his true feelings, but there never seemed to be the right moment. He cherished the friendship they had, and the thought of losing her terrified him to his core. So he kept those feelings hidden, bottled up, and accepted her as his best friend.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Harry set Y/N down on the couch when they reached her apartment. He kneeled down to take off her heels. “Ouch, slowly please,” YN whined.

“I am never letting you wear these stupid shoes again. Your feet are all red and swollen,” Harry countered, looking genuinely concerned. He hated seeing Y/N in pain. He wanted to protect her from everything and keep her safe in his cocoon—just him and Y/N.

He then carefully carried a sleepy Y/N to her bedroom and started looking for a comfortable shirt for her to wear. After finding a suitable shirt, he went to the bathroom to grab her makeup wipes and returned to find half-asleep Y/N lying on the bed. “Sweetheart, this will only take two minutes, I promise.” He began wiping her face gently.

After getting Y/N all ready for bed, Harry changed his own clothes. Y/N had “borrowed” too many of his shirts, but honestly, he never minded it. In fact, he secretly liked when Y/N wore his clothes. She looked breathtaking in his oversized shirt paired with her tiny shorts, which made Harry lose his mind.

“Come to bed and cuddle me; I need to sleep,” Y/N grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Coming, sweetheart, just two minutes,” Harry replied with a smile. He knew how grumpy Y/N got when she was sleepy. He quickly climbed into bed, set his glasses on the side table, and pulled her to his side. Cuddled next to him, Harry didn’t mind being the big spoon. He loved having Y/N molded to his side—the sweet scent of her hair, which smelled like strawberries on a sunny day, and the soft skin that felt like vanilla sundae. He adored every inch of her. Whenever he was with her, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything around him was rainbows and sunshine; she made everything look like it was through rose-tinted glasses.

But Harry also loved being the little spoon. There were days when he just wanted to be held, and honestly, Y/N loved having him like that—clingy, needy, like a cute little puppy.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

One day, Harry arrived at Y/N’s apartment looking extremely worn out. Y/N was lying on the bed, comfortably engrossed in her favorite novel. She grew concerned upon seeing Harry. 

“I am so exhausted, and my head hurts,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his bag on the floor. “I had to sit in Professor Martin’s class for two hours, plus I had a psychology presentation today,” he stated tiredly while rubbing his drowsy eyes behind his frames. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry you had such a long day, baby. Come on, lie down, and I’ll massage your head,” Y/N replied, removing the blanket from her lap. Harry immediately climbed onto the bed and dropped his head in Y/N’s lap. She carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the side table before starting to massage his head.

She threaded her fingers in his curls, scratching his head lightly, rubbing, and applying just the right amount of pressure. Harry let out a soft moan as he could already feel the tension melting away, his body instinctively relaxing further into her lap.

 “Feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled against her legs. 

As her skilled fingers glided over his scalp, working their magic and easing the stress that had built up after a long week. 

Y/N smiled, enjoying the way he melted under her touch. She varied her movements, alternating between gentle rubs and firmer pressure, focusing on the areas where he seemed to carry the most stress. Her fingers danced through his hair, and she leaned forward slightly to whisper, “You deserve this. Just relax.”

After what seemed like hours of massaging, Y/N realized Harry had fallen soundly asleep on her lap. His face looked peaceful, with his eyes closed and soft snores slipping through his pretty pouty lips. He looked so adorable, and Y/N couldn’t help but wish she could freeze time to savor this moment longer.

Knowing Harry would probably complain about his back in the morning, she gently shifted him, lifting his head from her lap and placing it on a pillow. His brows furrowed slightly, so she soothingly rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away any lingering tension. Half asleep, Harry instinctively moved closer, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist and nuzzling his face against her boobs. His personal pillow: He always has the best sleep whenever she holds him. Y/N smiled down at him. His curls tickled her jaw, and she couldn't resist leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his head.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” Y/N whispered, smiling at Harry, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Harry was never the jealous type—at least, not until Y/N came into his life. but right now he cant help but a bitter sensation rises up his throat when he sees yn with Jacob. A total douchebag who flirts with every girl in the college, Standing next to Y/N, too closely according to harry. Harry had come to find Y/N so they could grab tacos at their favorite spot, but instead, he’s witnessing this. Does Y/N like him? Does she have a crush on him that he doesn’t know about? What if Y/N is interested in him and wants to end her friendship with Harry? Will she forget about him? All these questions overwhelm Harry’s mind at the sight. No, no—Y/N was only his. His best friend, his angel, his sweetheart. She would never do something like this. His chest suddenly started burning at such thoughts. 

Jacob says something which makes Y/N burst into laughter. His chest tightens at the sight. He wants to be the only person to make yn laugh like that. He curses inwardly that jacob gets to experience the sweet melody of her laughter, her laugh that can instantly brighten up the room with warmth and sunshine. He thinks to himself, Does Jacob know her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs? or how the mole under her right eye disappears when she laughs because of the fullness of her cheeks? 

“Oi, whatchu looking at?” Y/N snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s face. He hadn’t realized she had come over and was talking to him. “You look like you could kill someone,” she teased, giggling as she spoke to him. 

“Was that Jacob talking to you?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual even though he was fuming inside. “Yeah, he wanted my chemistry notes because apparently he spilled coffee on his,” Y/N replied, wrapping her arm around Harry's as they walked together. 

“Did you give them to him?” Harry asked, mentally cursing Jacob and hoping she hadn’t. 

“No, obviously I know he just wanted an excuse to hit on me. I’m not dumb,” Y/N exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you know I don’t like sharing my notes with anyone except for you, because you know how to take care of them.” She chided and planted a kiss on Harry’s cheek. His face instantly heated. 

“Good,” Harry whispered quietly, fixing his glasses, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to hide the blush of his cheek and unable to suppress a smile at the thought of Y/N rejecting that jerk. 

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

Harry loves when Y/N gets touchy like this with him. When randomly she hugs him, kisses him on his cheek, forehead, or settles on his lap while watching a movie. Her spontaneous kisses leave a soft tingle on his skin, and he can’t help but smile every time she curls up in his lap. It’s in these moments he feels closest to her, as if every touch and every kiss is a silent confession of how much she means to him. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist, pulling her in a little tighter, enjoying the way she fits perfectly against him. The movie on the screen fades into the background; all he can focus on is the warmth of her body and the way she makes him feel—like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. It all feels so natural. And they never have those awkward moments because they both love these touches. Whenever yn touches him, he feels electricity buzzing through him, in a good way. His skin feels like jello and his heart is thumping loudly, His brain is all muddled with goo and sparkles. 

He wants to treasure those moments forever and constantly wishes for more and more. 

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

It was one of those rare evenings for Harry and Y/N, Where the world seemed to quiet down just for them. They had just finished with their midterms and needed this for the longest time. Dim yellow lights, a bottle of red wine sitting on the table, a soft record player playing in the background. Legs tangled under the blanket as Harry and Y/N sat closer to each other, just enjoying each other’s presence. The warmth of Yn’s body pressed against him felt like home.

Harry’s fingers absentmindedly played with a strand of Y/N’s hair, twirling it between his fingertips. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail — the curve of her lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Harry whispered, his voice low and soft, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a soft smile and cheeks already flushed because of wine, changed into a deeper shade of red at his words. “You always say that.” Slurred her words lightly. 

“Because it’s true,” he murmured, leaning in closer, their faces just inches apart. His fingers gently tugging at her bottom lip, eyes flickering to her mouth. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of telling you that.” 

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with unspoken words and emotions. Y/N felt her heart race as Harry’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with something deeper than just affection.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Y/N tilted her head, her lips brushing against Harry’s in the softest kiss, testing the waters. It was brief- just a featherlight kiss- but enough to send a shockwave through him. Harry let out a quiet sigh, his hand moving to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, slow and tender. As he leaned in closer, Y/N gently pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, making it easier for them to get lost in each other. Suddenly, he realized what he had done.

Harry pulled back immediately, his eyes wide with surprise at his own action.

“Sorry,” he blurted out, his voice panicked. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing, but there was no trace of anger or discomfort on her face. Instead, she smiled softly, a warmth blooming in her chest at his sudden vulnerability. “No, Harry… It’s okay.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean—”

“Harry,” Y/N interrupted gently, her voice barely a whisper as she moved closer, her hand resting on his cheek. “It’s okay, I want this, I promise.”

Harry couldn’t quite grasp what was happening—it all felt too surreal, like something straight out of his dreams. Yet, here it was, playing out in real time. In the blink of an eye, Y/N tossed the blanket aside and straddled his lap. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt as she pressed closer to him, wanting to be as near as possible. Her fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his shirt, before cradling his face. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a deep kiss.

Harry was still trying to make sense of it all, but instinctively, his hands found their place—one tangling in her hair, the other resting gently on her neck.

The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions that had been simmering under the surface for so long. His lips were soft, and she could taste the faint hint of wine on them. Their lips molded perfectly, like it was meant to be. Time seemed to blur. It must have been five minutes, or five hours; neither of them knew. It was a heated blend of tongue, teeth, and lips. 

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it. Harry pulled back, catching his breath, resting his forehead against hers. His heart pounded, blood rushing south; he was so hard, making him ache beneath her. 

“Can I take off your top, baby?” He whispered, his breath warm against her jaw as he kissed and nipped at it.

“Yes, yes, please,” she murmured, and that was all the permission Harry needed. He swiftly pulled off her shirt—his shirt—and eagerly ran his hands over her smooth, soft skin. 

“So soft, your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his hands working behind her, unclasping her bra. 

Her tits were a piece of art—Round, so full and perfectly perky. His large hands cup them, gently rolling the nipple between his fingers. 

Now she sat only straddling him in her thin, barely there sleeping shorts; she could feel his hard cock beneath her, thick and throbbing, nudging her entrance. Her dampness was seeping through both of their shorts. A delicious remainder, how much she wanted him. He could feel her cunt fluttering around nothing, desperate for him. 

 Harry had to shut his eyes and  take  a few steady breaths as his chest rose and fell with anticipation. Slowly, he leaned forward, prepping light kisses along the curve of her breast. Y/N moaned softly, arching her back, giving him more access to her boobs. He latched onto her nipple, sucking lightly, while his free hand teased her other breast, tugging and rolling the sensitive nub. Y/N hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, writhing on his cock couldn’t help but start grinding, writhing on his lap.  

"Feels good," she murmured, eyes closed as  she gently took his glasses from his head and placed them on the couch next to them, her fingers threaded through his messy curls. His cock twitched beneath her, nudging her clit, and she could feel her body growing even wetter, soaking through the fabric that separated them. Harry kept switching between her breasts, his mouth worshipping each one as he sucked harder, sending jolts of pleasure through her core.

