#so yeah don't come for me if you don't agree with something i said. this is just *my* opinion. peace and love

[gingerrgen]

Spooning

A/n: Hi guys! This is my first writing ever so pls don't expect too much from it...😭

dom!Sevika x f!reader

tw: smut

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Sevika and you have been in a "situationship" for a while now, today is like any other day...she's at your place hooking up since both of you agreed this as a "no strings attached relationship". Since before she proposed this to you, you already fell for her so you didn't even knew why'd you agree to this.

You two are at your house, on the couch hooking up.

"You said we were going to watch TV" Sevika said with a teasing tone. "Shut up" it's the only thing you manage to answer between the kiss. She just know how to push your buttons for any reason; you get on top of her as the kiss deepens.

"Eager are we...?" Sevika teases you, she enjoys it a little too much. "Wait" you said standing from the couch, "what happened?" Sevika asks confused. You walk to your room and bring something in your hand, a strap-on. Sevika's eyes widen as she sees you walk up to her with that in your hands. "Came prepared huh" is all she manages to say. You hand it over to her, no words needed, she knew exactly what you meant.

"Let's go to my room, more comfortable"

With that said both of you went to your room, you layed down but your prior activities had you tired. "Are you sleepy?" Sevika asked, "just a little but don't mind me..." she wasn't convinced with your answer so she proposed something to you. "Why don't we try spooning?", that idea never crossed your mind, not a tidy bit, "yeah...yeah that could work"

Sevika wraps her arms around you, pulling you closer to her, both of your bodies pressed against each other. She leaves soft kisses in the back of your neck sending shivers down your spine, she can feel how exhausted you are, "I'll be gentle". She pressed the tip of the toy in your entrance making you moan softly, "you okay?" she asks in a soft voice, which you just nod in response. She took that as a sign to keep going, she pushes the dildo deeper and deeper into you; all you can do is moan and whimper indefensibly.

Sevika starts with a slow and steady pace "you like that don't you?", you indeed liked it, she starts to keep up with the pace, going a little faster and harder, hitting all your good spots. Her metal hand gripping into your hip to keep you in place.

"Sev...I'm close" is all you mange to say in your sleepy voice, she grins at your comment, increasing her pace to give you exactly what you want. She leans over to your ear and with her raspy voice she said "come for me"

It didn't took you long to climax all over the toy, leaving you panting and a little dizzy

Sevika pulls out the toy with a little "pop", "are you okay?" she asks in a sweet tone, "yeah...you're too good for me you know?" you manage to laugh, Sevika laughs with you scooping you closer to her. "Wanna sleep like this?", "yeah...I'd like that"

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A/n: guys this could me absolute 💩 but I hope you enjoyed it! I'm nothing but a random girl with the need of writing :)

Any suggestions or constructive criticism are appreciated!

hashtags

[tricksters-captain]

Declan O'Hara imagine - I'm not doing this.

A/N: I thought about this one shot weeks ago... finally writing it. Probably been done already by someone else but who isn't obsessed with rivals atm. I also haven't written in years.

Summary: Declan is fighting against himself and everything he believes in when you come into the picture.

Warnings: Age Gap, fem!reader, NSFW content 18+, strong language, bit of a slow burn.

"Taggie, honestly, I don't know why you'd ever willingly add Brussel sprouts to anything." You chuckled as you both crept through the door to the kitchen.

"They're good for you!" Taggie tried to defend her culinary choices for her Sunday lunch.

"If they're good for you then I always want to be bad."

"Who's being bad?" A thick Irish accent filled the room as Taggie's dad sauntered in, a mug of coffee in one hand with his other burrowed deeply into his trouser pocket.

"Dad, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) was just objecting to my sprouts."

"Oh yeah, I agree, terrible things. Even the dog won't eat 'em" Declan brought his mug to his lips, smirking through the thick moustache that hid his upper lip.

You felt your insides alight at his dark, playful expression as he teased Taggie.

That was the first time you knew you were a bad friend. A bad friend who wanted your new friend's father to lift you onto the kitchen table and bury his head between your thighs.

The thought made your cheeks burn red as you laughed at Declan's remark and Taggie's complaints against him.

The man left the kitchen when his eyes flitted back to you, sending you a nod and a 'lovely to meet you, (Y/N). '

You couldn't help but replay the way he said your name in your head over and over and over again until you were desperate for his voice to sing it again.

The next time you saw Declan O'Hara was at the O'Hara New Years Eve party.

"You better not spend the whole time in here. I'd actually like you to put a dress on and come out to dance at some point tonight." You pleaded with Taggie as she clasped your necklace for you.

"I'll try but I can't make any promises. Anyway, you're out there to be my eyes and ears. You need to tell me if anyone complains about the food, okay?"

"Yes, Taggie. But no one will because you are amazing and your food is amazing and you are so right for not letting me help you cook or serve after I burnt the soup last time." You faced her as she continued to prep the ingredients she would need for the feast she had planned.

"You are a great friend but you are a terrible cook." Taggie agreed. You felt a lump in your throat at the words. Were you a great friend for literally fantasising over her father after almost every time you had an interaction with him? "Now please go next door and make sure that all the tables have the right cutlery for me?"

"Anything for you, Agatha!" You headed to do as you were told. Looking down to smooth out your dress when you felt yourself collide with something solid.

"I'm so sorry!" You looked up to see Declan turning, laughing softly at your clumsiness.

"It's okay, love." Declan's own eyes fell down your body, his lips parting slightly as he took in the sight of you all dressed up. He knew you were an attractive girl but you were Taggie's age and one of her only friends in the surrounding neighbours beside Lizzie. "You look beautiful."

The sincerity in his voice caused a chill to roll up your spine.

"Thanks. You look very handsome too, Mr. O'Hara." You didn't know why you felt so shy around him. You were so used to owning your space and holding your confidence when you fancied someone.

"That's very kind, (Y/N). And it's Declan. I don't want to tell you again." Declan send you a wink as he started to pass you. "Hey, and no snogging my son at midnight. You're way too good for him."

Your heart squeezed at the taunt. Patrick was a gorgeous boy and he had tried to flirt with you when he met you but you were far too interested in Declan for Patrick to make any dent in your crush.

"He's not my type anyway." You managed to find your tongue to quip back an answer.

"Good girl."

Good Girl.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself replying something entirely inappropriate in response.

As the night went on, you felt your heart drop more and more. Declan was obsessed with his wife. His wife was obsessed with anyone else.

You were desperate to try and make more conversation with the man but almost everyone was grabbing his attention to discuss some work matter or other.

As the countdown began, you gut wrenchingly watched as Maud and Declan kiss. You put on a smile and exchanged celebrations with those around you. Giving Lizzie a kiss on the cheek as her husband blanked her as he usually did.

"Happy New Year, chicken." Lizzie pressed on a faux smile as you did.

"Happy New Year, Lizzie."

"A little advice for your new years resolution if I may?" Lizzie whispered as she drew you closer.

"You may want to get better at hiding your admiration for Taggie's father. I know nothing hurts more than something you can't have." Lizzie's words took you back, you felt your cheeks burning red and your smile drop.

"Oh, Lizzie, I'm mortified! Please don't tell Taggie." You begged.

"Not a peep." Lizzie motioned locking her lips with a key before grabbing your hands to singing sway along with the room.

The night went on and Lizzie tried to encourage you to join in festivities. You drank more and more, being forced away whenever you tried to help Taggie wash up, and you soon found yourself needing some quiet time.

You let yourself into Declan's office, leaning against the desk, fingers gripping the underside to give you some stability when the room started to ever so slightly spin.

You closed your eyes. Inhaling a shaky breath when you heard the door creek open.

"I thought someone unwanted had decided to sneak through my things." Declan's melodic accent forced your eyes open.

"I'm wanted, am I?" You smirked slightly, through the sickness as your eyelids closed again.

Declan didn't respond. Instead he just studied you from across the room. His hands in his pockets, his stance leaning back just ever so slightly.

"You struggling there?" Declan was amused at your state.

You tried to push yourself off the desk but instead felt yourself stumble forward.

Declan's amusement quickly turned into concern as he stepped forward to catch you.

"Steady on." Declan had managed to stop you from hitting the floor, your face pressed against his chest, his strong arms engulfing you as he pulled you up towards him.

"I'm so sorry..." You mumbled as you leant away to look up at him.

His features were so strong up close. You could smell the whisky on his breath as your eyes lingered on his lips.

"Maybe we should get you some water and put you to bed."

Declan's words drew your eyes to his own. His chest seemed to go tight as he starred down into your glassy (Y/E/C) eyes.

"You can take me to bed any time you want, Mr O'Hara." Your words slurred together with your weak attempt of drunkenly flirting.

"It's Declan."

"Okay, Declan..."

That was the first time Declan had heard you say his name. Something inside him knew he wanted to hear you say it again but he fought against the thought, pulling away from you as you gained your stance.

"Let's hope you don't remember this in the morning, ay?" Declan tried to make light, convincing himself the electric feeling he had was nothing.

"Why? I finally got my chance in your arms. My dream come true."

"Yeah, you really won't want to remember this in the morning. Come on..." Declan opened the door, waiting for you to follow suite. The noise of the party echoed around you; you had almost forgot it was still going on outside.

"Have you ever thought about me?" You had no idea where this liquid confidence had stirred from.

There was a pause before he answered.

"No." He was lying. He knew he was lying. He watched the disappoint subtly encase your eyes as you pursed your lips into a thin smile.

"If I was dreaming, you would've said yes. Goodnight, Mr O'Hara."

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

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As the weeks went on, rivals became friends. Friends became rivals. You grew closer to the O'Hara family and the moment from NYE had simply been forgotten. Or so you thought...

The dread that had filled your gut that New Years Day after you remembered the incident brewed inside of you for weeks. You had successfully avoided Declan, only seeing him in group scenarios and meetings for Venturer.

"(Y/N), I left some of my flyers on the table in the living room if you want to use them." Taggie climbed into her car, shouting over at you as she rushed off. You both had been going door to door for Venturer in different areas to cover more ground but you had run out of flyers to hand out.

"Thanks, Tag!" You rushed inside, running through the house that still held a cool air inside despite the early summer warmth outside.

"Careful!" You heard a voice proclaim as your bodies hit.

Within the blink of an eye, you had hit the floor with a body on top of you.

"Are you alright?" Declan groaned as you winced underneath his weight. The hard floor sent a wave of pain through your back but you had managed to not hit your head.

"Ow." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Did you hit your head?" Declan propped himself up on his arms, examining your face with a furrowed brow of worry.

"No." Was all you managed to say.

"I thought we had left bumping into each other for last year." Declan recalled on when you knocked into him last New Years Eve before the party had started.

"Clearly I'm not very good at keeping to New Year's resolutions."

Declan chuckled, pushing himself up before offering his hand.

You felt the warmth of his body leave you and the coldness of the floor pierce your bones.

You took his hand; hauling yourself to your feet.

"You sure you're okay?" Declan insisted. His hand reached out to take grip of your waist, his thumb and finger burning against your skin that had been revealed by the edge of your venturer top riding up. His other finger waved past your eyes, checking for concussion.

"I'm fine. No more running in the house with blind corners." You took a step back from the man, straightening your shirt to try and control the lingering feeling of the mans hand on you.

"Now... are we okay?" Declan rephrased,

"What do you mean?"

"(Y/N), don't play stupid. You've avoided me for almost half a year now. You won't even walk around the house without Caitlin or Taggie next to you."

You didn't think that Declan would've noticed with how busy he was with work and his life. Why would he have cared where you were or what you were doing in the house?

"I'm still living down my behaviour at New Years." You reluctantly admitted.

"What, that? Everyone says stuff they shouldn't when they've had a few too many. Doesn't mean you have to never look me in the eye again."

"What I said was completely inappropriate."

"Yes, it was. You're the same age as my daughter and I'm a married man but I'll have to admit I'm a little flattered." Declan tried his best to ease your anxiety. "I don't exactly see myself a teenage heart throb."

"I'm not a teenager." You bit back, the harshness your voice surprising you both.

"There's not much difference. You're practically a child and should be going for someone your own age." Declan quit the joking tone he had been using, taken back by your defence.

"Don't call me a child. I'm not the same age as Caitlin. I am older than Taggie and I've been with men before so I'm not playing silly little girl games over here. This isn't some school girl crush on a handsome teacher. You're right my feelings for you are inappropriate because you're a married man and I'm friends with your daughter but not because of my age. I know who I am and what I feel." A fire lit up your chest as you finally had broken out of the timidness you hated.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Declan took a step closer to you, his stare burning into you as he lowered his voice.

"You're the one who reads people. Tell me what you see in me." You matched him, standing so close to him you could feel his breath on your face as you gritted your teeth.

The air was thick. The silence of the house engulfing you both, your breath audible and quick. You thought you could almost hear your heart thudding against your chest.

Declan was the one to break away. Storming to his office with a hard slam of the door.

How did your conversation turn so heated?

That night Declan tossed and turned, his head filled with moments of you. He rolled over and gently woke up his wife with soft strokes on her shoulder blades.

"What?" Maud hummed, rolling her head over her shoulder to Declan.

"I'm awake." Declan pressed himself against his wife.

"I can feel that." Maud looked at him through a sleepy gaze.

"Let me touch you." His fingers glided over her skin until he reached the space between her legs. Maud moaned quietly as Declan began to part her folds with his finger.

"Declan..." Maud sighed as she pressed her backside into him, feeling his member hard against her.

Declan wasted no time in entering her. He closed his eyes as his dick pressed inside his wife. And all he could see through the darkness was your eyes looking up at his. The first time he had seen you in the kitchen. The bump in the hall, the incident in his study, every time he had caught you intensely listening to one of his speeches to the group, the crash against the floor. You underneath him. The tiny bit of skin his hand had managed to caress from the bottom of your shirt.

He had never thought of you before. Not with Maud, not with his own hand and imagination and he couldn't make sense of why that night he finished almost as fast as his inexperienced teenage self had once before.

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It had been Declan's turn to avoid you from that day. He couldn't be too close to you without feeling his throat go dry, a sickening guilt and twisting conflict rising with it.

It was the evening you'd find out whether Venturer was a real contender against Corrinium.

The O'Hara house was filled with people eagerly waiting except one who had decided to leave the house for good.

The house erupted in cheers and celebrations as the phone call confirmed it for you all.

