#the little 'woo' at the end omg

[cielospeaks]

ngl i kinda wish ganglot had a friend/friends who would have a dynamic w her like bill and ted + the grim reaper

[jensthwa]

i was made for lovin' you (PSH x reader)

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

In an attempt to grasp at his youth, Seonghwa buys a motorcycle despite not knowing the first thing about them. When it inevitably breaks down, he has no other option that to ride it to a mechanic shop and, after following a sweet hum, he’s faced with the life-changing (and predictable) fact that, maybe, what he needed after all was not a motorcycle. Maybe, just maybe, what he needed was you.  

PAIRING: new bike owner!seonghwa x afab mechanic!reader.

GENRE: strangers to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 20k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both seonghwa's and reader's), wooyoung being a little shit for the umpteenth time + jongho, yeosang AND hongjoong (omg), that feeling you get when your youth is ending, midlife crisis! (or so yunho says), a loooot of work related/motorcycle plot, flirting, seonghwa losing his rizz, reader is adopted so that may count as a trigger warning for some of you, shitty exes, crying a bit but not really, pet and nicknames (ghost, dear), they almost get caught in a thunderstorm, lots of tension, making out, oral ( f & m reciving ), descriptions of the female anatomy, floor AND protected sex ( wrap it up pls ), the ending leads straight up to the next story on this universe so be aware of that.

NOTES: hello everyone! after almost a month in the making, here you have it! THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone, although there's some characters and scenarios you can understand better if you read the last three parts (you can find them in my masterlist). this really didn't need to be so lenghty but it turned out that way for some reason (i'm the mayor of yap town). this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: september 02 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68, @e3ellie, @alsomimi

masterlist.

Seonghwa is proud to be the type of person who can just tell what's going on after assessing a situation for a few seconds. 

His intuition is something he can rely on and he almost never misses the mark when he makes predictions that he doesn't share with anyone else in case it brings anyone down. 

As he watches San kissing his girlfriend's cheek and then stare at her like a lovestruck idiot, his mouth quirks up a bit and he quickly hides it behind the soda can he's been nursing for the past couple of minutes. 

He's happy it finally happened. 

He's also a little butthurt that he didn't get the chance to fully get to know her first. 

They've been together for a few months now, maybe four if he recalls correctly. Back then, he danced with her at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment like he didn't know one of his closest friends had been in love with her since they both were in highschool. 

He didn't tell anyone, but a part of him did it to see if it would prompt a reaction. And, from what he was told by Wooyoung, it did. 

She is his type of person, though. And when he texted her a few days later and she sent in a non-detailed voice note briefly explaining what went down after they all left the party and she stayed behind to help her drunk best friend, he told her he understood and that he kind of already knew. 

Or at least, he expected it. 

He also explained to San that, although his intentions with his girlfriend (before she was his girlfriend) were mostly genuine, he’s obviously not in love with her. 

After all, they only met that one time and now, back in San and Woo’s shared apartment for what feels like an overdue reunion after months of busy schedules and adult life, he can assure them both with a nod and smile that he is, indeed, happy for them. 

He treasures admiration for those who are able to find love in this modern age, anyway. 

Now there's two couples in the group. Seonghwa has never been the type of guy who chases relationships and has a goal set on when and how to get married. He simply exists and welcomes the opportunities life gives him as they come. 

That's how he got his job at Room for More. His professor gave him a recommendation letter after finishing the last presentation of his career and suggested he try his luck at his colleague’s company. 

And now he's actually doing what he studied to do and he's loving it. Working in interior design and fighting minimalism while he's at it? 

Incredible. Life could not be better. 

Kind of.

As rare as those types of opportunities are, he truly believes it is way easier to find a niche profession people are actually comfortable with than it is to find love in modern society. 

Life might give you your dream job out of nowhere, but it can also take away the opportunity of finding a partner you can celebrate your success with. 

He never even told his friends when he got the job. Only Hongjoong, who then passed on the word to the rest of the group and, after they all congratulated him for it, they quickly moved on to their tesis and focused on not letting their last year of university eat them up while they were at it. 