Making her more drenched 

“Just like that, ride me Y/N” Harry growled, his voice low and demanding. His hands slid from her breast to her waist, guiding her movements. Making her move forward and backward, her clothed, dripping core dragged across his cock, making them both shiver with need. His tattoos peeked through as he finally tugged his shirt off, revealing his inked chest - abs flexing under the butterfly, the black ink stark against his flushed, heated skin.

Y/N's fingers trailed down, dragging her nails across his chest, loving the way his tattoos twisted beneath her touch. She leaned down, biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Harry groaned, loving the possessiveness of it—her mark on him. He was hers. 

“You’re doing so good, Angel” he murmured, nipping her ear. Harry was a complete mess beneath her. His eyes glossy, pupils blown away with lust, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips slick and swollen from their kisses. He looks so sexy, Y/N leaned forward, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, swallowing each other’s  moans while increasing her pace. 

He could not believe Y/N was on top of him, grinding against his cock, her sweet little moans filling the air. He was sure he’d reached heaven. He glanced down between them, seeing the wet patch her arousal had left on his shorts, mixed with his own pre cum. 

As Y/N ground herself against him, her clit dragged over the thick length of his cock, and each upward motion had his tip grazing her entrance. The feeling made them both shiver. Her blunt nails dug into his shoulders as her eyes squeezed shut in bliss, her lip caught between her teeth, trying to hold back a whimper. 

Harry slid his hand down, rubbing her clit with his thumb in slow, tight circles, giving her that extra bit of pleasure she craved. “I want you to feel good, baby,” he whispered, his fingers working faster, determined to push her over the edge. His angel deserved to feel good. 

Y/N threw her head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. “I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered meekly, her voice shaking. Harry quickened his pace, his fingers pressing into her clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick and desperate.

Y/N cries out as her orgasm rips through her, the coil in her belly finally exploding, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She felt like she was floating—fireworks and butterflies all at once. 

She has never cum so hard in her life. Her fingers never did the job, and vibrators were too boring for her. 

Below her, she feels Harry twitching. He buries  his face in her neck, biting down a patch of her skin to stifle his own moan as he reached the brink. Both arms wrapped around her waist, his eyes shut, loud and desperate whimpers falling from his lips. 

“That’s it, honey,” Y/N cooed, her voice soft and soothing, threading her fingers through his damp curls as she continued to ride him. She could feel him shaking beneath her as his orgasm finally hit, releasing with a loud groan as his body went rigid. His vision blurred, ears ringing, as the bliss overwhelmed him completely. He felt like he was in paradise, his body melting into hers.

For a moment, they just stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, hearts beating in sync, both of them coming down from their highs. Still trying to make sense of what just happened. Harry let out a breathy laugh, looking for his glasses and placing them again on his face. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, still catching his breath.

Y/N smiled down at him, her fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest, loving how warm he felt under her touch. “And you’re a mess,” she teased softly, laughing with him. Harry grinned, pulling her closer.

"Yeah, but I’m your mess," he murmured, kissing her softly, the intimacy between them palpable.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, exchanging gentle kisses. “I want this with you, Y/N” Harry whispered, “I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something for you. That I don’t feel this whenever I’m around you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as his words hit her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Harry pressed on, the confession spilling out of him like a flood. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to ruin us. You’re my best friend, Y/N. The most important person in my life, and I was terrified of messing that up. But tonight... it just felt right. It always felt right with you.” 

The air hung heavy between them, the weight of his confession pulling her down, making her chest tighten. Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had always felt something too—always pushed it aside, too afraid of what it would mean for them and for their friendship. But now that it was out there, she couldn’t run from it anymore.

Harry’s eyes softened behind his glasses,  his heart racing a mile a minute. He had finally said it—the words he never thought he’d be able to voice, yet they spilled out of him because he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He had to tell Y/N everything. 

But he still didn’t know if she felt the same, if she liked—no, loved—him back. And though the thought of her rejecting him terrified him, he was ready for it. His heart would shatter into a million pieces, but he would respect her decision, even if it meant she wanted him out of her life completely. It would hurt—of course, it would—but the idea of staying by her side and making her uncomfortable hurt even more.

He braced himself for her response, never expecting what she would say next.

 “I love you, Harry. I think I’ve loved you for a long time... but I was too much of a coward to confess it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. “All this time, I didn’t want to lose you, so I just... ignored it. But tonight? It meant everything. I want this with you too.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear. 

“I always thought you had a thing for Emma from our sociology class,” Y/N added with a teary giggle, realizing how silly it sounded now.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion. Emma? He had never thought of her as more than a classmate. His friends had mentioned once or twice that Emma might have a crush on him, but he’d never taken it seriously. His focus had always been on Y/N.

Before he could explain, Y/N cut him off. “But now I get it—you don’t like her. It was probably just my insecurities talking,” she said softly, her eyes dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

“Baby, Y/N, look at me,” Harry gently commanded. “I had no idea you were worrying about all of this. Emma? I’ve probably spoken to her five times at most, and I don’t like her that way at all. You have nothing to be insecure about.” He cupped her jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, my angel. The only girl I love and care about.”

Harry's thumb continued to stroke Y/N's cheek gently, his eyes soft and unwavering as he held her gaze. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I’ve never even thought about anyone else the way I think about you. It’s always been you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the insecurity that had weighed her down for so long now starting to lift. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry wasn’t finished. His other hand slid down to cradle her waist, pulling her more closer if that was possible. They were basically molded together. 

“I love the way you say my name; I love how you play with my rings whenever you get nervous; I love the way you get excited over little things; I love the way you get grumpy whenever you are hungry; I love the way you look at me when you think I am not paying attention. And I love you; don’t ever want you to doubt that, okay?” 

Y/N felt warmth flood her chest as his words washed over her. She’d spent so long overthinking everything, never realizing that Harry had been feeling the same all along.

She blinked back the last of her tears, smiling up at him. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of emotion.

Harry pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there. “Because you care so much,” he murmured against her skin. “And that’s one of the things I love about you.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. the tension in her body melting away.

Harry resting his chin on the top of her head. “But now, no more hiding, yeah? No more overthinking or doubting. It’s just us now. I’m yours, and I’ve always been.”

Y/N tilted her head back to look at him, her smile widening as her fingers laced through his. “Just us,” she repeated softly.

Harry’s heart swelled as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice a gentle promise.

────୨ৎ──THE END──୨ৎ─────

[buttdumplin]

kyle who very early on realizes that you can't fall asleep to silence, putting the pieces together that first time you walked him through your setup on a late night call. he doesn't mention anything, lets you play it off as this ritual you've put in place, picking a movie to put on every night for weeks on end. he says nothing, only keeps track of how often you change movies, unsurprised that it was an early marvel film that kept you the longest. he hasn't spent the night yet and he knows the exact volume and brightness settings you pick for bedtime. he just waits and listens, matching your pace.

and after months of bedtime calls and snuck-in goodnight messages, kyle is rewarded with a gift, one he recognizes in its entirety. you ask him what you should put on.

a couple of weeks prior, you mentioned the light coming from the tv starting to keep you up, so the timing is perfect

what about a bedtime story?

your knee jerk reaction is to laugh, less at the suggestion and more at the words. that's such a silly thing isn't it? it's something a kid does, something a kid needs. and you don't.

you like my voice, you fall asleep on calls with me all the time

you can't even try to deny that, you know you've both kept score and it doesn't add up in your favor. okay, fine, you'll bite. but what if he doesn't have something to read from? what would it even be about?

do you trust me?

you do. you do.

you're nervous that first night, going through all of the motions of settling while on the phone with him. part of you worries that he'll realize that this is silly and he'll back out. which would be fine, you tell yourself. if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. the remaining part of you is scared it will.

the only light left in the room is the glow from your phone when he starts. his tone is low and deep, a slow steadiness you hear most often when you're in his arms. you don't focus on the words, just the sound of his voice, closing your eyes because when you do, you can almost feel the warmth of his body next to yours. slowly, you relax, softening into the bedding, pillows cocooning you all around. you remember hearing a smile in his voice as your breathing evens out.

the next morning comes in a flash and you find yourself in the exact same position you fell asleep in. you scramble to turn your phone, afraid he's disappeared. but there's a text already waiting for you.

sleep well?

he'd be entirely too proud of himself if he could see the smile on your face, but you can't bring yourself to lowball him. better than you can last remember, you tell him.

good. i have another picked out for tonight

a single night is all it takes for kyle to become your nightly ritual.

as your nightly calls grow longer, you're no longer sure quite when they end. fuck, you can't even keep track of the narrative. he could be telling you the same story over and over and you wouldn't even know. you fall asleep too fast to catch any of the details. and still he calls, every night he can

he even records himself for the nights he can't call, sending you a different story every time he has to leave. that way you both know he's still with you, and he knows you're sleeping well.

[pucksandpower]

Big Bad Wolf

Day 27 → Hunter/Prey 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content and Jos Verstappen

Kinktober Masterlist

You sit on the edge of your bed, fingers nervously twisting the hem of your dress. The laughter and chatter from the other girls preparing fills the small room, but it only makes your heart pound harder. The scent of pine and earth wafts through the cracked window, mingling with the sharp tang of nerves and excitement.

Tonight is the night. Your first run.

“Are you ready?” The question comes from Emma, sitting at the mirror across from you. Her voice is steady, calm. Of course it is. She’s been through this twice already and hasn’t been chosen. Tonight’s her third, and the final chance. She looks at you through the mirror, her eyes soft with understanding. “I was terrified the first time too.”

You shake your head quickly. “I’m not terrified,” you mutter, even though the words sound like a lie as soon as they leave your mouth. “Just … nervous.”

Emma lets out a laugh, light but knowing. “Nervous is just another word for terrified when it comes to the run. Everyone is. Even if they don’t admit it.”

Across the room, Sara slips on her shoes, her lips pulling into a smirk. “Some of us aren’t scared at all,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder in a practiced motion. “Some of us are ready for whatever the night brings.”

Emma rolls her eyes, and you can’t help but smile. Sara’s been talking nonstop about how this is her year, how she can feel it. She’s been practicing for this night as long as anyone can remember, and her confidence is nearly contagious.

“Not everyone can be the next Alpha’s mate, Sara,” Emma says, rising to adjust her dress. “Some of us are just trying to make it through without tripping over our own feet.”

Sara gives Emma a playful shove. “Hey, speak for yourself. The run is all about instinct. If you trip, maybe it’s just the universe’s way of telling you you’re not cut out for this.” She throws you a glance, her smile softening. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just … stay out of my way.”

You let out a breath, trying to relax the tightness in your chest. “I don’t think you need to worry about me being competition,” you say with a wry smile.

Sara shrugs. “Hey, you never know. There’s always a chance.”