You watched through the window as Maud drove off, leaving Declan and Taggie behind.

"We did it!" Taggie squeezed you tightly before embracing her father and to your surprise, Declan had also pulled you into a tight hug. You had hoped no one picked up on the slight awkwardness that left the embrace when Declan moved onto join the others. You couldn't help but feel it.

The party went on and you tried to keep an eye on Declan without making it too obvious (like Rupert and Taggie had failed to).

When Rupert left Declan's side for another whiskey, (Taggie swiftly disappearing just after), Declan slipped away to his study. You followed.

"I'm sorry about Maud." You made your presence known as you watched him place his glass down on the desk, his back to you when he replied.

"Don't."

"Fine." You clenched your jaw, unsure of what to say next at the warning in his tone.

"What do you want from me?" Declan's voice had a hint of desperation. He turned to face you. You had seen this look before.

"I don't––"

"––No 'cause you followed me in here. You are everywhere I look. I can't even get a wink of sleep most nights without dreaming of two things. You or beating Tony fucking Baddingham. And I can't think of you because you're young enough to be my daughter and I'm a fucking hypocrite for telling Rupert to stay away from Taggie when I look at you in that dress and wonder what you would look like with it on this floor right now. I'm not doing it. I can't do this."

Declan's outburst kept your feet frozen in place. Had he really just admitted to wanting you as badly as you wanted him.

You felt your hand roll the zipper of your dress down your side, your body moved without force as you slipped the straps over your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Fuck..." Declan barely breathed out the word. His stare devouring every inch of your skin.

"I'm not doing this." Declan uttered again barely even audible as if only to himself before striding towards you. His fingers found your hips as he thrust you against the door.

His lips were on yours before your back found the solid wood behind you.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up towards him, trying to bring your body as close to his own as possible. You needed every gap between you gone. You wanted to feel the heat of him even on this sticky summer evening.

"What am I doing?" Declan broke away and dropped to his knees, placing a firm hand on the middle of your stomach to hold you flush against the door.

There was a deep hunger in his eyes as he lifted one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, never breaking his gaze from your face to almost check if what he was doing was allowed.

You threw your head up, trying to find the air he had stolen from you, one hand finding a grip within his dark curls as your welcome reply.

"Please." You whispered.

Declan moved your panties to the side, a finger running over your folds, sending fire against your skin before he closed his mouth around you.

You let your eyes roll back as his tongue darted across your clit. Electricity filled your body with every moment of contact.

You felt his fingers circle lightly around your entrance. Your hand jumped from his thick curls to tightly grip the back of his own that pushed against your stomach. His grip on you felt as if it were all that was holding you up.

"You want me this badly?" Declan asked with a mixture of teasing and shock. The wetness of your heat coated the tip of his fingers and glistened on the dark hairs of his moustache.

"I've imagined this so many times." You admit honestly.

"I best live up to your expectations then." Declan inserted a finger inside of you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips, which made Declan's cock twitch inside his boxer shorts. "Shhhh"

You placed your free hand over your mouth to which Declan smiled a toothy grin at you.

"Good girl" he purred.

Declan rose to his feet as he placed another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in a painfully slow motion that only made you ache for more.

Declan turned the lock on his door with his other hand before pulling himself away from you completely.

You pouted at the lack of contact to which he tutted.

"So impatient." He uttered as he undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then kicking his trousers down.

Your eyes fell on the large member pressed against his underwear. The tip seeping precum through the material in a dark stain.

"Go to my desk." Declan ordered.

You almost ran over, Declan caught you by the waist and lifted you up onto it. Spreading your legs with his knee.

"Are you sure you want this?" Declan stripped himself of his shirt, revealing his chest covered with dark thick hair that you reached out to touch. This didn't feel real.

"More than anything." The words were so quiet but Declan seemed to hear them as he freed himself from his underwear.

You reached behind and unclasped your bra.

"Jesus..." He took a handful of your breast, squeezing you firmly as he stroked his member.

"Declan, please." You couldn't wait any longer. The ache pained you.

Declan didn't need to be told twice.

He tore your underwear down your legs and pressed his tip slowly into you.

You bit down on your lip hard to stop yourself from making any noise.

"Holy fuck..." Declan failed at being quiet. You were so tight against him he felt he could've finished inside of you within minutes.

You reached forward and hooked a grip behind his neck, encouraging him deeper inside of you.

"Fuck me please." you pleaded, trying to move your own hips to create some friction.

Declan took the hint and began thrusting into you quickly. His fingers almost bruising your skin as he held you steady on the desk.

The rattle of the belongings on the desk seemed to echo around the room alongside the slapping of skin.

Declan lifted you up, still inside of you and gently placed you down on the floor.

He hovered above you, just like he had once before, watching your face twist in pleasure as he fucked you.

You squeezed his shoulders, your nails leaving an impression whilst he brought you closer to your climax. You pressed your hips up into his creating hot friction against your clitoris, making you throb inside.

"Declan..." You tried to let him know; still trying to whisper to stay quiet.

"Cum for me, princess." Declan smirked, his stare never faltering as he rode you through to your end. He could feel you tighten around him only encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.

You bit down on your hand as your climax convulsed through you. Your body shaking in between Declan and the floor.

Declan moved you both effortlessly, lying on his back with you sat on top of him.

You leant ever so slightly forward, steadying yourself with your hand stretched out against his chest.

You smiled wickedly at him as you rolled your hips.

You felt exhausted by your own finish but knew you wanted to see the older man in the same state.

"That's a good girl." Declan held onto your hips, helping you pick up your pace.

His lips parted as he watched you ride him, sweat dripping down your skin mixing with his own as his dick twitched inside of you.

"Fuck (Y/n)." Declan cursed.

You shifted your hand to his neck, Declan almost laughed, flipping you again so that he was behind you. Both of you on your knees as he held you against his chest, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck with his opposite arm securely around your middle.

The sensation was almost unbearable as his thick member pumped in and out of you at such speed.

"You think you want to be a bad girl?" Declan hissed in your ear.

You could only shake your head.

"Bad girls get punished." Declan bit hard down on your shoulder and you fought to not cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You're mine now." Declan's own proclamation brought himself to his own climax. He pulled out, spilling his seed over his own thighs to avoid finishing inside of you much to your own disappointment.

"I know you wanted that inside of you like the dirty girl you are." Declan teased you as he gave your throat one final soft squeeze.

You fell against him, both trying to catch your breath.

"Declan?" A voice and a knock came at the door.

"Shit..." The realisation of what had just happened and where it just happened hit Declan like a cricket bat to the face.

"I'll be out in a mo." Declan scrambled for his underwear and you did the same.

"Hurry up! I know that's where you're hiding the good stuff!" Bas' voice was more evident now and whilst he was definitely talking about the whiskey. The both of you couldn't help but laugh.

[ssentimentals]

Minghao + suggestive prompt 8 please. Love your writing style, thankyouu ♡

hi anon, happy that you're loving the drabbles :) thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

suggestive prompt: 'don't give me that look.'

'this would look so good on you!' minghao thrusted up several dresses in your hands. 'now go and change.'

'what about you?' you asked, unsure. first time shopping with your boyfriend made you nervous. 'go and check men section while i'm changing.'

minghao shook his head, sending you a reassuring smile. 'it's okay, let's first finish with you.'

you nod, going to the changing rooms with bunch of clothes in your hands. it'd be hard to call you a fashion enthusiast, but shopping with minghao sounded like such an exciting idea that you agreed immediately and you could see why - while you went and chose clothes from your usual style, minghao picked something completely different on which you'd never look on your own. wanting to appease to him, you changed first into one of the dresses of his choice, not recognizing yourself in the mirror. you never went for more open things in general, not out of modesty but more of them not being your style, but the slit on the leg of this dress made you look... dare you say, sexy. the 'i did a double take' kind of beautiful. it felt good - you smiled, albeit a bit out of your element and walked out to patiently waiting minghao. he was on his phone but at the sound of footsteps he looked up and froze with his jaw open at the sight of you.

'what do you think?' you asked, trying to sound more flirty than insecure. yes, you two are together but you still had hard time believing in it. 'i think it's alright.'

minghao swallowed. 'it's not alright,' he said strongly, coming up closer. 'it's gorgeous, my dear. you are utterly gorgeous.'

minghao always complimented you left and right but this one sounded a bit different. and it had a lot to do with his gaze, with the way his eyes roamed on every single inch of your body with a hunger that you never saw before. it made you feel inferior, made you cock your hip a bit to the side, accentuating your waist. minghao's eyes instantly snapped there, intense. this gaze of his started fire in your chest and you gulped, turning away. 'don't give me that look,' you muttered shyly, taking one step back.

'what look?' minghao asked, smirking at the way you bit your lower lip. he chuckled, deciding not to tease you anymore. 'it's hard not to, love. especially when you look like that. but i'll try, yeah? go and try another dress.'

you didn't want to try another dress. you wanted to go somewhere, where minghao could pull you close and whisper everything what he thinks right in your ear, making you moan. minghao could read that in your gaze and before you turned around, he grabbed your wrist: 'or not. go and change, grab this dress and another too - i'll buy them and we're going home, love.'

now that sounded like a good plan you'd gladly follow.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[spikeys-restaurant]

THANKSGIVING

Katsuki. B x Black reader

Summary: Katsuki spends thanksgiving with his girlfriends family for the first time. They may be back next year and the years after that....

┗ "COME on Katsuki just this once, you'll love it and if you don't like it then we don't have to go next year" she pleaded following her red eyed boyfriend as she attempted to persuade him to be with her family

Reluctantly he agreed, Katsuki had no problems with her family he'd never even met anyone besides her parents, he was just a bit nervous to meet the rest of them what if they didn't like him? What if he messed up?

But she reassured him that they would LOVE him emphasize on the 'love' part. So here they were standing in front of her parents house him shaking nervously, his hands were grasped by hers and she gave a reassuring smile before banging her fist on the door

Katsuki could hear the commotion die down a bit before the door swung open "who's that banging on the door like they the police" a dark skin woman adorning a gray Afro and glasses that hung loosely on her nose

"Oh it's just Y/N" the woman shouted towards the rest of the family, who then began going back to whatever they were doing before

Another woman came rushing out placing a large pan of food in Katsuki's hands ushering him into the kitchen where he was told to help set up the table

As he was setting the table he could feel a pair of eyes on him, a young girl a flower dress adorning her body and two braids going backwards on her head

"Mony leave him alone" he heard your voice call, immediately the young girl ran away from him and you soon took her place, giving his face a light kiss before your name was called again

You groaned before relying and making your way towards the living room

Soon Katsuki was sitting down and a man came up to him, he looked to be in his late 20's "why you sitting on the couch nephew, come drink with us" he was once again ushered up from his sitting place and up the stairs where he was forced into a room

It was gassy, there were people smoking and others drinking a small glass was forced into his hands and he was told to drink it

Katsuki could feel the burn in his throat as he downed the liquid

After a couple shots Katsuki left the room feeling it was enough. That's where he bumped into another woman, there were so many females in your family. She had long small braids that went down her back, and a black dress adorned her figure

"Uhm excuse me I'm a bit tired is there anywhere I could sleep?" The woman stared at him for a bit eyebrows raised, he began feeling nervous had he said something wrong?

"Yeah go ahead baby, there a room right there" he flushed a bit at the sudden pet name but nodded in thanks before walking towards the room

It was a blank room with white sheets, he layed down almost immediately drifting off to sleep

≫ FAST FORWARD ≫

Katsuki awoke to the loud sounds of music downstairs

He yawned eyes searching the room until they landed on a figure. A baby was sleeping right next to him the small child layed on its stomach

He was confused but left the room making sure to close the door as to not wake the child

He made his way down stairs and towards the living room, where he heard the music come from

He seen you, watching as you danced with another woman your hips grinding together to the music a smile on your face as people cheered you guys on

Katsuki wasn't even angry he was happy you were enjoying this, if you were happy he was too

≫ FAST FORWARD ≫

Everyone raced to the dining room as your mother announced that the food was ready

Everyone sat down at the table, he noticed a smaller table where all the little kids sat "alright everyone bow your head and close your eyes"

He was confused but followed instructions, he listened as your mom began to say the prayer. He thought everyone did that individually but his guess was wrong

"Amen" he herd everyone say, he follow suit earning a giggle from you

A plate was placed in front of him, the plate was full almost spilling over his eyes widened in shock, how was he supposed to eat all this?

He picked up his forked it hovered over the food choosing what to eat first, he looked over at your devouring your plate

He chose on eating the Mac n cheese first and immediately he felt as if he was about to die. It was amazing so cheesy and the flavors were bursting in his mouth

He began devouring his food stuffing his mouth full just as you had done not to long before

Everyone at the table was chattering as if they hadn't seen each other in ages (9/10 they haven't)

As he finished his food a plate of cheesecake and sweet potato pie was placed in front of him

This was gonna be a long night

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Sorry this was short but happy thanksgiving

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

It was weird to be home. Thankfully, neither his parents - who were kinda absent, so he never really thought it would be a possibility -, not his siblings - in all honesty, Shen Yuan had been prepared for his kidnapping and atticsiblinging - insisted that Shen Yuan had to move out of his home. His siblings fretted, for sure, and he could see that his meimei and da-ge had to keep back er-ge from saying something, but it was okay. Shen Yuan even agreed to the “nanny” his siblings paid for to make sure he survived living alone. It didn't matter; he could continue to live alone! That was one hell of a relief.

Still, it was weird to be home. He kinda got used to the comings and goings of the nurses, the smell of disinfectant, the low murmurs of life outside of his room. And his meetings with Hospital Guy, but he was not thinking about Hospital Guy. Hospital Guy who?

The point was, he was kinda… just maybe a tiny bit… lonely. After his siblings went home, he felt relieved, but after a few hours of complete silence, it became…

Overwhelming. Lonely. 

His thoughts were too loud. 

Sighing, he switched on his phone. A message awaited him; he didn't notice it even after his siblings left. He just didn't have enough energy to look at his phone.

Fall: Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, it's always wrong?

Shen Yuan blinked at the screen, caught off guard by the question. He frowned; the message had been sent six hours ago. Shit.

Hoping Fall didn't resent him for not responding, or think Shen Yuan was deliberately avoiding him, he wrote, “Yes, but I think everyone feels like that. Every choice you make has negative and positive sides - so you just have to concentrate on why it was right to do the thing you did.”