Except for Jongho, he very much had a few months left to ignore the unavoidable adulthood period he was about to suddenly enter his senior year. The rest of them, minus Hongjoong, had the right to grasp as much as they could of the freedom of only being weighed down by exams and not by other obligations like rent and bills. 

Wooyoung and San’s lease is being paid by their parents, so they don't really count. 

And Hongjoong lives with his bandmates in a little apartment above the rehearsal space provided by a lovely grandma who treats them all like they are her sons, so he doesn't really count either. 

Seonghwa feels like, in the span of a year, he took a whole step forward while everyone else is still enjoying their youth. Now, he has presentations and meetings with clients he needs to worry about. 

Love is not his top priority, not that it ever was, but now it barely crosses his mind. 

He just wants to stay cool and young for a few more years before giving in completely into feeling like an adult. 

So, naturally, what's the first idea that popped in his mind a few weeks ago when thinking about the inescapable passage of time? 

That he should definitely be a little more irresponsible with his finances. Why not? He's in the perfect period of his life where he's allowed to make a mistake without the fear of eternal judgment by a superior being. 

The superior being happens to be his mother, of course. Who else would it be? The woman could make a God shake in their shiny boots and silence them with a single scowl. 

She's all the way back in his hometown, though and she's really rooting for him to make it big in the city. 

Surely, she wouldn't mind if he bought a motorcycle to help him commute faster to his appointments, right? 

Well, he's about to find out any day now.

Looking out of the window that looks to the street, Seonghwa can see his new acquisition parked and sparkling under the streetlamp and the smile that it brings to his lips it's big enough for Yunho to bump him with his hip and lean against the window sill as well. 

“Who's making you smile like that?” he asks, looking away from Seonghwa and following his line of sight till it reaches the beautiful Bonneville he just got on a great deal with a guy who wanted to get rid of it. 

The auction post said that it was because it looked too vintage and the owner wanted to upgrade to something more ‘modern looking’. 

A fool, he thought. 

Because to him, this bike checks all his marks: it is modern enough that in case he needed to get any parts for it, it wouldn't make him lose his mind in the process. But also, it has that vintage, nostalgic, old film feel and look to it that is just right up his alley. 

He loves it. 

Huh, maybe he did find true love after all. 

And after breaking open his savings, Seonghwa managed to get a hold of it without financially ruining himself. Only a bit. 

He didn't tell any of his friends about it, maybe that's why Yunho whistles after he checks it out. 

“Now who's riding that baby?” 

“Me,” Seonghwa smiles, turning to his friend who, as the response dawns on him, drops his jaw and lets out an amused chuckle “What? That's my bike!” 

“Are you being serious?” 

“Why would I lie to you?” He returns, softly. 

A bit passes and then Yunho turns to everyone else scattered around the living room. 

“Guys, Seonghwa is having an early mid-life crisis and bought a motorcycle!” 

Yeosang gasps “Ain't no way…” 

“Hwa? A motorcycle?” Wooyoung hollers, louder than everyone else “What's next? Tattoos?!” 

Oh, for the love of God. 

Maybe there's a reason he didn't tell anyone until now. Everyone gathers around the window to look at it like children at a zoo and he takes a step back, sitting on the arm on the couch, a subtle smile on his lips. 

The only person that turns to him is San’s girlfriend, smiling proudly like he just won the lottery or something. 

Damn, she really is his type. 

“Are you happy?” She asks and it tugs at his lonely heart strings like crazy. 

He pushes through, nodding and shrugging a bit, dismissing his feelings for the final time. It's not really her, he reminds himself. It's the thought of having someone in his life that treats him the way she treats San. 

“Sure am,” he murmurs “My bank account? Not so much.” 

She laughs and Jongho turns to him at that “Are you an old man with debts now? Noooo,” he pouts “Who am I going to ask for bail money now?” 