Emma shoots you a reassuring look before slipping her hand into yours, squeezing briefly. “You’ll be fine. You just have to breathe and trust yourself. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being you.”

The sentiment is nice, but it does little to calm the storm of emotions inside you. Everyone here has been through it before — at least once. You’re the newcomer, the one who’s never run, who’s never had to face the possibility of being chosen — or worse, not chosen.

“You’re gonna do great,” Emma says again, as if saying it enough times will make it true.

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself,” you admit quietly, your hands fiddling with the laces on your boots. The soft leather feels grounding beneath your fingers, but it does little to stop the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

“You won’t,” Emma assures. “Trust me, it’s not as bad as it seems. Sure, you’re gonna be running for your life, but … y’know, in a romantic way.”

Sara snorts from across the room. “That’s one way to put it.”

Emma glares at her. “What? It’s true! It’s about the chase, about the excitement. That’s what makes it so exhilarating.”

“But it’s also about who’s chasing you,” Sara adds, leaning against the wall with a smug smile. “You know the males are going to be out in full force this time. The rumors about Max have everyone on edge. Every girl out there tonight is going to be hoping to catch his eye.”

Your stomach twists at the mention of his name. Max. The future Alpha. The one everyone’s talking about. The one everyone wants.

Emma’s expression softens as she notices your reaction. “Don’t worry about him,” she says quietly. “You’re not out there for Max. You’re out there for you. Just … focus on the run. Focus on the moment.”

But how can you not think about him? How can you not feel the weight of his presence, even though he’s nowhere near? Max has always been in the background of your thoughts — unreachable, untouchable. He’s the future of the pack, the one every girl dreams of, even if she pretends not to. And tonight, for the first time, you’ll be running with the possibility of crossing paths with him.

“Max doesn’t even know who I am,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but Emma hears it.

“He doesn’t need to,” she replies softly. “It’s not about that.”

Sara’s smile grows wider, more self-assured. “Well, he’s gonna know my name after tonight.”

The room falls into a brief silence as you all continue to get ready. The weight of the night ahead presses down on you, and the laughter that fills the space seems to grow quieter as the minutes tick by.

You stand up, adjusting the hem of your dress, trying to steady your breathing. The forest is calling, the run is calling. This is the moment you’ve been preparing for your whole life, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

Emma stands beside you, offering a smile that’s meant to calm you, but it only heightens your awareness of what’s about to happen. “We should head down,” she says. “It’s almost time.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you follow her out the door, Sara leading the way with her head held high. The packhouse is bustling with activity as girls from all corners of the pack gather, excitement buzzing in the air like electricity. You weave through the familiar faces, feeling the weight of each glance that lands on you.

As you reach the edge of the forest, the moonlight filters through the trees, casting everything in an ethereal glow. You can hear the whispers of the pack, the murmurs of anticipation, the rustle of leaves beneath boots. The males are out there, somewhere, waiting.

You feel Emma slip her arm through yours. “Just remember,” she says quietly, her voice soft against the noise of the crowd, “It’s not about them. It’s about you.”

A loud howl echoes through the trees, signaling the start. The sound is like a jolt of electricity through the group, and the girls around you tense, their postures straightening. It’s time.

The scent of the forest is strong, filling your lungs as you take a deep breath. Every instinct in your body tells you to run, to move, to go.

Sara glances over her shoulder, a playful grin on her face. “Catch me if you can,” she teases, before sprinting off into the trees, her laughter echoing behind her.

Emma gives you one last look, her eyes filled with encouragement. “Just run,” she says softly. “Don’t think. Just run.”

And then she’s gone too, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

You stand there for a moment, frozen, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The run has begun. The chase has begun. The thrill of it pulls at you, your heart hammering in your chest.

Then, with one last breath, you push off from the ground and run.

The forest swallows you whole.

***

Max stands in front of the mirror, rolling his shoulders and adjusting the collar of his jacket. The reflection staring back at him is stern, cold, and unreadable. It’s the face of an Alpha-to-be, someone expected to lead, to dominate, to find a mate tonight and secure the future of the pack. But behind his composed expression, there’s an undercurrent of restlessness. Another run. Another chance to find a mate. Another night where he’s likely to be disappointed.

His fingers trace the rough scars on his hands from years of training, running, fighting. He’s done everything expected of him, worked harder than anyone in the pack, pushed himself beyond what was necessary. But none of that has made this process any easier. No one has caught his interest.

His father’s voice cuts through the silence, and Max doesn’t need to turn to know Jos has entered the room. The old Alpha’s presence is unmistakable, a heavy, oppressive energy that has always suffocated Max. Jos doesn’t need to say much to convey his disappointment, his impatience, his expectations.

“You’re ready?” Jos asks, though it’s not really a question. It’s a demand.

Max doesn’t turn from the mirror. “I’m always ready.”

“Good. You need to be.”

Jos steps into view, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid. Everything about him screams control, dominance, power — the kind that’s forced, the kind that Max has always despised. Jos has led the pack with an iron fist, and he expects Max to do the same when the time comes.

“You’ve let too many runs pass without finding her,” Jos says, his tone low, but laced with warning. “It’s time. Tonight is the night.”

Max clenches his jaw. He’s heard this speech before, every year. “I won’t choose someone just to choose,” he says firmly, his voice colder than he intends. “I need to feel it.”

Jos scoffs, the sound filled with disdain. “Feel it? You’re the Alpha. You don’t need to feel anything. You need to decide. This is about the pack, not your emotions.”

Max turns to face his father, his blue eyes flashing with irritation. “I won’t be tied to someone I don’t want. The pack will suffer if I choose the wrong mate.”

Jos’ eyes narrow, his lips curling into a sneer. “The pack suffers every day you remain unmated. Do you think they respect you more for dragging this out? Do you think they see strength in your indecision?”

Max doesn’t answer. He knows his father’s not entirely wrong — there’s been talk, whispers about why Max, the pack’s future leader, has yet to find a mate. The runs are supposed to be about instinct, about connection, about claiming. But Max has never felt it. Not once.

“Max,” Jos says sharply, stepping closer, his voice lowering into something more dangerous. “You are expected to lead. You are expected to find a mate, and tonight, you will. I don’t care who it is. Just make the choice. You’re not a pup anymore.”

Max meets his father’s gaze, holding it, the tension crackling between them like a live wire. This is the dance they’ve always done — Max pushing back, Jos demanding more. It’s been this way since Max was old enough to understand what being Alpha meant.

“Why do you care so much?” Max mutters, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. “What difference does it make if it’s this year or next?”

Jos’ eyes darken, and for a moment, Max wonders if his father will lash out. But Jos simply lets out a slow, deliberate breath, his expression hardening into something colder, more calculated.

“Because the pack needs stability,” Jos says, his voice clipped. “They need to know that you can make decisions, that you have control. Right now, you look weak. Indecisive. And if you don’t find someone tonight, they’ll start looking for that stability elsewhere.”

Max knows what his father’s implying. He’s been aware of the murmurs within the pack — those who question if Max is fit to lead, if his hesitation means he’s not strong enough to be Alpha. His father has always used fear and control to keep the pack in line, and Max can see now that Jos expects him to do the same.

But Max won’t be like his father. He can’t.

“I’ll find her when the time’s right,” Max says evenly. “Not when you decide it’s convenient.”

Jos lets out a derisive laugh, shaking his head. “You sound like a fool. This isn’t about fate or some fairytale. You’re the Alpha. You take what you want.”

Max’s chest tightens at the words. It’s never been that simple for him. The bond he’s searching for, the connection he craves, is something more. It’s not just about the run, the hunt. It’s about finding someone who challenges him, who understands him, who makes him feel something more than the empty duty that has been drilled into him for years.

“Tonight,” Jos says again, his voice sharp with finality. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Max doesn’t respond, and after a moment, his father turns and leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence that follows is heavy, suffocating. Max stands there for a moment, staring at the empty space where his father stood, his fists clenched at his sides.

He knows what’s expected of him. He knows what the pack needs. But he also knows that he can’t — won’t — settle.

The run. It’s always the same, always a rush of bodies through the forest, the scent of pine and damp earth filling the air, the thrill of the chase. And every year, Max has found himself watching, waiting, hoping for something to shift inside him. But nothing ever does. None of the females have ever sparked anything in him, no matter how fast they run, no matter how close they come.

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to shake the thoughts loose. Tonight is different, though. He can feel it — an itch beneath his skin, a restlessness that’s been building for weeks. Something is coming. He doesn’t know what, but it’s there, just out of reach.

Max steps away from the mirror, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on, the leather molding to his form like a second skin. The pack is already gathering outside, the air buzzing with anticipation. He can feel the energy of the night crackling around him, the promise of the run vibrating through his bones.

He pushes open the door and steps out into the night. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground. The other males are scattered throughout the clearing, their eyes gleaming with excitement. They’ve all been waiting for this. The hunt. The chase. The chance to claim.

Max moves through the crowd, his presence commanding attention without him saying a word. He doesn’t need to assert himself. The others know who he is. They know he’s the one they all look to, even if they don’t say it aloud.

“You think this is the night, Max?” One of the males, Daniel, calls out, a sly grin on his face. “You gonna finally pick someone?”

Max gives him a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth lifting in a humorless smile. “We’ll see.”

Daniel laughs, clapping Max on the shoulder. “Well, here’s hoping. The girls are looking better every year, aren’t they?”

Max doesn’t respond, his attention already shifting toward the edge of the clearing, where the females are beginning to gather. The energy around them is palpable, their excitement radiating into the night air. He can feel it — the pull, the tension, the unspoken anticipation of the chase.

The females are lined up, their gazes flickering between the males, their bodies taut with nerves and eagerness. Max’s eyes scan the group, searching, waiting for something — anything — to catch his attention. But as he watches them, that familiar feeling creeps in. The same sense of detachment, of distance.

None of them stir anything inside him. Not yet.

The pack elder steps forward, raising his hands to signal the start of the run. The air grows still, everyone poised on the edge of movement, waiting for the signal. Max tenses, his body ready, his senses sharp.

The elder’s voice booms through the clearing. “Let the hunt begin!”

In an instant, the females scatter, sprinting into the forest, their laughter and shouts echoing in the trees. The males are quick to follow, their bodies shifting, muscles coiling as they take off after them.

Max doesn’t move right away. He stands at the edge of the clearing, watching the others disappear into the woods, his heart thudding in his chest. He feels it — the pull, the instinct to chase, to claim, to find.

But something holds him back. Something feels different tonight.

And then, he catches a scent. Faint, barely there, but unmistakable. It cuts through the night air like a thread of warmth, pulling at him in a way he’s never felt before. His muscles tense, and for a moment, he’s frozen.

You.

Without another thought, Max takes off into the forest.