He thought about it for a second, then added, trying to lighten the mood:

Shizun: Except if you wrote a 1000-chapter-long porn with no redeeming qualities, no plot, no world-building, no great characters, nothing. Then, I have to confess, my friend, there's no save for you. But see? There's no such thing as “everything you do is wrong”. Even Airplane has done something right!

There was a long pause, and Shen Yuan was left wondering if he'd said the wrong thing. He should have looked at his phone sooner. He should have been more compassionate. Maybe he shouldn't have sent the last message. Maybe-

Fall: Yeah… ig your ribht. Its just hard to shake sometimes…

“Oh, shit,” Shen Yuan swore. His friend never was as grammatically correct in their messages, as he had been, but this? This was a cry for help.

His fingers were hovering over the screen, but his mind was empty. He wasn't sure how to comfort somebody, especially through text, especially someone he'd never met in real life. But Fall was his friend. He was there for him, and Shen Yuan wanted to be there for his friend too.

Shizun: For what it's worth, I don't think everything you do is wrong. You are a great friend. You are supportive and fun, and so easy to talk to! I don't know what you are going through right now, but you have me, if you want to talk about it. And you have me if you don't. 

A few seconds that seemed like .minutes passed before Fall's next message came through.

Fall: Thanks. It means a lot

It wasn't much, but… it was something. Shen Yuan hoped he was helping. And if their messages took on a slightly different tone from there on, it was met with relief. They were still joking around, ranting about things, talking about fanfiction and PIDW - but they were talking about other things as well. Not just surface level things; about their deeper emotions and thoughts as well.

It was great.

Shen Yuan still thought about Hospital Guy from time to time, wishing they could have a similar relationship like the one he had with Fall, but… it was okay. He had Fall.

And strangely, Airplane.

The banters between Peerless Cucumber and Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky have always been something like a spectacle for other readers, but ever since Airplane actively responded to his comments, instead of just passively adding things to his chapters just for shits and giggles, it became something entirely different. Other readers would watch their back-and-forth with amusement, and more often than not, their interactions would turn into petty insults, while the other readers egged them on.

Peerless Cucumber: Another chapter, another “surprising” plot twist. I never would have guessed the protagonist would survive this near-death experience. Nor that he would fall from the cliff, straight into the bed of a demoness. What a creative genius you are…

 Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: It’s called dramatic tension. Not that you’d know anything about it, even if it bit you in your ass!

Peerless Cucumber: Sure, if by "dramatic tension" you mean rehashing the same tropes over and over again. Ever thought about trying something new? Or are we just going to keep watching Luo Binghe fall to his doom and survive everything by fucking more and more uninteresiting maidens until the end of time?

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: Look, maybe if you wrote something instead of whining, you'd understand. Oh, wait - I'm sorry, do you actually write? Or do you just complain? Or you could just leave PIDW to people who can appreciate it, and just read anything else

Shen Yuan’s fingers froze over his keyboard. Was Airplane... goading him? Was he really upset by his comments, or was it just to stir shit? Was he really-

Shen Yuan didn’t know what possessed him at that moment, but he typed something out before he could stop himself.

Peerless Cucumber: Maybe I do write. And maybe it’s better than the endless trainwreck you’re passing off as a novel. Maybe one of my chapters has more emotions and sense than all of your chapters all together!

There. That should give him some satisfaction. If Airplane wanted to humiliate him for not being a writer, he has another thing coming!

But, strangely, when Airplane didn’t respond right away, Shen Yuan felt an odd twinge of... regret? Maybe he went a bit too far? He shook his head. No way. He wasn’t going to feel bad for Airplane, of all people. Airplane was the one constantly dishing out subpar writing. It was Airplane who baited him with his little digs in his chapters and notes and his replies!

Still, the silence stretched on longer than usual, and Shen Yuan started to wonder if maybe - just maybe - he’d gone too far this time.

It was a shitty feeling.

Almost as shitty as being ignored by Hospital Guy.

-*-*-*-

When Airplane did reply, it was short and almost... despondent. It is hard to really know how somebody was feeling through text but… Yeah. Airplane was clearly Not Okay.

Fuck.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: Well, if your writing is so much better, maybe you should just stick to that. Or maybe you should stick to reading fanfic. I heard there's one that's “way better than PIDW could ever dream of”. Probably less painful for both of us.

Shen Yuan blinked at his phone. That was... not the kind of response he was expecting. For the first time since their banter had started, Airplane didn’t sound defensive or snarky; he just sounded tired.

Tired and so fucking sad.

That was not what Shen Yuan wanted. He knew he was an asshole. But not this much of an asshole! He actually liked PIDW and Airplane! That's why he was so frustrated all the time! He wanted the story to be better! To be as good as he knew it could be!

But it seems his complaints were seen as…

Bullying.

He was a bully.

Fuck.

Peerless Cucumber: Hey, calm down. Just because I critique your work doesn’t mean I hate everything about it. I mean, I did read over 600 chapters, right? You’re clearly doing something right. You have to know you are doing something right.

There was no immediate reply, and Shen Yuan stared at his phone, wondering if Airplane had ever been doxxed before and if yes, where he could find his address. He needed to shake some sense into this idiotic author!

For all its flaws, PIDW had its moments, and it was those moments that had kept him reading despite his frustrations. The story itself wasn't a masterpiece, that's for sure, but Airplane was a creative genius and it was a shame he didn't realize how much potential he had. Besides, even if Airplane’s writing could be infuriating, it took a certain level of dedication to write a story that long.

Shen Yuan typed another message.

Peerless Cucumber: Listen, some fanfics might be better at some things, like world-building or avoiding the... uh... gratuitous papapa scenes. But at the end of the day, they are still just fanfics. Your story is the foundation. Without PIDW, they wouldn’t exist at all! My - and others' - writing wouldn't exist if it wasn't for you!

This time, the silence dragged on for so long that Shen Yuan began to wonder if Airplane had just decided to ghost him entirely. A strange pang of disappointment bloomed in his chest. Maybe he’d pushed too hard after all. Maybe-

But then, Airplane finally replied.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: ...Thanks.

That was it. Just one word. But somehow, it felt like the heaviest response Shen Yuan had ever received from him.

-*-*-*-

Shen Yuan didn’t usually get caught up in his feelings, or at least, he tried to pretend he didn’t. He had a system for dealing with the world: sarcasm, avoidance, and pretending that everything rolled off his back. It was a good, working system. It didn't break when he finally accepted that he would never be his parent's perfect (nor the preferred) child. It worked when his first (and last) interned boyfriend broke up with him for being Too Much. It was a perfect system when he dropped out of college, when he realized no company would ever hire him because of his health issues.

But sometimes, it all caught up to him. Like tonight.

The hospital had been exhausting. Not physically, but mentally. Ever since he’d been discharged, he couldn’t shake this strange heaviness that had settled in his chest. Maybe it was the way things had ended with the guy in the other room - the one he’d developed a little crush on. Shen Yuan had tried so hard to be there for him, to make sure he had everything he needed while he recovered. But in the end, the guy didn’t seem to care. He never asked Shen Yuan to visit, didn’t seem to notice all the little things Shen Yuan did to help him out. And when Shen Yuan said goodbye, all he was left with was rejection.

The previous days were exhausting; his fretting siblings, moving back to his apartment, getting used to being alone again, Fall’s bad mood… all of those were emotionally taxing.

And then there was Airplane.

The snarky banter between them had been fun, sure, but when Shen Yuan had complimented PIDW - genuinely, for once - Airplane had gone silent. Completely ghosted him.

At first, Shen Yuan had brushed it off. It was Airplane, after all. He could be moody, and maybe he just didn’t know how to handle praise. But the longer Airplane stayed quiet, the more Shen Yuan started to feel like maybe he was the problem. Maybe he’d gone too far, even when he’d been trying to be nice for once. Maybe everyone found him too much.

Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, the weight of it all felt unbearable. The hospital guy, Airplane..

Even Fall failed to message him much today. It was like everyone in his life was drifting away, and Shen Yuan couldn’t figure out why.

He grabbed his phone, his heart pounding, and opened his chat with Fallingfromsky1. It wasn’t like him to vent like this, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Maybe he really was Too Much. Bothering somebody with his emotions… he really was greedy, wasn't he?

Shizun: You ever feel like… no matter what you do, it’s never enough? Or like you’re just too much for people? Like… everyone eventually gets tired of you?

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, immediately regretting it. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually talked about, especially not with someone he hadn’t even met in person. But the words were out there now, and all he could do was wait for Fall’s response.

He watched the three little dots appear on the screen, then disappear.

Then reappear.

Then disappear again.

He guessed, he had his answer. He didn't really know what exactly he was expecting. Comfort? Reassurance? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt hollow inside, like he was sinking. 

Several minutes passed before Fall finally responded. It was one question:   "Are you okay?"

Shen Yuan stared at the message. He didn’t even know how to answer that. Was he okay? No, not really. But that felt like too much to dump on someone, even if they were friends, even if Fall had always been kind and understanding.

But Shen Yuan was too far gone to hold back now. The dam had broken.

Shizun: I don’t know. It’s just… things keep happening, and it feels like I can’t do anything right. I tried helping someone in the hospital, you know? There was this guy I met, and I thought we were becoming friends. I even… I don’t know, I liked him. He was awkward and didn't really talk to me, but I thought he appreciated my ramblings. But maybe he didn't react to most of the things because I didn’t even exist to him. When I was discharged, he didn’t even care. Didn’t even ask me to visit. I just feel like… like I was too much, or not enough. And then Airplane… I tried to compliment his writing for once, and now he’s completely disappeared. Just… nothing. I guess I complained too much that now he doesn't even believe me when I'm not berating him for once. I think I messed up again.

Shen Yuan closed his eyes after sending the message, feeling sick and embarrassed. Why had he sent all that? He’d just dumped a whole mess of insecurities onto someone he didn’t even know in real life. 

He really was too much.

There was a long stretch of silence after that, and Shen Yuan’s heart began to sink. He stared at his phone, wondering if he’d just ruined things with Fall too. Maybe he’d pushed too hard, said too much. He always did that, didn’t he? Overthought everything, expected too much from people, and then got hurt when they pulled away.

But just when he was about to put his phone down, the screen lit up with a new message.

Fall: Shizun. I don’t think you’re too much. You’re kind. You care about people, and that’s never too much. Maybe the hospital guy didn’t realize what you meant by all the things you did, and that’s on him. But that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. And Airplane… well, maybe he’s just not great at dealing with compliments. Some people aren’t. But I know it’s not because of you.

Shen Yuan read the message over and over again, his eyes stinging for reasons he would deny to his death. He was not crying, okay?!

The words were so simple, but they hit him harder than anything else had in a long time. He wasn’t used to people being kind to him, especially when he felt so… raw.

Shizun: Thanks. I’m just… tired, I guess.

There was another pause, and then Fall’s next message lit up his phone. It wasn’t what Shen Yuan expected.

Fall: Can we meet?

[sage-is-in-fact-very-tired]

a list of songs from arcane, in mostly chronological order, that are - to some degree - icarus coded or like. in that ballpark.

- Playground is . s1 ominous Bane. something about their base being underground something about the taunting something about leading people there something something

- Goodbye . I dunno . Something about prison duo during the cathedral something about broters after the cathedral and when they were kids something something

- Guns for Hire. Midas coded midas coded midas coded. Something about the loss of control Something about walls falling (like the Worldport) Something about being out of time and all of that and not being able to turn back and Something about icarus becoming midas' unintentional plaything and-

- Snakes is s1!prison duo. thank you for coming to my tedtalk

- What could have been. I've been saying this since the beginning that this song is icarus coded. Something about becoming something because of someone else, parts getting replaced and leaving other parts that don't quite fit together something about icarus' anger at midas something about how they coulve been good and alright is midas has more control and they didn't (however unintentionally) do what they did. "Why don't you love who I am?" Is both about midas and fable because like . yeah. "I am your ghost" because they're versions of each other and-

- Heavy is the Crown. Something about being a prince and having all this weight thrust on you and something about having this weight of needed to be what Fable wants. Also icarus would scream sing this and in this essay I will- (also something about everyone else assuming the worst once they sided with Fable. Something about how "if they want me to be the villain ill be the villain")

- To ashes and blood is . oh icarus morningstar . something about burning every bridge and killing everyone they can because they need to be good and make it through to the end of this (even when they won't)

- Remember me. Something about becoming quixis and everyone forgetting and something about icarus not wanting that to happen. (But also something about Icarus losing themself when they sided with Fable and something about how they couldn't even remember themself and something about how they needed other people there (who weren't) to remind them of who they were and-)

- What have they done to us is . s3!prison duo. heart . <3 ("you're not real and I can't pretend" it's like that thing they did in tearing it down its like that thing guys it's like that thing-)

- Spin the wheel has violet vibes to me, honestly. Violet feels very comforting and calm to me and I cannot accurately articulate why specifically this song is coded to him but. Also! Ember said it was wheel not fake when I threw it at him and I have to agree here. Something about a break between it all. And for the gut punch (/hj) dare I say the drinking stream-

- Ma Meilleure Ennemie is . prison duo. that's it. they were enemies but also they're gay and also they're sad and tragic and-

- The Line !! Something about the finale something about how the portal is slowly killing them and something about how it kills them worse after Fable dies and something about how this is where they die and end and how they don't want anyone to know and. "Keep the memories of who I was before" like before Fable came and they became so desperate for his love and- mmmm. "Did I disappoint you?" Something about icarus' fear of failure and how it's just. constantly there. "Will they still let me over if I cross the line?" Something about how they didn't know how people would react after they killed Fable, something about how everything they'd done to that point had been crossing the line (something about how they only ever wanted Centross back) "sure there's nothing left to try" you know . the wack. and how they tried everything with momboo. and how it never worked. and how it's not gonna work for them.