***

The wind rushes past your ears as you weave through the trees, your feet light on the forest floor. The moonlight filters through the canopy, casting dappled shadows across your path.

You run, but not with any real urgency. At first, it feels more like a game, something you’ve watched from the sidelines for years but never truly been part of. The thrill of the run is there, but muted, like you’re waiting for something to shift, something to make your heart race for real.

You laugh to yourself, feeling a bit of the tension from earlier melt away. The other girls had sprinted into the forest as if their lives depended on it, but you aren’t so sure. You’ve heard the stories of what happens during the run — the wild, frenzied chase, the heat of the hunt — but none of it seems real to you yet. Right now, it just feels like a midnight run through the woods.

You slow down slightly, breathing in the cool, earthy air, letting it fill your lungs. The scents of pine and damp leaves swirl around you, grounding you in the moment. There’s no need to rush. You know there’s a time limit, but the males will be busy chasing the faster girls first. You’re not on anyone’s radar, and that’s fine by you.

Ahead, the trees thin slightly, and you pick up your pace just enough to reach a small clearing. It’s quiet here, the distant sounds of the run — footsteps, laughter, shouts — fading into the background. You stand there for a moment, catching your breath, letting yourself soak in the stillness of the night.

“This isn’t so bad,” you whisper to yourself, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face. You can still feel the remnants of nerves, but they’ve settled now, replaced by something calmer. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see the others, but there’s no one. The forest is empty.

You think about what Emma had said — about running for yourself, not for them. Maybe she was right. Maybe this doesn’t have to be about being chased or caught. Maybe this can just be your moment to feel free.

But then you feel it.

It’s subtle at first, just a prickle at the back of your neck, like the sensation of being watched. You pause, your heartbeat picking up slightly as you turn in a slow circle, scanning the trees around you. The clearing is still empty, but the hairs on your arms stand on end. There’s something out there. You can’t see it, but you can feel it.

You swallow, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “Okay, I get it. It’s a mating run. I’m supposed to feel like this.” But your own voice does little to settle the sudden unease creeping into your chest.

For the first time, the run doesn’t feel like a game anymore. There’s a shift in the air, something heavier, something more dangerous.

You take a step backward, your eyes darting to the shadows between the trees. “Hello?” You call, half-joking, half-hoping for a response. Silence answers you, but that feeling — being watched — grows stronger.

Another step back. This time, your heart skips a beat. You turn sharply, scanning the edge of the clearing again. Nothing.

Maybe you’re just imagining it. Maybe your nerves are playing tricks on you.

You shake your head and take a deep breath. “Relax,” you whisper to yourself. “You’re fine. It’s just the forest.”

But your body doesn’t listen. Every instinct is telling you to move, to run, to go.

You try to ignore it, taking another step forward, but that’s when you hear it. The faintest crack of a branch behind you.

You freeze. The forest, which had seemed so peaceful moments ago, now feels alive with danger. The prickle on the back of your neck is now a full-on chill running down your spine.

Someone’s there.

Without thinking, you bolt.

Your feet hit the ground hard, faster than before, your body moving on instinct now. The easy, leisurely run from earlier is gone, replaced by something wild, something urgent. Your pulse pounds in your ears as you sprint through the trees, your breath coming in quick, sharp bursts.

You don’t know who’s out there — whether it’s one of the males from the pack or something else entirely — but you can feel them. You can feel the weight of their gaze, the way they’re tracking you, following your every movement.

Your heart races as you dart around a thick trunk, the sound of your footfalls blending with the rustling of the leaves overhead. The forest blurs around you as you push yourself faster, harder. You don’t look back. You can’t. You just have to keep moving, keep running.

But they’re getting closer.

The trees are a blur now, your muscles burning as you force your legs to move. You can hear them behind you — the faint, almost inaudible sound of footsteps, the crack of branches, the soft rustle of leaves as someone — something — moves through the forest with a precision that makes your heart race even faster.

Whoever they are, they’re faster than you.

You veer off to the right, trying to lose them in the thick undergrowth, but it doesn’t matter. They’re gaining on you. You can feel it.

A low growl rumbles through the air, and your stomach flips. You push yourself harder, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps. Every step feels heavier, the weight of the chase pressing down on you, making your legs ache with the effort.

And then, suddenly, the ground gives way beneath you.

You stumble, your foot catching on a root hidden beneath the leaves, and before you can catch yourself, you’re falling. You hit the ground hard, the impact jarring through your bones as you roll to a stop at the base of a large tree.

Dazed, you blink up at the canopy of branches overhead, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The world spins for a moment, and you try to push yourself up, but your body feels sluggish, weak.

It’s too late.

Before you can even think about getting to your feet, you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you up off the ground in one swift motion. A startled gasp escapes your lips as you’re lifted effortlessly, your back pressed against something solid — someone solid.

For a moment, you can’t breathe. The world narrows to the feeling of their body against yours, the heat radiating off them in waves. The scent of pine and earth fills your senses, stronger now, more potent, and you know without a doubt that this is no ordinary chase.

A voice, deep and rough, growls in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Got you.”

You freeze, your body going rigid in their grasp as the words sink in. The voice is low, commanding, filled with an authority that makes your heart stutter. Whoever this is, they’re not just some random male from the pack. This is something else entirely.

For a moment, neither of you move. The forest seems to hold its breath, the sounds of the chase fading away, leaving only the pounding of your heart and the sound of your ragged breaths. You try to think, try to process what’s happening, but your mind is a blur of confusion and adrenaline.

“Let me go,” you manage to gasp, though your voice is weak, trembling.

They chuckle softly, the sound vibrating through their chest and into your back. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”

Your pulse quickens as you feel their grip tighten slightly, just enough to remind you that they’re in control, that you’re at their mercy.

Your mind races, trying to come up with a plan, something to get you out of this, but there’s no use. They’re stronger, faster, and right now, you’re trapped.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” they say, their voice softer now, though no less commanding. “But I’m not letting you go either.”

You swallow hard, your breath hitching in your throat. This isn’t how you imagined the run would go. You never expected to be caught so quickly, so easily. And you certainly didn’t expect the one chasing you to be … this.

You feel their breath against your neck, warm and steady, as they lean in slightly. “Run all you want,” they murmur, their voice sending a shiver down your spine. “But I’ll always catch you.”

Your heart races, your mind reeling as you try to make sense of the situation. But there’s no time to think, no time to process what’s happening.

You’re caught.

And there’s no escaping now.

***

Your breath comes in shallow gasps as the figure behind you tightens their hold. The warmth of their body presses against your back, strong and unyielding. Every inch of you is tense, muscles coiled like a spring. You don’t dare move, barely able to think beyond the pounding of your pulse in your ears.

His hand slides from your waist to your shoulder, and before you can even process the movement, he spins you around. The world blurs for a second, the shadows of the forest twisting into one another, until your back hits the rough bark of a tree.

You look up — straight into the wild, burning eyes of Max Verstappen.

Your stomach drops.

Max.

Max caught you.

You’ve seen Max a thousand times before — calm, controlled, his power coiled tightly behind those cold blue eyes. But this? This is something else entirely. His eyes are dark, almost feral, like something untamed has been let loose inside him. His usual stoic expression is nowhere to be found, replaced by a snarl that twists his lips, a deep growl rumbling from his chest.

You’ve never seen him like this. You never even thought it was possible.

“Max-” His name comes out as a breathless whisper, but the second the sound reaches him, his snarl deepens, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he pushes you harder against the tree. You can feel the rough bark biting into your back, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the heat radiating from him, the way his gaze pins you in place.

“Mine.” His voice is low, guttural, barely recognizable as the Max you’ve known for years. “You’re mine.”

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “What are you-”

But before you can finish the sentence, Max lowers his head, burying his face in the curve of your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, and the scent of him — earthy, primal — fills your senses. You can feel him trembling, his entire body vibrating with some barely contained need, as if he’s fighting to hold himself back.

“Max,” you manage, your voice shaky. “What are you doing?”

His hands grip your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his chest pressing against yours. The growl that comes from him is so deep it vibrates through your body. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Your mind is spinning, trying to make sense of what’s happening. “Get what?”

“I’ve waited for this,” he growls, his lips brushing your skin. “For you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You? Max has waited for you? The words don’t make sense, not with the way he’s always been distant, cold, focused on his role as Alpha-in-waiting. You never imagined-

“Mate,” Max says, his voice rough and thick with a possessiveness you’ve never heard before. “You’re my mate.”

The world seems to tilt on its axis, everything around you narrowing to just him — his body pressed against yours, his breath hot on your neck, the word mate hanging in the air like a spell.

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head, though your body betrays you, leaning into his touch despite your confusion. “That’s not-”

But your words die in your throat when you feel his lips brush over the sensitive spot on your neck — your mating gland. His mouth hovers there for a second, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, and suddenly, you realize what he’s about to do.

“Max, wait-” you gasp, but it’s too late.

With a low, primal growl, Max sinks his teeth into the tender skin of your neck, biting down hard.

The moment his teeth break the surface, the world explodes.

A shockwave of heat and sensation pulses through your entire body, starting from the point of contact and radiating outward, like a fire igniting inside you. Your vision blurs, your breath catching in your throat as the bond begins to form, snapping into place with a force that leaves you dizzy.

It’s overwhelming, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Half of the bond, the part that Max has just claimed, roars to life, flooding your senses with an overwhelming need. Your body reacts instinctively, pressing closer to him, needing more — more of him, more of this connection, more of everything.

You can feel his emotions now — raw, intense, and powerful. There’s hunger, desire, possession, all wrapped up in a fierce need to protect. But beneath it all, there’s something deeper, something softer, almost vulnerable.

He’s waited for you.

The thought is dizzying, impossible to fully grasp, but there’s no denying it now. The bond is real, and it’s pulling at you, drawing you into him like a force of nature.

Max pulls back slightly, his mouth leaving your skin but staying close enough that you can feel his breath, warm and ragged, against your neck. His eyes are wild when he looks at you, dark with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “Mine,” he growls again, his voice low, possessive.

You should be angry. You should be scared, maybe. But you’re not. Instead, the only thing you feel is the need to complete the bond, to claim him as yours just as he’s claimed you.

Your body moves before your mind can catch up. You grab him by the shoulders, pulling him closer, and he growls in approval, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. You can feel the strength in his fingers, the way he holds you like you’re something precious and breakable, but also like he’ll never let go.

“Max,” you whisper, your voice shaky, filled with the same need that’s been coursing through him. “I-I need-”

You can’t finish the sentence, but you don’t have to. Max’s eyes darken, his jaw clenched tight as he watches you, waiting for you to make the move.

And then, you do.

You don’t think. You just act, leaning in and sinking your teeth into his neck, right where his mating gland is. The second your teeth break the skin, the bond snaps into place completely.