- Wasteland . oh its so finale icarus coded. Something about how they've tried so hard for the past 5 months of their life to just survive (and how the fact they had to do that is all their fault) and how they did and they're okay with death now because at least centross is alive and at least everyone else will be okay eventually and they'll all get to survive and icarus won't be there as a stain and how they're going to die anyway and how they might as well do it themself (and how they don't want to face it because they want Centross back and they just . Can't have that) and "if it weren't for you I'd be here all alone" something about how centross kept them from being alone for so much of their time in the resets and . "I know in my heart this is where we belong" like literally ic talking to Rae before they jumped in the hole- "Don't let me go" something about how even if death woule be better for them they don't want to go and they just want more time with centross and as quixis they don't want anyone to forget them and-

yeah anyway . music thoughts go brrr

[letstrip13]

💐 - stood up

summary: when you get stood up on your first date, you call your best friend to come pick you up. but instead of taking you home, he has a better plan.

warnings: none, just fluff!

word count: 1,571

author's note: reupload!! also new acc theme!! + don't forget to read the very end bc i have a couple things to say! enjoy the fic <3

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you bring your phone up to your ear, listening to it ring and waiting for him to pick up. you pace around a little in the parking lot of a small italian restaurant. the cold breeze makes you shiver in your dress and heels, and you regret even wanting to go on this date. you took the time applying your makeup and styling your hair to perfection.

but the date never happened. you got stood up. you waited around for almost twenty minutes before you got the text from your date. all it said was, “sorry, can't make it. something came up.” but you knew nothing came up. just a few minutes ago, he posted on his snapchat story. he was with another girl. he not only stood you up, but he stood you up for someone else.

one ring, two rings, three rings. finally, you hear chris’ voice on the other end. “hello?” he says in a confused tone. “i thought you were on your date.”

“not anymore,” you tell him, holding back tears. “can you come get me?” “yeah, of course. i'm on my way.” he hangs up and you send him your location.

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chris’ pov: i grab my keys and wallet before rushing out of the house, ignoring my brothers calling after me, asking why i’m leaving in such a hurry. you’re the only thing on my mind right now. it sounded like you were fighting tears. you’re my best friend and i want to do everything in my power to make you happy.

i drive to the location you sent me as fast as i can and i pull into the deserted parking lot. the only one there is you, sitting on the curb in your dress and heels, looking so sad yet so beautiful at the same time. i park and get out of the car, quickly coming over to sit next to you. i wrap my arm around you, gently rubbing your arm and shoulder. “hey, what happened?” the way you look up at me, your eyes glossing over with tears, makes my heart ache.

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you look up at him, trying your best not to cry. you know he hates to see you upset like this. you unlock your phone and open it to the “sorry, can't make it” text. he takes the phone from you, eyebrows furrowing as he reads it. “really? he didn't even give you a reason?” you take your phone back. “oh, it gets worse.” you go onto snapchat and open his story before passing it to chris. you watch as his jaw clenches, a subtle but clear sign that he's mad.

“i can't fucking believe this guy,” he exclaims as he hands your phone back to you. “i don't understand how he could do that to you. it's his loss though, you look beautiful.” you smile at chris, a genuine smile, he always knows how to cheer you up. “thank you. and you're right, i can do better.”

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chris’ pov: there's a few moments of silence before i take a deep breath and speak up again. “listen, i have an idea. i know that neither of us have ever been on a real date, but i want to take you out on one.”

i watch as you shake your head. “no, it's okay. i think i should just go home. i just wasn't meant to go on a date tonight.” i run my hand through my hair. “please? you deserve to be taken out on a real date.”

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you think it over for a moment before you end up agreeing. he takes your hand as the both of you stand up and he holds it the whole way to his car, only letting go to open the door for you. you both get in and get comfortable. “so, where are we going, princess?”

the nickname catches you off guard a little, but it's sweet that he's calling you that. “honestly, i kind of feel like just going to a drive-thru.” he chuckles as he starts the car, not expecting that to be your answer. “alright, whatever you want.” he starts the car and starts driving around the city.

he pulls into a drive-thru lineup of a place you both agreed on. the line moves fast and before you know it, you're holding the bag of food while he's driving to some sort of mystery spot.

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chris’ pov: i know the perfect spot to take you. i like coming here to have a moment alone with my thoughts, and it has an amazing view. by the time we get there, the sun has just started to set. it's completely deserted, not far from the beach. we eat our food, talking and laughing between bites. it seems like you completely forgot about the other guy and it puts me at ease to see that.

after we finish eating, we watch the sun go down, enjoying the comfortable silence between us. you check your phone and i don't pay any mind to it, deciding to check mine too. i glance over and notice that you're on snap, more specifically, his snap. i snatch your phone out of your hand before you can check his story. “nope, you're not doing that. forget about him. he's not good enough for you.”

“i wasn't even going to-” “shhh, i know what you were doing.” you're silent for a moment. “what if i get back at him?” “and how would we do that?” i ask with an amused smirk.

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“i could post us on my story. he doesn't know who you are, so he'd think i'm on a real date.” he scoffs, pretending to be offended, “wow, not a real date, huh? i thought we had something, princess.” you nudge his shoulder with yours, causing him to smile after trying to hold it back.

you take your phone back from him and go onto snapchat to take the picture for your story. he leans in close to you as you get the camera angle just right. suddenly, he turns his head and plants a wet kiss on your cheek, just as you hit the button. you weren't expecting it, but it came out perfectly. “ew, chris, it's slobbery!” you giggle. he laughs too and posts the picture to your story for you.

“wanna go for a walk on the beach?” he asks. “sure, sounds fun.” he gets out of the car first and as he shuts his door, he notices your hand on the door handle. “wait!” he climbs over the hood of his car, almost falling in the process as you laugh at his ridiculous gesture. he opens the car door for you, a goofy grin on his face. you step out of the car, thanking him between fits of laughter. “you could've just went around, you know.” “i didn’t think of that.. it was more fun that way anyways.”

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chris’ pov: we make our way down to the beach and we walk along the shoreline, stopping every now and then to admire the clusters of stars that are appearing in the sky. as night falls, i notice you begin to shiver in your dress. i unzip my gray hoodie*, shrugging it off and draping it across your shoulders. “here, take this.” “thank you.” you slip your arms in and zip it up about three quarters of the way as we continue to walk.

*yes, that gray hoodie.

you suddenly stop, giving my arm a gentle tug as you do so to get my attention. i always thought it was so cute when you did that. “can we get ice cream?” i look to where you're pointing and there's a small ice cream shop. it's hidden, kind of tucked away but it looks open. “mhmm, whatever you want.”

we go in, ordering a bowl with two scoops, each getting a scoop of our favourite flavour. we sit across from each other in a booth and share the ice cream. we stay until the last workers are practically shoving us out the door so they can close up.

we walk along the beach together, back the way we came, hand in hand. it's nice to take our time, not having a worry or care in the world as we enjoy each other's company and the sounds of the waves.

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you eventually get to the parking lot and once we're in the car, he lets you pick the music. it's about a twenty minute drive to your house. when you're about five minutes away, he notices you starting to drift off a little. he places his hand on your knee, giving it a gentle shake to wake you up. “hey, don't fall asleep on me now,” he murmurs, “we're almost there.”

he parks in your driveway and turns the car off so you can both get out. you shoot him a confused look. “you don't have to walk me to the door, it's like 30 steps away,” you say with a light smile. “i know but i wanted to.” he walks to your door with you and you start to unzip his sweater. “no, it's fine. i'll get it another time.” he holds you tightly as you pull him into a hug. “thank you, chris. this was the best date ever.” you pull away and give him one last goodbye before going inside, shutting the door behind you.

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author's note 2: follow my bestie pinkfilipowicz on instagram, i'm trying to help her with her goal of getting 100 followers by the end of 2024!! she's also doing a new thing called "madi monthly recap" i'm not fully sure what it is but don't miss it bc i know it's gonna be good!!

check out my masterlist for more!

join my taglist!

[freakymcnastys]

hihihi!! idk if you’re taking request but i LOVED ur 10 things i hate abt you one shot!! i would love to see a part 2 💝💝💝

“are you bored yet?” - katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "will you tell the truth so I don’t have to lie?"

NOTE: there will be 2 more parts after this! (sorry it’s so long 💔💔)

content: 10tihay au, quirkless au, american au, regular bakugou stuff, PART 2 WHOOP WHOOP! (part 1 here )

"WAIT WHATS THAT?" Iida asked Kirishima who held a yellow stack of flyers. "My revenge.." He said with a smile before throwing the papers down the staircase of the school watching as the students grabbed them. "Mineta's having a party?" Iida questioned, confused. "No but now he is!" He responded with a wink before walking off.

While walking out of school, Iida noticed Ochaco walking by herself. "Hey Ochaco!" He quipped, sliding next to the burnette. She quickly greeted him with a smile. The pair walked off together ultimately deciding to have Ochaco show Iida around while talking about the plan with her sister and Katsuki. "Are you going to the party" Iida asked. "Yeah of course I really really wanna go but I can't unless my sister does.." Ochaco sighed hopping off a statue the two were climbing. "Um I'm working on that but your sister is not going for the guy." He explained before a question popped into his head.

"So are you sure that your sister isn't a-"

"K.D. Lang fan? Nope." Ochaco shrugged. "Found a picture of Fatgum in her drawer once." She continued. "Oh so she's into guys like that? Like pretty guys?" He questioned, looking down at her. "I guess. I mean you can't expect me to dissect the inner workings of her twisted mind!" She ranted, not forgetting the theatrics while she spoke.

Kirishima's bike compared to the rest of the bikers made Iida sink into himself as he walked into the bar, looking for Bakugou. Once they spotted him they went to him. "Should you be drinking that if your don't have a liver?" The red head asked, stupidly, earning a smack from Iida. "So we got somethings that might help you win over y/n."

Katsuki just raised him brow, taking another sip from his beer. "Uh first off y/n hates smokers..so uh--" Iida then processed to take the cigarette from Bakugou hand and put it out on the floor as Kirishima nodded along. "So yer telling me that I'm a non-smoker?" The blonde let out slowly. "Well just for now! and well here's another problem.." Iida led on. "Ochaco says y/n likes pretty guys.." He finished as the two friends looked to each other then at Katsuki.

"Are you telling me I'm not a pretty guy?" He asked almost offended, getting up from his spot that was leaning on the pool table. This causes the two teens to scramble to defend themselves and to compliment Bakugou. "This is a very pretty guy! This is a gorgeous guy!" Kirishima retorted as Iida quickly agreed with him as Bakugou went back down to listen to the rest of what they needed to tell him. Katsuki knew he was a pretty guy but he loved to mess with this guys..

As Momo and Ochaco tried to quickly sneak past her dad to leave for the party, he just called out to them. "Should've tried the window!"

"Now where are you two going?" He interrogated them as Momo just looked at her friend with a nervous smile. "Well if you must know we are going to a..study group!" The youngest daughter lied, terribly. "Other wise known as an orgy?" He raised an eyebrow from behind his newspaper.

"Oh come on daddy it's just a party!" the burnette attempted to use her charm on her dad but he still didn't seem to budge. "You know you can't go if your sister doesn't." As if on que you came down the stairs, on your way to the kitchen.

"Come on y/n! Can't you be normal for once and go to Minetas party!" Ochaco huffed, practically begging you. Although you REALLY didn't want to go, you really did feel a pang of guilt after seeing how much your sister wanted to go to this stupid party. Fuck it.

“Fine I’ll make an appearance.” You shrug before heading back upstairs to fix your hair and grab a leather jacket. As you were on your way to your room you hear the door close and your dad say to himself, “what just happened…?” in disbelief. Which made you laugh a bit.

The party was booming once you got there. Of course now looking around the atmosphere you feel regret creep up on you as you soon bump into Monoma.

“Woah hey there kitty cat!” He spoke with his usual self righteous tone which caused you to scoff. “Whatever just stay away from my sister.” You warn the blonde. Before walking away he says this. “Can’t promise she’ll stay away from me!” Suddenly this party started to suck even more than before.

And just as you thought things couldn’t get worse the guy who seemed to be harassing you showed up once again. “Dear god, what do you want..” You let out a sigh. “What not enjoying the party?” The blonde scoffed. This guy is now starting to seriously piss you off.

Just as Katsuki was gonna say something back, Monoma and Ochaco walked past the two with his arm around the girl and saying something along the lines of, “guess who found me!”. This seemed to set something off in you as Katsuki watched you throw back two shots of whatever was on the table. “Woah slow down..” The boy said, rather uncharacteristically, concerned.

“Come man I’m enjoying the party!”

[yellowloid]

what do u think about louise

LMAO i knew this would happen

i don't really think that much about her tbh. i mostly think that as every other girlfriend she gets a lot of hate for literally just existing which is mostly rooted in misogyny. you have to be deeply delusional as a fan to believe you could ever have a chance with your fave lmao and just because she managed to do it thanks to the right connections it still doesn't mean you get to hate on her just because she's your celebrity crush's girlfriend. be so for real and touch some grass

of course she did some problematic stuff in the past (though still """less""" problematic than what taylor did, at least from what i know), but that still doesn't justify people going on her socials and bashing on her every chance they get. you are entitled to your own opinion about her and obviously you can dislike her - but still, without sending her hateful comments/messages.

personally i don't really love her, but i don't hate her either. as i said, she did some problematic stuff in the past - although cancel culture is a problem in and of itself; she deserves at least a chance to redeem herself, and i want to give her the benefit of the doubt and believe she understood what she did was wrong and learnt from her mistakes. still, that doesn't mean we should forget about her wrongs and defend her at all costs like cringe amtwitter does

but strictly speaking of her relationship with alex... the reason i don't like them that much is that from what we've seen of their relationship it doesn't exactly seem to be the healthiest thing. first of all because of the nasty way it started, and by that i mean him cheating on taylor - which i think is safe to say is probably what happened, and if it is, then that was very very yikes of both alex and louise. also the fact that she used to be a fan and idealised him as well as his relationship with alexa (huge power imbalance + her most likely trying to hide her true personality to fit his "aesthetic") and in general the fact that they really... don't seem to have that much chemistry with each other? they look cute together, sure, but they really don't seem to bring out the best in each other, if that makes sense. there are like three (3) pictures of alex where she's in close proximity and he doesn't look like he wants to be kicked in the balls and die on the spot. they just seem very... boring. and bored with each other, also.

but then again, we really don't know what they're like in private. we don't know them personally so we don't know how their relationship with each other works. maybe it's perfect and straight out of a fairy tale! maybe they're actually in love even if they usually look miserable when close to each other! who knows, right? my point is: alex is a grown man and if for whatever reason he chooses to stay with her, then so be it, regardless of what we as fans might think. if she makes him happy, then as a fan of him that's all i care about.