The world shifts.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced — waves of emotion crashing into you, one after the other, until you’re drowning in it. The connection between you and Max flares to life, and suddenly, you can feel everything. His desire, his possessiveness, his need for you, but also something deeper — something softer. There’s a fierce protectiveness in him, an unwavering determination to keep you safe, to claim you not just because he’s supposed to, but because he wants to.

It’s intoxicating, the way the bond pulls at you, flooding your senses with heat and need. You can feel Max’s pulse racing beneath your lips, matching the frantic rhythm of your own heart, and it only makes you want him more.

He growls low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as you bite down harder, completing the bond. His entire body tenses, a shudder running through him, and you can feel the shift in him, the way the bond affects him just as much as it affects you.

When you finally pull back, gasping for breath, Max is staring at you with a look so intense it sends a shiver down your spine. His blue eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, and there’s a wildness in him that hasn’t diminished, even with the bond in place.

“Now you get it,” he says, his voice rough and low. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver through you. “You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

The words are a promise, a claim, but there’s something else there too — something deeper. The bond may have snapped into place like a chain locking around you both, but it’s more than that. It’s a connection, a tether that pulls you together in a way you never expected, never even thought possible.

You swallow, still trying to catch your breath, your mind racing. The bond is overwhelming, but it feels right — like something inside you has finally clicked into place, something you didn’t even know you were missing.

“I-” You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat. You don’t know how to explain what you’re feeling, how to put it into words.

But Max seems to understand. He presses his forehead against yours, his breath still ragged, his body trembling slightly as he tries to control the raw emotions coursing through him. “I know,” he says, his voice softer now, but still filled with that same intensity. “I feel it too.”

The weight of his words settles over you, and for a moment, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you — connected, bound, and inseparable.

The run, the chase, everything that led to this moment — it all falls away, leaving only the undeniable truth.

You’re his. And he’s yours.

The world is still spinning from the intensity of the bond, every sense heightened, every nerve alight with sensation. You feel like your body is on fire, a primal need pulsing through your veins, a need you’ve never experienced before. Max’s forehead is still pressed to yours, his breath warm against your skin as he holds you close, his hands firm on your waist.

But the bond isn’t done.

It’s there between you, humming with energy, demanding more — more of him, more of this connection. You feel it in every fiber of your being, a pull so powerful you can’t ignore it. And neither can Max.

His hand moves from your waist to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as his breathing deepens. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated as he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart race. The feral look from before hasn’t left him — it’s only deepened. There’s a hunger in his eyes, raw and untamed, and you can feel it reflected in your own.

Max’s voice is low, almost a growl. “I’m not done with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. There’s no mistaking his meaning. The bond, the bite — it was only the beginning. The weight of what’s about to happen hangs in the air between you, thick and charged with tension. You should feel embarrassed, maybe even shy, but all you can think about is him — how badly you need him, how badly you want him to complete what he’s started.

He watches you closely, waiting for any sign of hesitation, but you don’t give him one. Instead, you reach for him, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, wordlessly giving him permission. The bond hums in approval, urging you both forward, pulling you together like a force of nature.

That’s all the confirmation Max needs.

Without warning, he tears at the fabric of your dress, the sound of it ripping in half echoing through the forest. Your breath hitches, heat flooding your cheeks as the cool night air hits your skin, but you don’t stop him. You can’t. The need coursing through your veins is too strong, too overwhelming.

Max wastes no time, his own shirt following your dress in a shredded heap on the forest floor. His hands are everywhere — on your skin, in your hair, gripping you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver down your spine, every inch of you alive with sensation.

His lips crash into yours, hot and demanding, as he pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours. You feel his heat, the hard planes of his chest against your own, and it only stokes the fire inside you, making the bond between you thrum with even more intensity. The forest around you fades away, the sounds of the night swallowed by the rush of blood in your ears, the frantic beating of your heart.

Your hands fumble with the waistband of his pants, and he growls low in his throat, his hands moving to help you, tearing them off with a speed and strength that leaves you breathless. His hands, large and rough, move down your body, and then, with a swift motion, your panties are gone too, discarded somewhere in the forest.

You’re both bare now, the night air cool against your heated skin, but it barely registers. All you can focus on is him — on Max and the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters. There’s no hesitation in him, no shame. He’s completely unbothered by the fact that you’re standing there, naked and vulnerable, in the middle of the woods. He doesn’t care who might find you, doesn’t care about anything except you.

But you can’t help it — you feel a flicker of embarrassment, heat rushing to your face. You try to cover yourself, but Max catches your wrists, pulling your hands away, his eyes locked on yours.

“Don’t,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “You’re perfect.”

His words send a rush of warmth through you, and before you can respond, Max lowers you down onto the forest floor, his body hovering over yours, his weight a comforting presence. The ground is cool beneath you, but Max is anything but. His skin is hot, his muscles tense with barely restrained control, as if he’s holding himself back, waiting for you to say something, to give him the final permission to take what’s his.

Your heart races as you look up at him, his blue eyes burning with need, the wildness still lingering in his gaze. You don’t have to say anything. The bond between you speaks for itself.

“Max,” you whisper, breathless, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low, rumbling growl. “I’m going to make you mine.”

And then he does.

Max moves with a slow, deliberate intensity, his hands gripping your hips as he enters you, filling you completely. The bond between you flares, snapping into place with a finality that leaves you gasping for breath. The connection is deeper now, more than just physical — it’s emotional, spiritual, a melding of souls that leaves you trembling beneath him.

Every movement sends a wave of pleasure through you, your body arching into his as he moves above you, his pace steady and controlled, but filled with the same raw intensity that’s been there from the start. You can feel his need, his desire, but there’s something more — something deeper that pulses through the bond.

His hands grip you tighter, his body pressing you harder into the earth as he claims you completely. There’s no gentleness here, no hesitation. This is primal, animalistic, a raw expression of the bond between you, and it’s everything you didn’t know you needed.

Max leans down, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss, his breath hot and ragged as he deepens the connection between you. You’re lost in him, in the feeling of him, in the way the bond pulls you together with every thrust, every touch. Your hands find his back, your nails digging into his skin as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, the bond between you tightening with every second.

“I’ve waited for this,” Max growls against your lips, his voice rough and filled with emotion. “You’re mine now.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and all you can do is nod, your body trembling beneath him as the bond reaches its peak, the connection between you solidifying in a way that leaves you breathless.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

“I’m yours,” you whisper, your voice shaky but filled with truth. “I’m yours, Max.”

The bond flares, and suddenly, everything snaps into place. Your body arches, your breath catching in your throat as the final piece of the bond falls into place, locking you and Max together in a way that feels unbreakable, eternal.

Max groans, his grip on you tightening as he follows you over the edge, his body shuddering above you as the bond completes fully, sealing you to him in a way that leaves you both breathless and trembling.

For a long moment, the only sound is the ragged breathing between the two of you, the forest around you forgotten. Max’s weight is heavy on top of you, grounding you in the moment, in the reality of what just happened.

You’re his. And he’s yours.

Finally, Max pulls back slightly, his body still pressed against yours as he looks down at you, his blue eyes softening just a little. There’s still a wildness there, still that possessiveness, but there’s something else now — something gentler, more protective.

He leans down, brushing a kiss against your forehead, and you can feel the bond between you humming with contentment.

“Mine,” he whispers again, but this time, there’s no growl, just a quiet certainty.

You don’t have to respond. He knows.

For a moment, the two of you lie there, tangled together, the cool night air brushing against your heated skin. The bond between you is strong, solid, and you can feel it thrumming with life, with energy, as if it’s still settling into place.

But then, Max moves, slowly pushing himself up and off of you. He stands, completely unbothered by his nakedness, his body still radiating that same confidence and control that he always carries with him. You, on the other hand, feel the flush of embarrassment creeping up again, the reality of the situation hitting you.

You’re both completely naked in the middle of the forest.

Max doesn’t seem to care. He bends down, scooping you up into his arms with ease, holding you close to his chest as if you weigh nothing at all. His eyes are on you, filled with pride and something that looks like satisfaction, but there’s no shame, no embarrassment. He’s triumphant.

You, however, feel your face heat as you instinctively try to cover yourself, but Max’s arms hold you firmly against him.

“Max,” you whisper, your voice filled with mortification. “We’re not wearing anything.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest. “I know.”

He starts walking, carrying you effortlessly through the trees, heading back toward the pack house. You can’t help but bury your face in his chest, trying to hide your embarrassment as the reality of what’s about to happen sinks in.

Everyone will see. Everyone will know.

But Max doesn’t care. He’s proud. You’re his mate, and he’s going to show the world.

***

Max strides through the forest, each step deliberate, his arms cradling you against his chest as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t bother hiding the satisfied smirk that pulls at his lips — he’s found his mate, and he knows it. He can feel the bond humming between the two of you, powerful and undeniable.

The night air is cool, brushing against both of your bare skin, but Max is too focused to care. You, however, squirm slightly, the awareness of your nudity heightening as the sounds of the pack grow louder in the distance.

“Max,” you murmur, glancing up at him, your voice filled with uncertainty.

He doesn’t even look down, his eyes fixed ahead, laser-focused on the clearing where the rest of the pack waits. “Don’t hide,” he says, his voice low, but firm. “They need to see.”

You swallow hard, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks again. It’s one thing to be with Max like this, alone in the forest, but the thought of everyone else seeing you — seeing both of you — sends a wave of embarrassment through you. But Max is unmoved. His grip on you tightens, his arm like iron around your waist as he walks with purpose, unashamed.

The clearing comes into view, the faint glow of firelight illuminating the figures waiting there. The non-participating pack members are gathered, eager to see who’s returning with whom. A hush falls over the group as they catch sight of Max emerging from the treeline, his broad frame unmistakable even in the dim light. He carries you as if you weigh nothing, his steps sure and unhurried, his pride palpable.

A murmur ripples through the crowd as they realize what’s happened. Max Verstappen, their Alpha-in-waiting, has finally found his mate.

Max’s chest swells with pride, and without warning, he throws his head back and lets out a deep, resonating roar that echoes through the clearing. It’s a primal sound, one of triumph, of victory, and it sends a shiver down your spine. His voice reverberates through the air, silencing the crowd as they stand in awe of their future leader.

The reaction is immediate.

Cheers erupt from the pack, a cacophony of hoots, hollers, and whistles. They all know what this means — Max has chosen. He’s claimed his mate, and now, there’s no turning back. The weight of the moment is heavy in the air, but Max takes it all in stride, his posture confident, his gaze sweeping over the gathered wolves like a king surveying his subjects.

You, on the other hand, feel your cheeks flush with heat as all eyes turn to you. Instinctively, you try to shield yourself, your arms moving to cover your exposed body. But Max is having none of it. He shifts you in his arms, catching your wrists in his large hands and holding them firmly against his chest.