[prentissluvr]

tw long rant and swearing!

hey!! if you don't like something i wrote! shut the fuck up and move on!! thanks bye!! no hate is tolerated on this blog :)))

i don't care if you don't like the way i characterized someone in my story!! shut up and get a better hobby than hating on something someone has spent hours creating and pouring love into and accusing them of hating one of their favorite characters because you think that the fic they wrote FOR FUN and NOT FOR YOU is bad characterization/makes the character flawed in a way that you don't like because you have a poor understanding of what makes fanfiction fanfiction (and also humans human tbh lol). sure, they're maybe more flawed than in the actual show, but THATS THE FUCKING POINT OF FANFICTION!!! IS THAT ITS NOT A REAL PART OF THE SHOW!!! AND ITS WRITTEN!!! FOR FUNNNNN!!!!! AND NOT FUCKING FOR YOU AND YOUR FUCK ASS OPINIONS SPECIFICALLY!!!!!!!! and if you think it sucks, i don't care!! you are entitled to your opinion!!!! hate it so so so much but get the fuck over yourself if you think that telling me it's horrible and unrealistic and somehow creating a bad wrap FOR MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IN THIS SHOW is somehow a meaningful usage of your time or gonna get me to delete the fic or stop liking it or stop promoting my own hard work !!!! i'm proud of the things i write and nothing will ever change that. i hope you know what a shitty shitty shitty (and embarrassing) thing it is to do to leave a whole paragraph of hate under someone's hard work just because they interpret a fictional fucking character in a way that you don't like. genuinely genuinely get the fuck over yourself and find a better way to spend your time than caring more about fictional characters than real life people.

[specsthesecond]

Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.

While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,

"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."

The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.

"Aw yeah cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive ain't it?"

One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.

"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"

One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.

"Why don't we let the lady decide" A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.

"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"

"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right Doll?"

The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.

"....I prefer minotaurs."

This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences but you're already making your way towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.

That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. You think that might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, they could probably smell the need on you.

You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief-

"You causing trouble?"

You whip around to see just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.

"Me? Oh, I would never."

You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.

He huffs in amusement.

"They don't seem to think so."

He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.

You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.

"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"

You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.

You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.

He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,

"Be ready when I get to the car."

You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the groups as they go back to their drinks.

𓄀

[baby-yongbok]

Home By 10

Boyfriend!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✦ Genre: Smut [MDNI] - dom!Bang chan x sub!Reader ✦ WC: 2k ✦ Summary: "I'll have her home by 10, sir" turns into "She isn't coming home tonight" ✦ CW: Unprotected sex, kind of rough sex, finger rimming (very light thumb in the ass action. very light), fingering, ass slaps, name used: Chan is referred to as Chris, baby/babygirl, my girl

✦Masterlist✦

Chris who meets your parents for the first time when you're staying at their place while your apartment gets some repairs done. 

Chris who your dad says has the firmest handshake he's ever felt and easily has him smiling seconds after meeting him. 

Chris who laughs when you nag at your dad to just let the two of you leave. He's still striking up conversation with Chris about his major and his plans for after university. Your boyfriend just smiles and answers, pushing up his glasses a bit while excitedly explaining all of the things that he has planned for after graduation in a few months. 

Chris who your mother keeps saying is so much better than your ex in looks and manners. You scold her for it when she mumbles it to you for a third time, hoping that your boyfriend didn't hear her but one glance at him tells you that he heard her loud and clear. 

Chris who smiles brightly when he shakes your father's hand and declares a soft “I'll have her home by 10, sir”. You almost believed it when he said it. Almost. But he's got your dad fooled. Hook, line, and sinker. 

Chris who opens his car door for you just as he always does. He guards the top of your head to make sure that you don't hit it and closes the door behind you. Just like he always does.

Chris who relaxes into the dark leather of his seat when your father closes the door. He sighs, smiling at you just as brightly as he did earlier. “Baby” He coos, rubbing his hand over your thigh. “Missed you.”

Chris who drives you all the way to his shared apartment for some alone time since his roommate is out tonight. He drops his keys onto his dresser and kicks his room door shut behind the two of you with ease. 

You sit on his bed, watching as he slips off his loose button up shirt, his hat and glasses. That's not the same man that was standing in your living room. “Well don't you look different?” You tease and he smiles, it's bright but his eyes are dark. “Do I?”

Chris who lays back on his bed and pulls you into his lap. “So what was it that your mom was saying?” He asks while playing with the lace at the hem of your mini skirt. “Something about me and your ex, right?” 

He smiles, enjoying the reaction he gets out of you. “You weren't supposed to hear that.” He leans up and kisses away your cute pout while lightly squeezing the plush of your thighs. 

Chris who only lets you deny answering him one more time before he stops asking and starts demanding an answer. “Baby, just tell me exactly what she said.” You huff a sigh, arguing that he knows exactly what she said. 

Chris tsks, tilting your chin up so that you can catch his dark gaze perfectly. “Ah ah ah, I wanna hear it come out of your mouth baby. Tell me what your mother said.” His hand slides up under your skirt, disappearing under the lace.

Chris who coos so sweetly when you finally comply “That's it, babygirl. So she thinks that I'm better than your ex. Better mannered, better looking, Is that right?” You pant in his lap, barely able to answer as his fingers work smoothly inside of you. He had his methods of getting you to talk.

“Words, sweetie, talk to me.” You moan out a broken 'yes', nodding with your eyes closed tight. “Do you agree, baby?” He scissors his fingers inside of you then presses up into that spot, that one fucking spot. “Do you think that I'm better?”

Chris who has you moaning 'yes' over and over again as he curls his fingers into your sweet spot. He's gripping your hip, guiding you to ride his fingers while he kisses deep red marks into your chest. “Yeah? My girl thinks I'm better? What am I better at, huh?” He whispers, nibbling on the shell of your ear. “Kissing you? Touching you? Fucking you? Tell me, baby.”

Chris who flips the two of you over and presses the side of your face into the mattress with a fist full of your hair. He scratches at your scalp with one hand while the other flips your skirt up. He groans at the view of your ass, landing a hard slap on each cheek. “You need me to show you that I'm better, baby? Need me to remind you who's been making you scream on their cock? You want it? Tell me you want it.”

Chris who pulls your panties down your legs and sniffs them before throwing them onto his nightstand. You aren't getting those back, you know that. He lands a harsh slap everytime you whine for him to fill you. He spreads your cheeks, spits down onto your tight asshole and spreads the slick down to your pussy with his thumb, cursing at the sight. 

Chris who teases your pussy with the head of his cock. He runs the leaky tip over your clit and up through your folds just to push against your entrance and repeat the process. You groan and moan his name, begging him with such a sweet tone that he nearly gives in. “Be patient, baby.”

Chris who sinks into you just a bit just to pull right back out with a distressed groan. He watches the way your cunt stretches around him, taking each inch smoother than the last. He teases you over and over again until he gives you everything in one smooth go. “Look at that pussy take my cock, fuck, baby.” 

He moans a sweet strangled sound, Something that you could listen to over and over if your own moans weren't so loud in your ears. He spreads your ass again, pressing his thumb over your tight hole and rimming it with the pad of his finger and pressing in just a bit. “So fucking tight.”

Chris who grabs your hips, fingers digging into the plush flesh while he thrusts into you. He watches the bounce of your ass when your skin meets his, he groans at the jiggle of your thighs and the arch of your back. He throws his head back, moaning profanities through gritted teeth. 

“Chris, Chris, baby, harder please please, more.” You're babbling, drooling into the bedding and your boyfriend smiles, it's fucked out and cocky. His tongue dips out of his mouth to lick at the corner of his lips and drives his cock into you at a harsh pace, one, two, three times before stopping and holding you against him. “You gotta earn that shit, baby. You want me to pound you? Want me to fucking ruin your cunt?” All you can do is moan and nod, exhaling shakily. He grabs a fist full of your hair, pulling your head back. “Fuck on me, baby. Ride my cock, lemme see you fuck yourself.”

Chris who holds your hair up into a ponytail while you fuck back onto him, you move your hips in smooth circles as you rise and drop your ass against him. He watches the way you move, the way your ass just keeps fucking bouncing. Your cunt clenches around him, your moans echo through his room and he convinces himself that you've earned a proper fucking.

Chris who lets your hair go, timing the drop of your head to the mattress with the snap of his hips so perfectly that it has you screaming into his comforter. He pulls you forward a bit, changing the angle just enough for his cock to bully your sweet spot. You're unraveling beneath him, moaning, drooling, fucked out and fucking pretty.

Chris is no better above you, he's moaning, grunting, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut in a nearly futile attempt to keep his composure. He takes each heavy moan of his name as a queue to give you more and more.

Chris who pulls you up so that your back is to his chest while he's still buried inside you. He smiles that cocky smile when you groan at the position change. His arm hooks around your stomach and his other hand finds purchase around your throat. “Feel that? Feel how deep I am, baby?”

He moves slowly, letting you really feel the way his cock drags along your walls before he resumes his previous pace. He feels like he's in your fucking stomach. It feels like his cock is splitting you open and your clit throbs at the pressure. “Louder, c'mon.” He grunts, squeezing the sides of your throat just enough to give you a head rush. “Don't hold back, baby, louder.”

Chris who can tell by the way your pussy flutters and squeezes him that you're getting close. “Shit, babygirl is gonna cum, yeah? Tell me how much better I am whIle you fall apart on my cock.” You whimper, babbling about how good he's fucks you but nothing you say makes sense. “Can't even fucking talk.” His hand goes from your throat to your chin to turn your head to the side. “Look at me”

Chris keeps his rhythm only faltering for a second when you clench around him. “Whose cock makes you cry like this?” He kisses away a tear as it falls then follows with a soft kiss on your lips. You swallow the spit thick in your mouth and whimper a pathetic ‘yours’. 

“Whose the best fuck you ever had?” He pounds an equally as pathetic ‘you’ from your spit slick lips and he smiles. “Whose cock are you gonna cum on? Hm?” 

Chris who doesn't even let you mumble another pathetic whine before he's bending you in half so that you're face down, ass up for him all over again. His hand stays on the side of your face, keeping you in place while his other hand grabs your hip. You're locked in. His thrusts are brutal, relentless. His black tee is between his teeth as he pounds you. Your screams echo and seep into the neighboring apartment but he doesn't fucking care. 

“C'mon, let me feel you, baby.” He reaches under you, strumming your clit like one of his guitars and you fucking sing like one. You cry out so beautifully that he can't help but harmonize with you. “Chris, Chris, Chris, b-baby m’ cumming.” You scream and he drinks it all up. 

Chris who can barely hold himself together while you tremble beneath him, gushing and creaming on his cock. “Holy shit, you're gonna make me fucking cum. This fucking cunts gonna make me cum.” He's messy, licking drool from the corner of his mouth and taking his turn at becoming a babbling mess. He grunts and thrusts and gets closer and closer to falling apart. 

“Don't you dare waste a fucking drop that I give you, you hear me? Take it all, take all my fucking - shit shit shit, I'm cumming.” He spills into you, eyes rolling back, bottom lip between his teeth and a groan so guttural it makes you moan. “You fucking emptied me, baby, fuck.” 

Chris who pulls out slowly and spreads your cheeks again to see your mixed arousal drip out of your messy cunt. He stuffs it back in with his fingers cooing a teasing warning. “I said don't fucking waste it.” He punctuates his sentence with an ass slap and you jolt at the sting. “I'll just have to keep filling this hole, huh? Gotta fuck you full until you follow the rules.”

He falls into a rhythm of fingering his cum back into you and ‘accidentally’ pulls another orgasm from you. He chuckles, low and seductive as he slips his fingers between his lips to taste the sweet mix. “That's my girl”

Chris who cleans you up. Changes his bedding then cuddles you against his chest. You're still hazy, breathing softly into him while he grabs his phone and unlocks it. “Babygirl” he calls as he holds his phone up and clicks a picture just as you look up. He checks the photo, smiling at how fucked out you look even after he's cleaned you up. 

“I'll send it to you.” He kisses your forehead, locking his phone. "You can show it to your dad when he asks why you didn't come home tonight.”

Divider credit to owners [unknown]

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[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

[muniimyg]

♡ 01: maybe it's all in my head

series m.list // taglist

note: hihiii ,, this jk has been rotting my mind for a while now ... time to ruin urs !!! enj the tension ,, (i miss being toxic) lmk what u guys think of their dynamic tho <3 excited to share their little story with u ,, mwaaaa

warnings: oc and jk are mean in this fic !!! pls don't comment being whiney abt it :') !!! oc overhears jk fucking someone ,, jealousy ,, banter

//

���oh. it’s you.”

leaning against the doorframe, jungkook looks at you half disgusted and half disappointed. his arms are crossed with one eyebrow lifted. he blocks your entrance.

“now, now,” you reach over and ruffle his hair. he shifts, dodging your touch. “don’t be so excited. i know your boring life just waits for my presence—oh. i get it. were you expecting someone? usually you’re thrilled to see me.”

jungkook’s expression doesn’t shift, though there’s a faint glint in his eyes. 

“thrilled is reaching, don’t you think?”

“is it?”

“yeah.”

you roll your eyes, brushing past him with a teasing smile. 

“right, so… which are you today? mr. save the dolphins or professor chem?”

jungkook scoffs at you.

“at least my marine conservation interest and organic chem major help the world. what’s your major again? yap-conomics or bitch-ology?”

“help the world?” you almost burst into laughter. “god, you are such a nerd.”

“nerd? i don’t know about you, but some of us care about—”

“yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “are you waiting for a nobel peace prize or something? holy shit, jungkook. learn to relax a little. you’re so serious. it’s cute, really… but only when you aren’t so anal about it.”

cute?

jungkook feels his chest tighten.

before he can make a comeback, taehyung calls you to the living room.

“___? is that you? stop trying to edge jungkook! get in here! i need your data for our paper!” 

you stick your tongue out at jungkook before turning away and rushing to the living room. your lips curl into a smug grin as you saunter off, leaving jungkook muttering something under his breath. you catch him rolling his eyes just before you disappear around the corner, a small flicker of triumph igniting in your chest.

the living room is warm, filled with the faint hum of taehyung’s lo-fi playlist and the smell of old books—his aesthetic, no doubt. taehyung is sprawled on the couch, laptop open, an arm draped lazily over the cushions. his wide grin grows wider when he sees you. 