“Max, please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the pack.

He leans down slightly, his breath hot against your ear. “I said don’t hide.”

His words are not a request — they’re an order. And though a part of you wants to disappear into the forest again, another part of you can’t help but feel the power of his command, the certainty in his voice. He wants them to see. He wants them to know that you’re his, that this bond is real, and he’s not going to let anything or anyone diminish that.

As the noise of the crowd grows louder, you realize there’s no use fighting it. Max’s grip on you is unyielding, and the pride radiating from him is almost tangible. He wants the pack to see you, to see him, to understand that you belong to him now — and there’s no room for hesitation.

“Max!” A voice breaks through the din, and you see Jos stepping forward from the crowd, his face a mix of approval and indifference. Jos had always been more focused on ensuring Max fulfilled his duties as the future Alpha than on any personal connection his son might have to his mate.

Max barely acknowledges his father’s approach, his attention still fixed on you, though his expression hardens slightly. “Father,” he says, his voice steady.

Jos’ eyes flick between you and Max, a calculating glint in his gaze. “So, it’s done then?”

Max’s jaw tightens, but he nods once. “It’s done.”

Jos’s lips twist into a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Good. I’ve waited long enough for you to make your choice. The pack’s waited long enough.”

There’s a tension in the air between father and son, unspoken but undeniable. Max doesn’t respond to Jos’ veiled challenge, his eyes narrowing slightly as if daring his father to push further. But Jos seems content with the knowledge that his son has finally taken this crucial step. He gives a curt nod, stepping back into the crowd, clearly uninterested in who Max has chosen — only that he’s done it.

The congratulations continue, pack members approaching Max with grins and slaps on the back, though none of them dare get too close. You’re acutely aware of every gaze, every cheer, as wolves you’ve known for years now look at you differently. You’re not just one of them anymore — you’re the future Alpha’s mate.

Max accepts the praise with a tilt of his head, his hold on you never wavering. His grip is possessive, grounding, and you can feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him. Pride, satisfaction, and something deeper — something darker that thrums through the bond between you.

“Max! You finally did it!” One of the younger wolves calls out, a grin stretching across his face. “About time!”

Max smirks, his eyes flashing with amusement as he looks over at the young wolf. “I wasn’t going to settle,” he says, his voice carrying easily over the noise. “When you know, you know.”

The pack erupts into another round of cheers, their excitement palpable. But Max’s gaze flicks back to you, his eyes darkening again as the bond between you hums with a new kind of tension. He’s barely keeping himself in check, his control hanging by a thread as the reality of the situation sinks in.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear again, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. “I want to take you back.”

Your heart skips a beat, the heat between you intensifying. He doesn’t mean back to the pack house for rest. He means back to continue what you’ve only just begun.

You glance around, acutely aware of the eyes still on you, but Max doesn’t seem to care. He’s made his claim, and now he’s ready to follow through with it. You feel the blush creep up your neck again, but Max’s confidence is unshakable.

“Let’s go,” he mutters, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s already made the decision for both of you.

Before you can respond, a chorus of howls and whistles erupts from the crowd as they catch on to Max’s intent. One of the older wolves grins, his voice carrying over the others. “Give the girl a break, Max! Let her breathe for a second!”

Max’s lips twitch into a smirk, but he doesn’t slow down. He’s already moving toward the pack house, his focus entirely on you. The sounds of the pack fade into the background as Max carries you through the clearing, his pace quickening as the bond between you pulls tighter, urging him forward.

“Max,” you whisper, your voice a mix of embarrassment and something else — something deeper that thrums in time with the bond.

He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his resolve, the way his grip on you is unyielding, his steps purposeful. He’s done waiting. Done with the formalities, the congratulations. All he cares about now is getting you back to the pack house, where he can finish what he started.

As you approach the entrance, you feel the weight of everything settle on your shoulders — the bond, the pack, the future that stretches out in front of you. But Max doesn’t seem to falter. He’s never been one to hesitate, and now, with you in his arms, there’s no question in his mind.

You’re his. And he’s going to make sure everyone knows it.

***

Max doesn’t slow down as he crosses the threshold of the pack house, his grip on you unrelenting. His focus is laser-sharp, his footsteps echoing in the quiet as the distant sounds of the pack fade into the night. He moves through the familiar halls with a purpose, barely acknowledging anyone who dares to glance his way.

You can feel the tension in him, coiled like a spring, ready to snap. And you? You’re caught in it, completely tangled in the intensity that rolls off him in waves.

Your heart is still pounding from everything that’s happened — from the run, from being claimed, from the eyes on you in the clearing. But now, in the privacy of the pack house, that pounding becomes something else entirely.

Anticipation. Need. You can’t ignore the way your pulse quickens the closer you get to Max’s room, your body still thrumming with the lingering effects of the bond.

Max kicks the door open with ease, stepping inside without hesitation. The door slams shut behind him, the finality of the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He sets you on your feet, but before you can even take a breath, his hands are on you again, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“You thought you could run,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes are dark, almost feral, and you can see the possessiveness etched into every line of his face. “But you were never going to get away.”

You open your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat. Max doesn’t give you time to respond anyway. He crushes his lips against yours, the kiss rough and all-consuming, his hands sliding down your body as if he’s determined to remind you exactly who you belong to.

The kiss leaves you breathless, your knees threatening to give way beneath you, but Max doesn’t relent. He’s a force of nature, untamed and relentless, his touch both commanding and electric.

“Max-” you manage to gasp, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands already working their way across your skin.

“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a dark promise, “I was always going to catch you.”

There’s no room for argument, no room for anything but the overwhelming heat between the two of you as he pulls you toward the bed. The moment your back hits the mattress, the air crackles with something wild, something uncontrollable. Max is on you in an instant, his hands sliding up your thighs, pinning you in place as his eyes lock onto yours.

“This time,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “there’s nowhere to run.”

Your breath catches as he lowers himself over you, his presence overwhelming, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His lips find your neck, and you can feel the rumble of his growl against your skin as he kisses the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. His hands grip your hips with enough force to leave marks, but the thought only sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

You can barely think, barely breathe, as Max claims you again, the bond between you tightening with every touch, every kiss. This is nothing like the forest. Out there, it was raw, primal, an instinctive act of possession.

But here, in the privacy of his room, it’s something else entirely. It’s as if Max has no intention of holding back — no intention of stopping until every part of you knows exactly what it means to be his.

He shifts, moving his hands beneath your back, pulling you closer to him as his mouth moves down your body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You arch into him, the intensity of the bond overwhelming as you cling to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

“Max,” you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper.

His answer is a low growl, one that vibrates through your entire body, and before you can say anything else, he’s pushing your legs apart, positioning himself between them with a hunger that leaves you gasping. The moment he enters you, it’s like a dam breaks inside you, the bond coming to love so hard it almost knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as Max claims you fully, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

The bed creaks beneath you, the wooden frame groaning under the force of Max’s movements. You can feel it — the raw power in him, the unrelenting strength as he drives into you, his grip on your hips like iron. The bond between you pulses with every thrust, a tangible thing that seems to tighten and twist, pulling you closer, deeper into each other until it’s impossible to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

You can barely form words, barely think beyond the sensation of Max surrounding you, inside you, his breath hot against your skin, his growls vibrating through your entire being. You feel the bed shift beneath you, the groaning wood reaching its breaking point, but Max doesn’t care. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t stop — if anything, it seems to spur him on.

The moment the bed frame finally gives way, splintering beneath you, Max lets out a low, satisfied growl, his lips curling into a smirk as if this is exactly what he wanted. He catches you before you can fall, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as the broken pieces of the bed frame scatter beneath you.

“Max-” you start, but he cuts you off with another bruising kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I’m not stopping,” he growls against your lips, his voice rough with need. “Not until you understand.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the embarrassment from earlier flooding back. You’d thought you understood — thought the intensity of the forest floor was the peak of what Max could offer. But this … this is different. This is Max unrestrained, Max with no one watching, no expectations to hold him back. And it’s almost too much.

He shifts again, pushing you down into the now broken bed frame, his body covering yours as his lips move down your neck, his teeth grazing the mark he left earlier. The reminder of the bond sends a shiver through you, your body responding to him instinctively, your fingers digging into his back as you arch into him.

“You can’t run from this,” Max mutters, his breath hot against your skin. “You can’t run from me.”

“I wasn’t-” you try to protest, but his lips find yours again, swallowing your words as his pace quickens, the rhythm of his movements relentless, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.

“I was always going to catch you,” he growls, his voice low and dark, sending another shiver through you. His hands grip your hips again, pulling you against him with a force that leaves you gasping. “I will always catch you.”

You can feel the bond tightening, pulling you closer to him, until it feels like the world narrows down to just the two of you. Max’s growls are low and possessive, his body moving against yours in a way that leaves no room for doubt — you’re his.

There’s no escape from him. And you don’t want there to be.

The bed beneath you is in ruins, but Max doesn’t seem to care. He’s unrelenting, his pace increasing until you can barely keep up, every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you, pushing you closer to the edge until it feels like you might shatter.

And when you finally do — when the bond snaps fully into place and the pleasure crashes over you in waves — it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Max follows a moment later, his growl vibrating through you as he collapses on top of you, his body still pressed tightly against yours, his breath ragged.

For a moment, the world is still. The only sound is the heavy breathing between the two of you, your heartbeats syncing together as the bond settles, the overwhelming intensity of it fading into a deep, unbreakable connection.

Max doesn’t move for a long time, his arms still wrapped around you, his breath hot against your neck. And though the bed is in ruins beneath you, though everything feels like it’s been torn apart, there’s a strange comfort in the aftermath. Max was always going to catch you. And now, there’s no running from him — or from what you’ve become.

***

The morning light filters softly through the curtains of Max’s room, a faint golden glow that dances across the tangle of sheets and broken bed frame beneath you. The world feels still — quiet in a way that seems almost surreal after the storm of the night before.

Your body aches in the best way possible, every muscle sore and tender, a reminder of how intense things had been. You shift slightly, the warmth of the blankets pulling you back into the heavy drowsiness that clings to your limbs, but something — someone — keeps you grounded.

Max.

He’s beside you, his body still wrapped around yours, his chest pressed against your back, one arm draped protectively over your waist. The possessiveness in his touch is unmistakable, even now. But it’s gentle, too — tender in a way that contrasts with the ferocity he’d shown you only hours ago.

You can feel his fingers in your hair, stroking through the strands with slow, deliberate movements. It’s soothing, almost hypnotic, and you let out a soft sigh, the sound unbidden, as the sensation lulls you back toward sleep. But before you can fully drift off, you hear his voice, soft and low, cutting through the stillness of the room.

“Mijn kleintje hertje …” His voice is thick with affection, the Dutch words rolling off his tongue like a private lullaby. His little deer. There’s something about the way he says it, so gentle and reverent, that makes your heart skip a beat.

His fingers continue to comb through your hair, and for a moment, you let yourself just feel it — let yourself melt into the way he touches you, the way he holds you like something precious. You had seen him as the alpha, the fierce, dominant force who claimed you without hesitation. But now, there’s a softness to him that you hadn’t expected. A tenderness that makes it hard to breathe.

“You can run, you know,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, the barest hint of a growl underneath. “But I’ll always catch you.”

There’s a playfulness in his tone, but it’s layered with something deeper, something that sends a shiver down your spine. He shifts slightly behind you, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips brush against the back of your neck.

“I’m the big, bad wolf,” he continues, the smile in his voice evident. “And you’re my little deer.”

Your heart flutters, heat creeping up your cheeks. It’s absurd — being compared to prey when you’re his mate, when you’re just as much a wolf as he is, when you’ve already been claimed so thoroughly. But there’s something about the way he says it, something that makes your pulse quicken.

“You’re teasing me,” you mutter, your voice still thick with sleep, though you can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

Max hums in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Maybe,” he admits, his hand still stroking your hair, the rhythm slow and deliberate. “But you like it.”

There’s no point in denying it. Not with the way your body responds to him, to the possessiveness in his voice and the way he holds you so close. You don’t say anything, though. Instead, you turn slightly in his arms, shifting so that you can see his face.

He’s watching you, his blue eyes dark and intense, but there’s a softness in them now that makes your breath catch. He looks different in the morning light — less like the fierce alpha and more like the man behind it all. His hair is tousled from sleep, his stubble more prominent in the soft glow of the room, and there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your heart ache.

“You were always going to catch me, weren’t you?” You ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max’s lips curve into a small, satisfied smirk. “Always,” he says, without hesitation. His fingers trail down from your hair, brushing softly against your cheek, and his eyes darken just slightly as he looks at you. “I told you, I was never going to let you get away.”

You bite your lip, your heart pounding in your chest as the intensity of his gaze settles over you. It’s hard to imagine now, how you ever thought you could escape him — how you thought you could run from the bond that had been pulling the two of you together from the moment you first felt his eyes on you.

Max’s hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up toward his. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. “Every part of you.”

You nod, unable to find your voice. There’s something about the way he says it — like it’s an indisputable fact, something as fundamental as the rising of the sun. And you can feel it, deep in your bones. The bond between the two of you is unbreakable now, solidified by the mark on your neck and the night you spent together.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like a dream.”

Max’s expression softens at your words, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s real,” he murmurs against your skin. “You’re real. And you’re mine.”

His words send a shiver through you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving the warmth and safety that radiates from him. Max shifts, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he tilts your face up to his, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“You can try to run,” he says, his voice teasing but laced with that same possessiveness. “But I’ll always find you.”

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, and you can see the truth in his eyes. Max is relentless. He always has been. Whether it’s in the pack, in the hunt, or in his pursuit of you, he doesn’t back down. He doesn’t stop.

And a part of you — the part that’s known since the moment he caught you in the forest — finds comfort in that. In knowing that no matter what, Max will always be there. He’ll always find you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly, your voice steady even though your heart is racing.

Max’s eyes darken, his thumb still tracing slow, deliberate circles on your lip. “Good,” he growls, the word a promise. “Because I’d hate to have to chase you again.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes — something wild and unrestrained — and it sends a thrill through you, your body responding instinctively to the shift in his energy. Max leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hand still cradling your face as he presses you into the mattress beneath him.

The kiss is softer than the ones from the night before, less hurried and more intentional, but the intensity is still there — unrelenting, just like Max. His lips move against yours with a possessiveness that sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the bond between you tighten, pulling you even closer together.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breath is ragged, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your chest ache.

“I’ll never let you go,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “Never.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of his words settles over you. You can feel the truth in them, feel the bond that connects you both thrumming with life. It’s overwhelming — this connection, this need. But it’s also grounding in a way you never expected.

“I don’t want you to,” you whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Max smiles, a slow, satisfied grin that makes your stomach flip. He leans down, pressing another kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to look at you fully, his eyes dark and intense as they roam over your face.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hand still resting on your cheek. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

You can’t help but laugh softly at that, your heart feeling lighter despite the intensity of everything that’s happened. Max’s eyes soften at the sound, and he leans down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“Mijn kleintje hertje,” he whispers again, his voice soft and affectionate. His little deer. The words wrap around you like a blanket, and you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, into the bond that ties you both together.

For a moment, everything is still. Quiet. Perfect.

And you realize, with a sudden clarity, that you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[marrycv]

Muse

rockstar!ellie x reader

warnings : SMUT!!, no to consentement (happened with a men ellie saved us), alcohol, ✂️✂️✂️, swearing, age gab? (ellie be like 2-3 years older), thigh riding (r ! receiving), fingering (r ! receiving)

idk if thats all but i worked hard on this one 😜

enjoy!!

—

“Cmonnnnn we’re gonna be late!!”

“not my fault you took 2 hours in the shower?”

you and your bestfriend were getting ready for that little concert that was in your city. it was so rare you had finally something fun to do, and the best part of it, is that your favourite band was gonna be there. you were so excited to go there, but your bestfriend was just making you nervous, in the worst way ever.

you had a denim mini skirt with a lace crop top in black with some leather jacket, classic ‘rockstar girlfriend’ outfit if you’d search it on pinterest. but, it was a rock show anyways, so you were fitting in that vibe.

you had a little smug eyeliner with some star glitter around your eyes. your best friend has some too. exited by the fact that you two were matching like some 13 years old teenagers.

“okay, im ready”

“about time!! now come on, i dont wanna arrive while its crowded, wanna have the best view” she tells you while bringing you outside towards her car

“girl did you know my fav band are gonna be here??”

“ugh omg you said it at least one thousand times…” she sighs

“okay okay, will you be less annoyed when i tell you they look like this :” you said as you showed her the guitarists and the singer. they were 3 and your age. absolutely gorgeous people.

“YOOOOOOOOO!!!” Layla said, looking at the picture of the three bend’s members.

“rightttt?!!!”

“okay but look at the men?”

“his name is Jesse, one of the guitarist. currently dating the other guitarist” you informed her, for only her smile dropping at the deception.

“look, thats the singer” you continue “her name’s Ellie, and shes SO fucking hot, and shes gay”

“lesbian?” she asks you while she starts driving towards the location for tonight.

“yeah, literally everyone who listen to their music is because all the fans envy her. i dont blame them tho”

“what about the other guitarist?” she asks you, now interested in them

“Its Dina, Ellie’s ex”

“WHAAAAAT ??? nowayyyy”

you two laugh at the drama you shared to layla. it was funny gossiping and her finally showing some interest in what you liked.

-

arrived there, it was already crowded. nobody was on stage yet, but it was definitely bigger than you expected.

you friend touched your shoulder, knowing how much noisy places made you so uncomfortable.

“what aboouuuuuut we get VIP tickets for a quieter place mhh?”

“Layla? its too expensive i cant afford that, ill just- support it” you tell her, looking at your phone trying to distract yourself

“too late babe i bought us some” she says, looking at you with the biggest smile. eyes disappearing and teeth showing. She was your sunshine.

“whaaat? you shouldn’t have- im gonna repay you when i can okay?”

“nuh huh, its our night and my gift, okay?”

you nod and smile, worries erased by her gentle smile.

it was true, it was you guy’s night, and no anxiety would take that away.

In the VIP room, there was mostly middled aged men with some really young, but beautiful girls in their company. all already wasted. from here, you could be so close to the stage you thought if the artists would be close enough, you could touch them. you also had access to the backstage, which was an insane opportunity.

some normal people, like your age hanging out with people their age were also in the VIP. it was less awkward with all of those creepy men probably were ‘sugar daddies’

“im gonna grab us a drink ill be back, yeah?” layla whisper-screams in your ears then vanishes to the bar.

you look around you, analyzing the people. then get on your phone, just to seem lees alone.

“Hey you gorgeous lady, would you mind some company?” a raspy voice said

you look towards the voice and see a men, probably 25 years old, but obviously drunk and maybe also high.

“i already have company, but thanks” you said, gently, not wanting anything to happen.

“oh, but i dont see anyone babygirl…” he said as he leaned closer to you while you backed off a little.

his eyes widen, completely surprised by your non interested move.

“im not gonna bite youuu, only if you ask me to” he says and winks at you while touching your arm, going closer and closer to your breast.

“um.. no thanks..” you said, trying to get away, searching around for layla’s figure somewhere around…

“why are you so fucking rude? huh? cant even be happy someone wants to be with you mh? ‘lil slut..” he said as his grip on your arm was tightening, probably gonna leave a mark after.

“please-“ you started but got cut by someone else, behind you two

“she said no man”

the men looks behind him, feeling his grip on your arm going insanely tight. you hiss by the pain.

“she’s with me” he answers to the girl you yet didn’t dare to look at, feeling embarrassed by this whole situation

“are you with this man, miss?” the girl asked you.

her tone completely shifting from raspy, loud and angry to sweet and gentle. making you look up from the ground to see the Ellie Williams defending you. you answer her a small ‘no’. scared if you talked louder the men would take away your arm at this point. or scared you’d cry from anger. the tight feeling you felt in your throat was cutting your voice to get through, if the knot would get destroyed, you’d probably sob right here, but it would only get tighter, feeling like it was taking the oxygen away from your lungs. feeling like it was choking you so it couldn’t pass anymore. would only make your heart beat slower due to the little air you were able to breathe. but you felt like it was beating faster, like you just ran kilometers and stopped suddenly. making your body react in a bad way in the sudden change.

but that was only a feeling.

you just looked, away.

you could hear Ellie yell at the men until his grip on you left to only see his arm swing towards ellie’s face. only that she dodged his punch smoothly. almost satisfying to watch her doing it like she was the finest fighter in the world.

but the slowmo and the muffled voices stopped and when Ellie punched him. Everything was too loud and too clear.

blood getting out of the man’s mouth. attacking Ellie back. everyone screaming and getting away from the fight, creating a non purpose circle.

suddenly it wasn’t a rock show, but a fight show.

Once Ellie completely knocked out the men, him completely passed out on the ground, blood all over his face. she went towards you

“You okay?” she asked, gently as she didnt even just fought with someone like she was gonna kill him.

you simply nodded to her, shocked by this whole situation, never wanting it to end up this way.

“come with me, yeah? ill get you some water and… clean you up” she said looking at your cheek, having some blood on it.

you just followed her into her lodge. it was quiet and cozy.

nobody was in there, but you were kinda nervous about the fact that you were literally with a celebrity.