“i’m here!”

“finally! come on, genius. enlighten me,” he says, patting the seat next to him.

you plop down beside him, legs folded under you, your laptop balanced precariously on your knees. “genius? are you sucking up to me because you didn’t do your part of the project yet?”

“yup,” he says, shrugging, his head tilted lazily to the side. “if you don’t send me that data tonight, though, i might call you something less flattering.”

you laugh, the sound soft and light, and lean into the cushions, already pulling up the necessary files. 

“your boyfriend’s in a mood.”

“he always is when you’re around,” taehyung teases. “he only answered the door cos he thought it was his student. your face must’ve pissed him off.”

chuckling at his response, you ask another question. 

“where are the guys?”

“they’ll be home soon,” taehyung answers. “said they wanna eat out tonight after jungkook’s tutoring session. you coming with?”

“sure,” you agree. 

then, the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas back and forth while taehyung clicks through your notes, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark or two that makes you nudge him with your elbow.

a few minutes later, you hear an unfamiliar laugh and footsteps approaching.

jungkook strides in, casual and confident as always, but this time a girl is trailing after him. 

she’s pretty. 

the two exchange a few murmured words before jungkook’s eyes flicker briefly in your direction. he raises a hand in a lazy acknowledgment, the girl following suit, and say hi. taehyung nods at them and then they’re gone—slipping upstairs in the blink of an eye. 

the sound of his bedroom door clicking shut echoes faintly.

and then, it rings in your ear. 

you blink, your fingers frozen mid-typing on the keyboard. something gnaws at your chest, sharp and unfamiliar, leaving a bitter taste at the back of your throat. taehyung, oblivious, scrolls through your notes, muttering about formatting errors.

but you… you’re somewhere else entirely. 

what was that?

no name?

no introduction?

did she think you were taehyung's girlfriend or something? that jungkook was all for her?

oh god.

there's a weird twist in your stomach. it feels like a prickle of irritation spreading across your skin like an itch you can’t scratch… you shake your head, trying to brush it off, but the image of jungkook—smirking as usual, leaning casually against the banister, that girl so effortlessly fitting into the space beside him—lingers, stubborn and unshakable…

what the fuck.

it’s not like you and jungkook are close. 

you’re frenemies, at best. 

unsure of when it started exactly—but it’s been happening long enough for it to be routine and well-known in the friendgroup. you two are the kind of people who throw jabs at each other during game nights and compete to see who can make the snarkiest comment without crossing the line. you’re always caught in this stupid cycle of one-upping each other, all for the entertainment of the group. sometimes, more for yourself. life gets boring pretty quickly, and jungkook is your fastest source of entertainment. 

yet, why does it feel like you’ve just lost some unspoken game?

your chest tightens, and you lower your gaze to your laptop, fingers hovering over the keys. you bite the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you’ve never been able to kick… this icky feeling begins to take over and your mind races with reasons as to why.

maybe it’s because jungkook’s always been so good at getting under your skin. 

maybe it’s because, for all his teasing and relentless bickering, there’s this… comfort in knowing that he’s always there, right across the table, firing back at you like he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

and maybe that’s the problem.

because now, with someone else upstairs, laughing at something he probably said, you’re starting to realize that you might actually care more than you thought.

maybe you care because you’re not the one in his room he’s trying to make laugh.

after a few hours pass, everyone’s stomach beings to grumble. 

for the past 20 minutes, the guys have been begging you to go up and call jungkook down. he hasn’t been answering their texts and all argue that if they go up and knock; he’ll just ignore them. 

… but if you do it…

he’ll answer.

even if it’s just to insult you. 

you glance up at the clock, already mentally calculating the time. you're not really in the mood for another round of back-and-forth with him, but you know they'll just keep pushing you.

"please, please, please, ___!” taehyung cries, pouting. “i really need pad thai. like… so bad. like, i might die. please go get jungkook.”

you hesitate, your eyes flicking to the stairs. 

jungkook hasn’t come out at all. you don’t want to disturb anything and he’s a total grumpy-head when his study time is disrupted… what more if it’s a tutoring lesson? the last time you went up there, it ended with you calling him a dumbass and him tossing a pillow at you.

“i think you guys can go get him this time," you say, turning your attention back to your phone, pretending to scroll through a message.

"oh come on," jimin presses. "you know, at the end of the day… he only really listens to you." his voice drips with exaggeration, but it only makes you roll your eyes.

"yeah, that’s true…" hobi adds with a playful smirk, leaning back into the couch. "you’re like his… little bitch or something."

you shoot them both a look. “you think i’m his bitch?"

“either that or he’s your little bitch.”

you scoff at him. “please do not disgrace bitches by associating them with him.”

“fine, fine,” jin says with a dramatic sigh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “we won’t force you to go up… we’ll bribe you!”

your interest piques as you glance up at him, eyebrow raised. 

“bribe me? how much cash do you have today?”

yoongi and nam joon share a look. then, nam joon leans forward, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 

“milk tea," he offers, his voice low and enticing, like he knows exactly what will catch your attention. "… any boba store you want. any time… for a week, ___.”

you try to fight the grin that starts tugging at your lips. 

fuck it. 

you nod begrudgingly, slipping your phone into your pocket. 

“deal.”

taehyung bursts out laughing. “deal."

with a resigned sigh, you head for the stairs. 

as you climb up, you prepare yourself. 

you prepare yourself for his death glare and the innocent girl in the background. you prepare yourself for his snarky comments and his sweet tone of voice the minute he turns around to talk to her. you prepare yourself to feel sick to your stomach again. 

as you stand in front of his bedroom door and raise your fist to knock—you hear it. 

rather, you hear them. 

the unmistakable sound of his voice, muffled but clear enough that you can make out the low hum of his tone, followed by a girl’s laugh—a breathy, high-pitched laugh that makes your stomach twist.

you freeze, standing in the doorway, caught between disbelief and something you can’t quite name. your heartbeat picks up in your chest, your body tensing as the reality of the situation settles over you.

you’re not sure what exactly it is—maybe it’s the fact that it’s so casual, or maybe it’s the way the sound of it makes you feel like you’re intruding—but you feel a sudden flush creep up your neck and cheeks.

“oh my god, o-oh my g-god! t-that’s it, jungkook! oh god, baby… f-fuck!”

“fuck—you close, baby?”

“so close, baby. so fucking close. g-god, yes, yes, yes! nghh—fuck! so big, jungkook. oh my god, oh my god! fuck me, fuck me… j-just like that, baby. yes, y-yes–o-oh! mhmmmphhh—”

"shit, shit, shit..."

"fuck me harder, jungkook. please! o-oh? oh! oh my god! yes... yes! thank you, baby. thank you, thank you! ahhh... oh my god..."

you swallow, stepping back, retreating to the stairs. 

the guilt of overhearing makes your pulse race in an odd way, like you’ve been caught in something you weren’t supposed to see.

at the bottom of the stairs, you pause, your hand on the banister, unsure whether you should stay or go. 

you quickly decide. 

you’re already feeling the sting of something sharp and unfamiliar in your chest.

“guys,” you say quickly, trying to keep your tone light, but there’s an edge to it you can’t mask. "y-you know what? i think i’ll just head home. i’ve got a ton of work to do.”

they look at you, confused. taehyung blinks a couple of times, jimin frowning. 

“but we—"

"y-yeah,” you breathe. “i… i know. i just… it’s all good. you guys can go ahead without me,” you add, forcing a smile.

“slow down, ___. what—”

“i feel sick,” you confess. “okay? i feel sick.”

“okay… can one of us drive you home or something—”

“no. i’m good. thank you, though… i.. i gotta go.”

they all frown, their confusion morphing into concern, but you’ve already grabbed your things and hurried out the door before they can protest.

the cold night air feels like a slap to your face as you walk away, but it doesn’t quite shake the unsettled feeling in your stomach. 

you can’t stop thinking about it. 

about how you feel.

about what you heard.

about how much you fucking hate jeon jungkook.

it’s almost 10PM by the time you finish showering. your hair is still damp, hanging loosely around your shoulders as you brush it out in front of the mirror. the soft swish of the brush is the only sound in the room, your thoughts still lingering on what happened earlier. the image of Jungkook with that girl, the sound of their voices together, keeps replaying in your mind, and it won’t leave.

you shut your eyes and try to forget. 

taking a breath in—your moment is interrupted by a knock on your door. 

you frown, glancing at the clock before moving to the door, towel still hanging from your shoulders. it’s late, and you weren’t expecting anyone. 

heading towards the door, you wonder who it is.

then, when you open the door, you freeze.

there, standing in the hallway with a takeout bag in hand, is jungkook. his face is unreadable, but his eyes—those eyes—seem to be searching yours for something. you can’t quite figure out what.

you blink, caught off guard by the unexpected visit, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

“uh…” jungkook clears his throat, breaking the silence, his voice lower than usual. “the guys think i did something to piss you off… so i’m supposed to say sorry for… whatever i did.”

“you didn’t do anything,” you lie. “goodnight.”

just as you’re about to shut the door, he takes a step forward. 

“___,” he says, tone flat and annoyed. “don’t be a bitch. just tell me what i did so i can apologize, go home and tell them what i did wrong, and we can act like nothing happened—”

“okay,” you shrug. “you wore an ugly shirt today. there. say sorry.”

jungkook winces at you. 

“seriously?”

you shrug again. 

“what do you want, jungkook? i have nothing to say to you—”

“i don’t fucking understand where all this attitude is coming from. i didn’t do shit to you today. you know i didn’t… so, can you please use your tiny brain to make something up? something more convincing than hating my fucking shirt.” 

you nod, pretending to care. then, just as you reach for the door to shut it again; jungkook swiftly moves past you. he lets himself in. 

“they’re worried you didn’t eat,” he states. “did you eat?”

you groan at him. “why the fuck do you care?”

“i don’t.”

but his actions say otherwise. 

jungkook then takes off his shoes and heads to your coffee table. he sits himself on the floor and begins to unpack the food. silently, you watch as he does so and can’t help but feel like throwing up. 

“eat,” he commands. 

you glare at him. 

“get out.”

jungkook leans back against your couch. “eat, tell me what i did wrong, then i’ll leave.”

“leave first.”

“eat first.”

“get out.”

“holy shit,” jungkook scoffs. “are you even capable of forming a complex sentence, or is that too much for you? ___, this is called a conversation. you’re supposed to—"

“get out.”

jungkook sighs heavily. 

a silence falls upon you two. 

jungkook has had difficult days with you before.

this is nothing new… but for some reason, right now feels harder than the other days. partly because most days he knows when he’s being an asshole—but today? he has no clue. 

he’s in the dark. 

jungkook clears his throat. 

“i didn’t yell at you today,” he starts. “i didn’t call you names. you called me a nerd but that was it… your face ruined my day but i guess it made the others pretty happy since they were so pissed at me for being the reason why you left… so, hey… how about this? you tell me what i did wrong for the guys. not for me.”

you raise an eyebrow at him. 

his eyes plead. 

then, a moment passes. 

instead of answering him, you pick up your feet and sit on the floor beside him. you look at the door and take the utensils from the bag. poking at the food, you contemplate on telling him what’s going on in your head. 

just as you’re about to eat a spoonful of the food, you suddeny feel jungkook close to you. without saying a word, his fingers brush lightly against your cheek, making you hold your breath. his hand moves to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear, carefully pushing it out of the way so it doesn’t fall into your food. 

the gesture is so unexpectedly gentle that it catches you off guard, and for a second, you’re just left there, staring at him.

he looks at you sincerely. in his eyes, you can see his defeat. 

you don’t know if it was the gesture or the look in his eyes—but your words slip out of your mouth faster than you can think to stop it. 

“she was too loud.”

he tilts his head at you. 

“oh,” jungkook connects. his expression stiffens for a split second, then he schools it back into calm. “overheard, did you?” he asks, leaning in slightly, voice a low murmur. 

“oh, i definitely heard,” you reply, folding her arms, feigning thoughtfulness. “don’t act so cocky… she sounded like she was faking it.”

he stares, jaw flexing, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something challenging in his eyes. 

“that’s cute coming from someone who couldn’t even stay for dinner.”

suddenly that pang of jealousy again hits again. 

you know you should just brush it off… keep your cool and act nonchalant about it—but something about jungkook just makes you feel so off balance. 

“maybe i had better things to do,” you retort. 

“like what?” 

you shrug. 

“like leave.”

“you should’ve knocked,” jungkook smirks. “i would’ve opened the door. we don’t mind an audience usually.” 

there it is again. 

the sick, sinking, icky feeling. 

“you two fuck often?”

jungkook looks away, taking a moment to think. 

“yeah,” he admits. “what? surprised nerds get laid?”

you stay quiet. 

“i mean.. it’s not really any of your business…" he mutters, though there’s a tension in his voice that doesn’t match his casual shrug. you can tell he's trying to brush it off, but the way his jaw tightens betrays him.

you feel your stomach tighten, the words you threw out lingering in the air between you, each one heavier than the last. you weren’t expecting him to react like this—maybe a joke or a deflecting comment—but not this… 

tension.

"right," you reply, your tone softer than you intended. you glance down at your food, suddenly losing your appetite. the casual air you were hoping for is long gone, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that neither of you seems willing to break.

jungkook shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat. 

"look, it’s not like that," he adds quickly, but the words sound almost too defensive. "she’s just... i don’t know. it’s nothing serious."

you don’t respond immediately, still caught up in the strange mix of feelings his words stir in you. the way he said it—like it was nothing serious—feels too much like an attempt to distance himself from whatever was going on.

you’re not sure what you wanted from this conversation, but now all you feel is a growing knot in your chest.

"yeah," you mutter, trying to sound indifferent, but the weight of his words hangs in the air, making your throat feel tight. "whatever you say—”

“why do you care anyway?” jungkook’s voice is sharp now, a slight edge creeping into his tone as he looks at you, his expression shifting from defensive to something you can’t quite place.

you’re caught off guard by the question. 

you weren’t prepared for that, weren’t prepared for the way it makes your chest tighten. why do you care? it’s not like you have any right to, right?

you open your mouth, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you just shrug, trying to play it cool, but you can feel your pulse quicken. 

"i don’t. i just—"

"you just what?" he interrupts, his brow furrowing, as though he’s not buying the act. "you’ve never cared before. why start now?"

you clench your fists at your sides, feeling the sting of his words more than you want to admit. There’s a part of you that wants to tell him—tell him how seeing him with her, hearing them laugh together, makes something ugly twist in your stomach. 

but you can’t.

"i don’t know," you finally mutter, your voice quieter than before. “it's weird. like, of course i knew you weren't a virgin but... are you actually that good? then again… doesn’t take much to fake sounds like her.”

jungkook’s eyes flicker to yours, something unreadable passing through them before he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. then, he smirks. 

it’s more calculated, though… like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

"curious?"

"disgusted, actually."

a beat.

"what, you wanted it to be you?" he asks, his voice smooth, a challenge in his tone.

you almost choke on your breath, but you recover quickly. "me? sleeping with you? please."

he lets out a low laugh, but it’s not playful this time. 

it’s more mocking. 

“yeah, i mean, i don’t even want you that bad…" he takes a slow look at you, like he's mentally assessing you, deciding if you’re worth his time. "not even close."

the words sting more than they should, but you keep your composure. 

you try to look unbothered, but his next words twist the knife a little deeper.

“fuck you.”

"you wish i’d fuck you," he remarks, almost casually, like it's no big deal. "would make things easier, huh?"

your chest tightens, and something about the way he says it makes your blood run cold. It’s not just teasing anymore—it’s a jab.

but you refuse to let him see how much it affects you.

"i’m not interested in you," you shoot back, your voice betraying none of the discomfort you’re feeling. 

he leans in a little, eyes never leaving yours. 

"really?" 

“really.”

his smirk widens, and you can feel the tension crackling in the air. 

“guess what? i think you care more than you're letting on. you act like you don’t give a shit, but it’s so obvious you’re just pissed it’s not you in my bed."

you bite your lip, trying to keep your voice steady, but something betrays you in the way your heart races. 

"i’m not pissed," you mutter, the words coming out too quickly, like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. "why would i be?"

jungkook watches you for a moment, taking in every little reaction. 

"i don’t know, ___," he says, his tone low and teasing, like he’s enjoying every second of this. "but it’s cute. you’re all flushed, trying to act like you don’t care, but i can see right through you."

you grit your teeth, wanting to snap back, but instead, you just look away. 

"shut up," you mutter, frustrated with yourself more than anything. "you’re such an asshole sometimes, you know?"

he laughs again, but this time there’s something darker in it, almost like he's reveling in your frustration. 

“i don’t think you’re as immune to me as you pretend to be," he says. "but hey, don’t stress about it, baby. i’m not that interested either. i mean, what’s the fun in fucking you? it’d be harder getting rid of you than getting in your pants.”

you feel the sting of his words hit harder than they should.

“are you done?” you mutter, forcing a nonchalant tone. "and don't call me baby. you called her baby. i don't want to be associated—"

"you think you'd fold as fast as she did?"

jungkook’s eyes flicker with something that could almost be amusement—or maybe something else. he clears his throat.

“shit, ___. i’m sorry—”

“yeah?” 

you don't know why, but something inside you snaps. 

you shift your body close to him. so close that you glance at his lips, then back up to his eyes, as if you’re weighing something—daring him to make a move.

jungkook’s body tenses, his breath shallow, like he's ready to close the distance… to make some sort of move. his lips part slightly as if he's about to speak, but before he can, you push him away. 

now, he’s tongue tied.

“shit, jungkook... i'm sorry," you mock him. "but you're wrong... this is fun."

[buckiverse]

Missing You Always

based on the steal a moment phone call!!

☆--- paring: sylus x reader

☆--- summary: Your marriage to Sylus has been a challenging one because of your long distant status. Sylus is determined to remind you that distance can't diminish what you share. He reassures not only your mind but also your body, reminding you why you're meant for each other.

☆--- word count: 4.5k

☆--- warnings: mdni, slight angst, there's comfort don't worry, soft!dom sylus, you take a bath together, oral sex, fingering, doggy, back shots, bit of background story, sylus is an eater ok..., (he eats your cum), size kink if you squint, no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: i had to get this one out quick because rafayel is quickly taking over my brain ngl.

Just a couple of months before, you married Sylus. He has certainly lived up to (and well beyond) your expectations. While he is the perfect loving husband, your current situation is less than favorable. You knew what you agreed to in this marriage, and you knew the first few years would be difficult, but it did not stop you from feeling a pang in your chest when you arrived home, and your lovely husband was not there because, well, he is still in the N109 Zone. 

You walked into the front door of your shared home with Sylus, but then again, was it? He is never here during the week. You had both discussed it plenty in the early stages of your relationship, but that did not make the adjustment any easier now that you had moved back to Linkon. Being a hunter was difficult for you, mind, body, and spirit. 

Despite your feelings, you fought to hold on until the weekend. You knew Sylus was coming home to you soon. After work tomorrow, you would go home, and your lover would be waiting for you. That thought made you smile. 

You strolled into your home through the grand entryway, maneuvering through it to find the living area. Walking through the arch, you looked above your head to see the chandelier suspended above the coffee table. Turning your head, you observed the ceiling-to-floor windows, admiring the sunset. 

Your imagination took over, the thought of walking in tomorrow, noticing the lit fireplace, candles throughout the room, and the signature scent of vanilla being carried throughout the room. You’d know without a doubt that he was home. Your gaze would be drawn to the kitchen where Sylus would be standing. Maybe he got a gift for you, he usually does, something that reminded him of you during your signature five days apart.

“I miss him,” you said aloud reluctantly. A sigh escaped your lips, and your hands covered your eyes, leaving you feeling the somber silence around you.

A few beats of silence were interrupted by Sylus’s signature ringtone. Pulling you from your mind, you shifted quickly, searching for your phone. Making your way to your work bag, you pull the phone out of the front pocket before swiping “accept” on Sylus’s phone call. 

Sylus: "You have no idea how much I’ve missed this—just hearing your voice, sweetie. It’s been way too long. Feels like forever since I’ve had you all to myself." You: "I know, baby. I’ve missed you too. Every night, I go to bed wishing you were here." Sylus: "Soon, though. Tomorrow, it’s all about us. You and me, finally. I’ve been counting down the days." You: "Me too. I remember the last time we were together…our little movie night… I loved it so much." Sylus: "Yeah? Well, tomorrow, I plan to make it even better. We’ve got catching up, and I’m not just talking about our dinner date, sweetie. I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. I miss touching you, holding you… just being with you." You: "I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking about it all week. Just the thought of being with you makes everything feel right." Sylus: "Good. Because tomorrow, the second I walk through that door, I’m not letting you go. No distractions, no interruptions, just you and me. How’s that sound?" You: "Sounds perfect. I’ve been dying to just… be with you again. Really be with you." Sylus: "Good. ‘Cause I plan to remind you how much I’ve missed you in every way."

☆---

"Hey, Sy! Are you almost here yet?" Your voice carried a hint of strain as you focused on dinner preparations. You had cubed some steak, and the hot grease sizzled and popped back at you while you basted the meat with a rich butter-garlic mixture, ensuring each piece absorbed the flavorful glaze.

“Yes, Kitten. I should be there in a few minutes, but check the door; there's a gift for you outside.”

“Oh! Okay, I didn't know. I’ll go look.” You disconnected the call with Sylus and went to the front door of your house. You saw an absurdly large box waiting for you as you opened the door. You maneuvered the box inside, wanting to open it. You grabbed your knife, tearing through the tape on the top. Once opened, you saw the little white note inside waiting for you. 

“For our date.” The simple cursive of the letter made you raise an eyebrow till you bent down and opened the box. You found face masks, bath bombs, moisturizers, oils, candles, and anything you could have desired.

“Ah, so he planned a self-care night. How cute!” Then you heard the door creak open, causing you to turn around. You dropped the items swiftly back in the box, overwhelmed with emotion.  

“I’m home, my love,” he said sweetly. A large smile instantly plastered your face at the sight of him, and you ran into his arms. You could admit that while you were growing used to your hyper-independence, you missed him. His scent, his touch, his presence. How your days to weeks apart made your heart grow fonder was amazing.

You ran to him, jumping in his arms. He caught you quickly as you gave him a tight hug. “I missed you,” you whispered into his ear, pressing soft kisses to his ear lobe. He shuddered at the feeling of your kiss, his eyes falling closed. You pulled your head back to look into his eyes. The heat of your soft kisses ran through him as he opened his eyes to meet yours. He placed his forehead flush against yours, a smile appearing on his face. His hands tightened his hold on you. 

“Oh, sweetie, you don’t want to know how much I wished I could come to you this past week,” Sylus said, his eyes dropping to your lips. Holding you with just one arm, his right hand caressed your face. Your face flushed a bit. The look in his eyes said even more than his words. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, “I missed this,” he said, kissing you languidly, almost like you were frozen in time. “And this,” his hand moved, tilting your chin upwards and to the side, pressing a taught kiss to your jaw. “This,” he tilted his head and kissed your neck slowly, starting where your jaw meets your neck, down to where your collarbone begins, before his teeth found your skin, nibbling on it gently. 

A rough breath came from your lips. The feeling of his lips and teeth on you always felt amazing. “Sylusss, let’s finish dinner. I smell it burning,” you said, smelling the cube steak slowly turning into burnt steak.  

He kissed you once more and nibbled on the skin by your collarbone. “Okay, we wouldn’t want dinner to burn now, would we?” he laughed, placing you on your feet. You turned around and made your way to the kitchen, still feeling flustered by how he kissed you moments ago. 

Sylus followed closely behind, his presence warm and comforting. You carefully plated the meal—tender, butter-basted (slightly burnt) steak cubes, roasted vegetables, and creamy mashed potatoes. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, the perfect mix of savory and satisfying.

"Smells amazing, sweetie," Sylus murmured as he leaned against the counter, watching you with that familiar, teasing grin.

You handed him his plate, the warmth of the food almost matching the heat between you two. Together, you carried the plates to the couch, where the night would begin. The soft lighting in your house casts a cozy glow, setting the perfect mood for the evening ahead.

"Dinner and a show?" he teased, settling beside you, his eyes lingering on yours.

You laughed softly. "Something like that. Let’s just say… we won’t leave this couch for a while."

Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I like the sound of that."

You both dug into the meal, the flavors rich and comforting, but the real excitement lingered between each bite, the anticipation building for the rest of the date.

The movie you chose to accompany your dinner was a sad romantic comedy. It may not have been the best choice because now you are trying to keep tears from falling from your eyes. You wanted to enjoy your time with Sylus, not cry over nothing.

But you couldn’t help yourself. The movie discusses a couple struggling to navigate their careers. They got pulled in different directions and did not end up together… It was eerie; it was too reminiscent of your current insecurities.

You turned your head, looking at Sylus, who was already turned towards you. His brows furrowed in concern. “What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours, hmm?” he said, bringing his hand to rest on your cheek as he slowly stroked your face. 

His tenderness and compassion for you were mind-blowing. His never-ending patience was world-shattering. A tear fell from your eye, wetting his hand. “Is this going to work? I don’t want to end up like them, Sylus.” You finally met his fierce eyes, forcing yourself to hold contact as you shared your insecurity with him.

“Listen, this isn’t forever. It's hard now, but it is temporary. I will make sure of that, " he said, his voice strained at the sight of your tears. He pulled you forward to hug him, and his embrace instantly comforted you. “I promise,” he whispered into your ear, placing the softest kiss on your earlobe. 

You pulled back ever so slightly to look him in the eyes. “I trust you, Sylus,” you said, sniffling and wiping your face. He smiled at you slightly, and your admission meant much more to him than you’d ever know. 

“Let’s continue our date. I found those face masks you’ve been texting me,” he offered. “I saw! Where’d you even find those,” you exclaimed and lightly hit his chest. You both laughed together, feeling a bit lighter now.

You shifted to your shared bathroom, which had quite an industrial feel. The walls were covered with deep blue tiles, and the floor was a patterned blue tile, which beautifully complemented the gold and brown accents throughout the room. Walking on your bare feet, the tiles felt cold under your feet, chilling your whole body and giving you goosebumps. 

Sylus followed behind you closely. The brown box rested in his large hands as he placed it on the wide granite counter. He unpacked the box, pulling out the candles, face masks, oils/lotions, and bath items. 

You walked behind him, grabbing the candles and placing them around the large bathroom. The scent of a sweet candle promptly filled the air, spreading through the room. You turned off the warm lights, allowing the candles to be your light source. 

Further setting your space for the date, you turned on some smooth jazz—something you and Sylus would appreciate. Playing instruments was not an easy feat, as you would know after your multiple failed attempts at playing the piano. 

Walking back into the bathroom connected to your primary suite, you saw that Sylus had begun to draw bath water for you two. His hand was wading in and out of the water, monitoring the temperature. You just watched as he worked. He had fresh roses in a plastic bag on the floor next to him. He picked them up, removing the petals. The red roses filled the white bathtub, some resting atop the beautiful bubble bath he made for you two.

“Do you need help getting ready for the bath?” He said suddenly, turning his head to look at you, a slight grin on your face.

“I could use some help,” you said playfully, a pout forming on your cocked head. 

Sylus stopped the bath water and was now ready for you two to share. He made his way over to you and stood tall before you. You lifted your arms, and he moved to lift your t-shirt above your head, tossing it somewhere in the bedroom, leaving you in a lacy black bra. You watched his eyes shift downward to your chest before looking you in the eyes. He laughed a bit, knowing you caught him looking.

“Your turn, Sy,” you said.

“Whatever you say, Sweetie,” he replied playfully. He lifted his arms above his head, knowing damn well he was too tall for you to pull the shirt above his head. So, instead, he moved to his knees, making it easier for you. You reached down, pulling his casual shirt over his head, leaving him shirtless, on his knees for you. Your eyes widened a bit at the sight. You’d never get over this.

“Now, these must go,” Sylus said. He was hooking his large fingers into the waistband of your black leggings and panties. He pulled them down slowly, leaving you in just a bra before him. “Always so beautiful for me,” he said, desire filled his eyes. 

He reluctantly stood to his feet, standing at full height as he moved to unclasp your bra. “May I?” He whispered tenderly against the shell of your ear. 

“Of course, baby,” you said softly. You heard the click of the bra behind you, your breasts falling as they left the support of the bra. 

Sylus stepped back, looking over your nude body. 