“sit down” she obeyed.

you sat on the closest chair you saw, following her orders like a dog, still under shock.

ellie took a glass and poured water in it, placed it on the table next to you, then took a small towel and again, put water on it. she came real close to you, her head titled on the side a little bit, her fingers took your chin and made your head move a little bit on the side. she took the towel and took the blood away from your cheek. probably the men’s blood. ellie didn’t have one single scratch. only her knuckles were brushed.

you watched her taking care of you like a little kitten she had found on the road and just, felt bad for it.

her eyes were concentrated on what she was doing, her fingers touching you so gentle, so softly. her bottom lip between her teeth due to the concentration. she might looked so rough earlier, but here? she was the softest person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“here..” she said as she stopped what she was doing. she sat next to you, with concerned eyes. she suddenly cared so much about you.

“thanks” you whispered, looking down to the glass of water in front of you.

“dont thank me, this guy was an asshole. are you hurt?” she asked looking at your arm, knowing he was holding it.

“if i were you id worry more about your hands” you said looking at them, all bloody and swallowed.

“its okay, dont worry about me…” She said getting up to grab some ice for your arm

“no, take it.” you said, putting it on her fingers trying to ease her pain from defending you.

the room went silent, a comfortable silence. the ones where you didnt rush do say anything or where you werent overthinking to find a subject to talk about.

Ellie on the other hand, was going insane. You were so pretty and you had a pin on your purse about their bands which meant that you were a fan. which meant you knew about her and listened to her music. the silence was driving her insane. she’d just wish she was a normal person who weren’t screaming for her name out there. screaming for her and the fact that they all wanted her. like she was theirs. but she didn’t want that. she wanted to be yours, and it wasn’t gonna be easy. she thought you were scared by her, she thought you saw her completely different now, that you’d stop listening about her being so so toxic with girls with the best beat dina and jesse could ever put to make everyone forget about how of an asshole she was.

about how the girl was hers but she wasnt the theirs. about how she just fucked the girl cause she was bored.

but now, you could saw her as a crazy girl that punches someone almost to death. someone dangerous.

you were just too pretty for this man, for this treatment. she would have done this for anyone, but taking care of them after? nahhh she wouldve just walked away.

“whats your name..?” Ellie asked, looking dead up in your eyes like she wasn’t going crazy on overthinking.

“my name’s ______” you tell her.

“im uh, im Ell-“

“Ellie Williams, yeah i know”

“of course you do..” she sighed at herself.

“fuck- i uh my friend… she’s gonna be dead worried!! fuck fuck” you say, completely on panic mode

“hey, hey, hey, its okay, just send her a message to let her know youre all good, im not letting you out there again, something worse could happen to you.” she says, in a stern tone.

“you worried about me Williams?” you ask her, calmed but surprised by her reaction, slightly titling your head a little bit. the small amount of alcohol in your system making you bolder than you ever could.

“believe it or not sweetheart, i care about my fans”

something in what you said activated Ellie’s dangerous side. she was gonna torture you and never let you go.

“dont you have a show you have to do? for the caring of your fans?”

“i believe they can wait a little bit, dont you think?” she smirked at you.

that goddamn smirk she’d have in those pinterest pictures of her if you searched up her name on the search bar. that smirk when she was on live and someone would tell how much they loved her. or when her fans would ask her to sign on their boobs.

that smirk.

“how disappointed i would be if i was one of those, knowing you were just sitting in here with someone you didnt even knew”

“mhhh i wouldnt care less doll”

you blushed at the nickname, you’d cringe if someone else would’ve called you like that, but the way she said made your panties grow a little wet spot faster than you thought your body could.

you shifted a little bit in your chair, uncomfortable by how sweaty you’ve just became.

“dont you think its hot.. in here?” you said, praying for her to not notice it was because of how much your heart was pumping, making you red everywhere.

“follow me” Ellie said, getting up and walking in another room. you were almost too shaking to even walk but you managed to make your way to ellie. she was in a small bedroom. how could you know lodges had bedrooms? no idea.

“we have those bedrooms if someone from the bend is tired or dont feel good, very useful. i think it was Beyoncé that asked that”

“you know beyoncé???” you asked completely amazed

“uhhh, no. im a small artist, not a pop star” she laughed and made herself comfortable on the bed.

you sat next to her, but shy enough to keep your distance away from her a little.

Ellie just grabbed a guitar that was hanging on the wall and started to play a little melody. her fingers stroking the strings so perfectly, making them some beautiful note and then you recognized the song. she was signing one of hers.

its like you were in a dream, the room was so dark but there was lights everywhere, hanging like a teenage room. making able to see everything with the most perfect lighting, you were able to see the intense shadows from ellie’s perfect muscles. aligned how it was made, like god modelled them himself with his own hands. the way she was just there looking at where her fingers were at to know what note to play next. her foot tapping around with the beat. her hair being lighten by the small yellow lights, making her auburn hair look way more softer than usual.

you couldn’t contain yourself at the sight.

“wanna try?” Ellie asked, handing you the guitar with smile on her lips… her perfect lips- ok stop this madness.

“i- i dont know how to play”

“ill teach you- here, put it on your legs…” she then got closer and took your hands to place them to make a chord. “and here is the chord C major” she smiled at you. “easy right?”

“sure, if i dont count the fact that my fingers are about to explose”

she looked at you and laughed, you did the same. you felt now so comfortable with her.

“alright..” she said,

“get in my lap imma teach you some other stuff.”

“huh?”

“the guitar, you trust me?”

she said, clarifying your dirty mind.

“uh yeah, i do” you said then sat in front of her, between her legs. she wrapped her arms around you and guided your fingers, showing you the chords. one by one.

her fingers felt sooo good on your skin, you were just wondering how good they felt inside of you.

you knew that what you were feeling was wrong, that you two just met but you couldn’t help to press your ass to her crutch. Ellie’s words stuttered, and so did yours. every words were slower and her mouvements were more sensual, if you werent delusional.

the tension just kept growing and only one more move and it could be done for the both of you.

she pressed her head in your shoulder. still teaching you. a hand on yours- guiding you and another on your hip… and she just made you get closer to her, as you could even get closer. you were trying to not moan at this point. what she was doing, ‘teaching’ you guitar and making your heart skip a beat, pretending like nothing else was happening, like it was just all in your imagination. but the feeling was so strong, so strong.

you felt her lips stroking against the skin of your neck while she was whispering you the instructions of the next chords.

crazy how an hour ago you were with your bestfriend, being exited about just seeing ellie live, and here you were, she was literally teaching you how to play guitar with hers. this felt all like it was some kind of prank, too good to be true, but you were just there to enjoy yourself at 100%.

Ellie’s hand on your hip was now playing around on your thigh, she’d tell you how good you were doing. she then moved her hand, painfully slow in your inner thigh. your breathing was speeding up like she was already in you…

she has just touch you so little.

you craved her so much.

you let her get higher, she stoked her fingers on your clothed cunt, could feel the wet spot on your panties that was growing since you got into her lodge.

“is this okay?” she asked you. scared she was taking everything too far, but you just pushed her hand closer to where you needed her the most.

Ellie took the guitar away from the both of you and turned you over so she could see your face.

your legs wrapped around her waist and now both of her hands were on your hips.

the atmosphere completely changed. it was romantic and comfortable 2 seconds ago, and now its so much more intense, the room feels hotter and your nervousness is on the top of your head controlling you to stay still.

“ellie…” you whined.

that made ellie so much more bold. her hands moved up from your hips to your cheeks, not forgetting to touch every part of your skin that was on the way. it wasn’t too slow and either too fast, just enough to realize she was getting closer and closer while her eyes switched on your eyes to your lips. you leaned in, like she was a magnet, pulling you towards her. her lips on yours felt the most right thing you’ve ever felt. they were so soft, so warm, so so tender against your lips. the kiss turned into a make out soon enough like it was a relief from all the tension that had built. her tongue dancing against yours, feeling this feeling of euphoria in your whole body, only catching yourself needed more and more.

unconsciously, your hips were rocking against any pressure you could find. ellie stopped her kisses to only replace them on your neck. you tilt your head to give her more access. you had no idea what you were doing, its like your body went into full control and your mind was just beyond the clouds, seeing the stars when her knee pressed against your clothed cunt. a moan and a a relief sigh escaped your lips.

all was happening so fast and ellie was taking your shirt off, as you were doing the same to her, like in those romantic movies when the two characters find eachothers and they get heated in the moment. like there wasn’t time, like you were late to somewhere.

ellie’s fingers found their way, once again on your clit.

“you mind if i take this off?” she asked, with a smirk, but you could see her cheeks blushing, her breath being fast… her hands shaking.

you nodded, way too speechless of the goddess in front of you

“words, i need words baby”

“take it off” you saw, looking at your legs that were still wrapped around ellie’s waist.

ellie layed you down on the bed, now on top of you, looking at you up and down, analyzing your body. she gently touched the hem of your skirt to take it off. you lifted your hips up to help her. her mouvement were painfully slow, as she was trying to make this sooo memorable.

your panties along with your hips were now on the floor of the room. laying with only your bra left.

ellie’s lips returned to yours, while you could feel her hands getting closer to where you needed her the most.

“ellie..?”

“yes, yes? what’s wrong?” she asked, genuine

“i uh.. can i ride on you?” you asked her, closing your eyes to try and hide yourself from the immense embarrassment you felt, but before you knew it, ellie stood up, you looked at her, clearly confused about what she was doing

to your surprise, she only stripped herself, finding her now completely naked. you could see her abs.. her biceps.. the ‘v’ kind of shape she had on her lower stomach.. her small, yet perfect boobs, only finding your mouth watering at the sight- and not only your mouth but your pussy was drenched too.

“are you gonna stop staring at me?” ellie asked as she climbed on top of you, kissing you- again

maybe she felt magnified to you too? just like you felt so attracted to her

you were winning in anticipation and excitement

naturally, her leg intertwined with one of yours so both of your clits were pressing against eachothers.

feeling her like that against you was heaven. grinding yourself against her was beyond beautiful. the scene was so pornographic that i’d create a new sin in the bible.

“els! im so.. close… fuck!!”

“me too, fuck.. together yeah?”

and just like that she gave a couple more trusts against you and you did the same, as your mouvements were synchronized, as if it was destiny to find her and make love with the love of your life.

you saw and felt fireworks, a big release escaped as you were almost screaming by pleasure. and ellie was just, amazed by your fucked expression she could cum again over and over by just being on top of you, looking at you this beautiful. she couldnt stop.

“els! please!” you said as you felt overstimulated by your previous orgasm.

“please give me another one, please.” ellie was begging at this point. as she needed it more than you, as she felt it in her.

she could go on and on, and you would let her abuse your cunt for the rest of your life if it felt like that.