You flushed at his gaze, lifting your arms to cover your body. “The bath is getting cold,” you said, suddenly feeling shy in front of your husband.

“Let’s get in, sweetie,” Sylus said with a grin, swiftly slipping off his sweatpants and briefs. He lowered himself into the bath, the water rippling as he settled in, leaving space for you to join him.

You stepped into the hot bath, the warmth enveloping your legs as the water sloshed with your added weight. Steadying your hands on the tub's edge, you guided yourself in, sinking fully until your back rested against Sylus’s broad chest. The hot water worked wonders on your tense muscles, soothing the stress from both your bodies.

The demands of your careers, the physical toll of your work as a hunter, and the mental strain of being apart all faded away at this moment. This was exactly what you both needed: to be close and together.

Closing your eyes, you leaned your head to the side, resting it on Sylus’s strong bicep. You lost yourself in the feeling of him, ignoring the soft glow of candles and the distant music. None of it mattered as much as the sensation of his body against yours. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the hard lines of his abs, the strength in his thighs. Your fingers traced the vein from his bicep to his forearm, grounding you in the moment.

The warmth of his skin against yours was everything—comforting, intimate. You were both aware of his cock pressed against your ass, but for now, you both ignored it, savoring the quiet closeness. In this shared silence, nothing else mattered.

The warmth of the bath pulled you into a sense of calm, but the steady rise and fall of Sylus’s chest beneath you stirred something more. You could not ignore how his hands started to drift, one moving slowly up your arm, the other settling on your waist, his finger tracing gentle circles on your skin. A quiet hum of satisfaction escaped your lips as you shifted slightly, pressing your back more firmly against him.

“You feel incredible, sweetie,” Sylus murmured into your ear, his deep voice sending a shiver through you despite the warmth of the water.

The light touch of his lips grazed your shoulder, and you felt a surge of heat build inside you. His lips lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your neck, his breath hot against your skin. 

You tilted your head back to give him better access, your heart quickening as his touch became firmer, more deliberate. The tension between you that had been quietly building suddenly felt undeniable. His hand slid down to your thigh, squeezing gently, and you felt a low moan escape your lips.

"Sylus..." you whispered, your voice breathless, your body instinctively pressing against him. His cock, which you both had been ignoring, now became impossible to dismiss.

He growled softly, lips still brushing your neck. "I’ve missed this," Sylus whispered, his lips brushing your ear, voice deep and full of desire. "But I think it's time we take this somewhere... a little more open."

Without waiting for an answer, he shifted beneath you, his strong arms lifting you out of the water as easily as if you weighed nothing. Water dripped from your skin, splashing back into the tub as he stood, holding you effortlessly in his arms.

"Sylus!" you gasped, gripping his shoulders as he carried you with that familiar, confident grin. He didn’t speak and just gave you a knowing look, his eyes dark with intent.

He walked you over to the bathroom counter, the cool surface contrasting the heat radiating from your body. Gently but firmly, Sylus sat you down, your wet skin making contact with the smooth countertop, the chill making you gasp.

Before you could fully adjust to your new position, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands tugging you forward, positioning you exactly how he wanted. His gaze locked onto yours as he parted your plush thighs, his breath hot against your skin.

"I told you, sweetie," he growled, eyes filled with desire. "Your wish is my command."

Your eyes widened at the sight of him on his knees before you. You were breathless, waiting for his next move.

Sylus’s fingers slotted between your folds, moving to spread them open for him. Your pussy was already so wet, and his fingers were soaked in your slick just from opening you up. He pressed a firm kiss against your pretty little clit. His kiss was slow, testing your reaction. Your hips bucked from his kiss. He could tell you’ve grown needy for him. 

“It seems I'm not taking good care of my wife.” His intense gaze reached yours. His mouth opened, allowing his hot tongue to make contact with your sensitive clit. 

A moan fell from your lips. You were quickly feeling overwhelmed. The cold counter, your wet skin, his tongue, his eye contact. You couldn’t help but close your eyes. There was too much going on. 

His tongue expertly flicked your clit, and he was messily making out with your cunt. He decided he would spell his name on it. He loved reminding you who you belonged to after your time apart. He moved his index finger, choosing to work your hole while pleasing your clit. His finger stroked your entrance back and forth, dipping inside a bit more each time he made a pass. You moved your hands to grip under your legs, bracing yourself. Your head bent back, resting against the large mirror in the bathroom. 

He shifted his expert tongue, closing his lips around your clit. Nibbling on your clit lightly, dragging your attention back to him. It’s almost like he was punishing you for looking away from him. 

“Eyes on me, Kitten,” Sylus said, his words sending vibrations straight into your clit, as he pushed his larger finger into you. Beginning to stroke your insides, he found that little sensitive button inside you, pressing it firmly, causing you to squirm beneath him, growing heat in your belly. You could feel the heat going to your face at the sight before you. 

Sylus wanted—needed all of you, but more than anything, he needed your attention. He has to know that you share his desire.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. You fought to keep your eye on him, even as your pleasure began to build up inside you. The heat of his mouth, his fingers pumping into you expertly, just felt so good.

During the days you spent apart, you counted the hours away. The feeling of his tongue on yours, his body against yours, nothing could compare to what you share with Sylus. The spots are the only ones he knows and can only dare to explore. He blew your mind every time. 

You shifted one of your hands to grip his white hair. It slotted between your fingers so easily when you tugged it like that. A groan released from his mouth, vibrating your cunt. 

“I– oh fuck,” you said suddenly as your hips began to spasm hard against his beautiful face. Your hips lifted at the intensity of the pleasure running through you.

“I know. Come for me, darling,” He purred into you. He kept his mouth on you as you rode out your high. You rode his face, spreading your juices all over him.

Sylus smirked at you. His face was covered in your arousal as you slowly released your grip on his hair. A lazy smile appeared on your face as he stood to kiss you, his hand reaching out, cupping your face sweetly. He kissed you slowly, saving this moment with you. The way he pressed against you sent warmth through your veins. 

Reluctantly parting his lips from yours, he lifted you off your ass onto your feet.

“Turn around for me, Kitten,” he commanded you sweetly. And you complied, turning around and facing the large mirror before you in the bathroom. You bent over on the counter, the cold granite causing your nipples to harden against it. You rested on your forearms, making eye contact with Sylus in the mirror. He licked his lips, collecting your remaining arousal on his tongue.

And he held that with you, not daring to look away. He took his cock in his hands, his girth heavy in his hands, and he guided himself to your cunt. Gauging your reaction, he rubbed his cock against your slit, and you squirmed a bit, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. 

He pushed into you slowly, agonizingly slow. Your eyes were a bit teary as you bit your lip, watching him tease you. You could feel the burn of him stretching you out. It’d been so long since he fucked you. “don’t tease,” you whined, your lips pouting slightly. You turned back, looking at him directly. “I need you,” you said, your body burning with need.

He kissed you roughly, tilting your head a bit to allow him better access to your lips. At the same time, he sheathed himself fully inside you. A desperate moan fell from your lips, and you tilted your head forward, watching him in the mirror. He took on a slow, deep pace at first, dragging his hips back before pounding back into you. 

His hands found your lower back, gripping your flesh, bracing himself as he pounded into you. The intensity of his thrusts caused your body to create friction against the counter. Your breast, your stomach, his hands on your backside. It just felt so good.

He thrust into you repeatedly, and you heard the slap of his heavy erection pounding into you. The slap of his balls hit your clit repeatedly as he kept his rhythm. Breaking his eye contact with you, Sylus's eyes trained on where he was pounding into you. Every time he pulled out, your cunt dragged him back in. Begging for him not to pull away. You kept gripping down on him.

He watched as your juices mixed, the white film appearing around the base of his cock. A sly smile appeared on his lips, sending the desire coursing through his veins. He closed his eyes, focusing on how you felt around him. Your gummy walls sucked him in, asking for him to stay. You kept gripping his cock so well you couldn’t possibly understand what you were doing to him. He could feel every little time you twitched, gripped him, sucked down on him. And the sounds coming from your pretty little mouth were egging him on. Begging him to come in your pretty pussy, and he couldn’t resist much longer. 

You felt yourself involuntarily grip down on Sylus again, and you turned your head to look at him directly, his pretty face, the flush on his cheeks. He was driving you crazy, too. He kept hitting that sensitive spot inside you, his heavy balls slapping your clit over and over. You couldn’t help but grip down on him again. You watched his eyebrows furrow as he slightly opened his eyes to look at yours. His eyes squinted as pleasure began to take over his body. 

“You feel so good,” he gritted out, his flushed face apparent as you looked at him more closely. The sight is so erotic, a moan released from your lips. You could feel your wetness all over him. Your cunt was dripping at the sight before you. 

He began to keel over you. Resting a bit on your back as his thrusts became more sloppy. He laid on top of you completely, “You’ll take my come, won’t you, baby?” he whispered in your ear. 

“Y–yes,” you moaned out. His eyes closed as he rutted into you over and over as his ropes of come filled you. 

Your hands gripped the counter, steadying yourself until his thrusts slowed up a bit. He was losing his pace and becoming sloppy as he finished riding his high.

His breathing was uneven as he rested his weight on your backside. “You’re always so good for me, Kitten,” he said breathlessly.

He pulled out slowly, trying to keep his seed in you before he got on his knees, and your eyebrows hit your hairline in shock.

“Can’t let this escape now, can we?” Sylus said, slight amusement in his voice as he used his fingers to push his release back inside you before he stood up and licked his two fingers clean. He was looking into your eyes using the mirror.

“Sylus!” you exclaimed at the sight. He’d never done that before. It's a true sight to behold.

“We taste so good together, sweetie,” he remarked casually, causing heat to go to your face as you watched him leave the room.

He returned with a soft towel, wetting the cloth in the sink, furthest from you, so as not to re-wet your now dry skin. 

He came back over and wiped your excess shared fluids from your cunt, leaving you slightly damp from the wetness of the towel.

At that, you rolled over, sitting on the counter, before tenderly kissing Sylus on his taut lips. “Thank you,” you whispered to him. He’s always so attentive, you thought. He pressed himself flush against you before wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Let’s lay down now,” he said, picking you up. 

You giggled at that. “Yes, let’s,” you said with a large smile. You missed this.

☆---

I feel like Sylus and Raf are the most fun to write for. Their stories always have so much banter idk. THIS IS NOT ZAYNE SHADE, that's my man fr.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Curling Iron *ೃ༄

Summary: based on @abq654 request! "Hi!! I don't know if you take request but if you do.. can you please do something like.. reader covered in hickey and next day, the wags ask her about it.. and she says it's curling iron.. and then drivers enter into room.. and wags greet lando like "hi curling iron".. or something like that!!"

𐙚 ln x reader ✮⋆˙

𐙚 fluff + humour + slightly suggestive ✮⋆˙

masterlist ☾☼

curling iron pt.2

your back was against the door before you could even realise what was going on. lando's lips had attached to your neck and his kisses and bites and licks were more than enough for your brain to melt. he was everywhere. you could feel him everywhere, and yet you wanted to feel more of him.

he groaned as his hands wandered and you let breathy moans. everything in that moment felt perfect. well, not as perfect as you would've preferred since the two of you were currently in his driver's room and not back at the hotel. but your hot, rich boyfriend had his hot, rich job to do, so the two of you took the opportunities that the universe presented.

his hands were on the button of your pants, and his lips on your neck, and just as things were about to get good, someone knocked on his door.

"lando, let's go, we've got media!" the person outside sounded urgent. he needed to go.

lando's forehead was pressed against yours as the two of you tried to catch your breath. lando's hands withdrew from your waist, and he leaned back to look at you.

"i'm so sorry," he whispered.

you smiled, shaking your head at him, "don't worry about it, bub. you've got a job to do. we'll have the whole night back at the hotel,"

lando smiled, kissing you softly once, twice, thrice. "i'll see you soon, yeah?"

you nodded, "i'm gonna sit with lily and carmen,"

he kissed your forehead, and said, "i'll come find you," just as another knock came. sighing, lando turned around and left to do his hot, rich job.

fixing your clothes and your hair, you left the driver's room as well, making your way to the VIP section to join lily and carmen. you spotted them quote easily, and walked through the crowd to where they sat.

"hey, guys," you greeted.

"y/n!" they exclaimed almost in unison. you smiled.

you took a seat beside them and joined in on their conversation. the world was bustling, and there were multiple tv screens displaying the track, the media pen, and any interview happening.

just as lando's interview came on screen, carmen's said, "what happened there?"

you turned and looked at her, confused. she pointed at your neck. frowning, you felt your neck, and the little sting of a bruise made you realise exactly what carmen was asking.

eyes wide, you stammered, "oh, just a curling iron mishap, nothing else,"

neither lily, nor carmen mentioned that your hair currently did not have curls and were in their natural wavy state, and instead just nodded, pretending to buy your lie.

the three of you fell into conversation again, and you tried your best to hide the not-so-little hickey that lando had left.

later, when all their duties were over, alex, george, and lando made their way over to the three of you. they had changed and the three of them seemed ready to go home. so were you.

"hey, curling iron," lily said nonchalantly, as you choked on your water.

lando looked at the two of you, confused, "what?"

carmen and lily's smirks were enough to make you sigh. facing lando, you moved your hair to show him just what he had done. lando laughed, shrieking and loud and you knew you couldn't be annoyed with him for more than three seconds. leaning forward, he pressed a light kiss on the hickey, seeming proud of himself.

"you can't do things like these, lan!" you insisted.

"why not? so i was having some fun with my girlfriend. big deal." he said.

"i agree. at least your boyfriend wants to have fun with you. mine forgets about me as soon as he sees either of these two boys," carmen grumbled, causing everyone to laugh.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carmenmundt and 56,109 others

yourusername: boyfie's choice of celebration tonight!

view all 39,850 comments

user1 "boyfie" my heart 😩😩😩😩😩

landonorris the best kind of celebration

lnfour LFGGGG P2

user2 i thought drivers weren't allowed to eat junk???

user3 stfu

carmenmundt curling iron on podium 💪🏻

lilymhe so proud of our curling iron

user4 curling iron??? what is happening??? is that his codename???

user6 why tf would they call him curling iron?

user5 i need this gossip please

user7 LANDO P2 HELL YEAH

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

hi! i hope you like this! i added a little smau as well, cause i felt like it 🤷🏻‍♀️ i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!