Gyuri, Wooyoung's ex-girlfriend who somehow manages to stay friends with him, scoffs “You've never been to jail, kid.” 

“But he's the first person on my emergency contact list for that!” 

And just like that, they all pull away from the window and back into their seats to discuss the reasons why Jongho would end up behind bars. 

Being annoying seems to be winning. 

Seonghwa is glad to take the attention off of him. This way, he can't be caught staring at the way Mingi’s girlfriend sits on his lap and nuzzles her nose against her boyfriend’s neck. This way, the sigh he lets out when he catches San whispering sweet things into his girl’s ear gets lost amidst pointless banter and giggling. 

He shouldn't feel envious. 

But somehow he ended up wearing a green short-sleeve today, so it checks out. 

“Important client. Wants to renovate their whole space, his apartment and his office.” 

His boss is excited. It makes him smile as he stares at her with his hands behind his back, like he usually does when he receives instructions. 

“He loved your work, I showed him the photo studio you helped with last month and requested you specifically. He said that he feels trapped in a box every time he gets to work and everytime he returns home, so… He wants you to lead the project,” she smiles, tapping her manicured nails against her desk and cocking her head to the side “Congratulations, kid, you got your first big commission coming.” 

“Thank you so much,” he bows, his body bending out of pure gratefulness and instinct “I'll make sure to run everything by you accordingly, boss.” 

“Well, I'm expecting a report in two days.” 

“Two days?” 

“Mhm. He wants to meet with you this afternoon… In four hours, exactly. I already sent you an email with the details,” she gets up from her desk, extending her hand towards him and he rushes to shake it “You're doing the initial assessment today, alone. Everyone else has something going on.” 

Fuck. 

“Of course,” he's worried and anxious, but he makes sure none of it shows as he gives her hand a firmer shake before letting it go “I'll do my initial research in the meantime, then.” 

She nods and dismisses him with her hand. 

He stresses the whole time he looks up the name and company of this new client. It seems like a serious business, not the kind that wants to reject minimalism especially when the nation's professional aesthetic runs on it. 

It’s a modern tech silicon valley run by, what he's able to gather, a very rich family his new client is part of. There's a picture of them, smiling at an event, looking like the nightmare of working class people. 

He tends to keep his opinions on chaebol’s at bay (Yunho is his friend and he’s rich, so he can't really voice what he thinks so freely anyway) but the fact that they contacted his company, an interior design business with barely any recognition amongst their competitors, is both surprising and concerning. 

He clicks an article where his new client is featured. He's the heir of his family's empire, a tech savvy himself and he can tell, from the way they framed his answers, that he is well media-trained. 

Seonghwa has no name for himself. Why would he request him? He's not so sure the ambiance he helped to create in a mere photo studio is what is granting him this opportunity. 

His intuition is telling him, as he clicks for his initial research to print, that there must be an ulterior motive. 

But he's going to embrace the chance of securing his rent money either way. 

He just hopes his hair is presentable enough when he gets there. The helmet he bought is really not helping, the wind that somehow gets into it as he cruises through the streets doesn't help either.

Wanna know what else adds up to his problems today? The engine sounds weird. 

It sounds fucking weird. 

At a red light, Seonghwa lifts up his visor and tries to figure out what the hell is going on as much as he can. 

He's too green for this. Too new to this world. 

Would his mother scold him if she finds out he lied about doing a thorough research about the bike world before investing in one? 

He looks at his watch. He has time to spare, an hour and a half before the meeting takes place. 

Before he can fully make a decision, his body weight is making him turn into a street he doesn't know that well. But he's sure he saw a repair shop on the way to work today. 

Or was it just a body shop? Maybe he imagined it and the sudden panic he feels rising and darkening his cheeks under the visor is convincing him he's right. 

When he sees the floatable mascot waving in the wind, he lets out a sigh of relief. 

Pulling up, he sees a few cars with their hood open and a few new, modern bikes to the side, so he parks a few meters from them and when he turns off the engine and gets down from his -apparently- damaged new acquisition, he feels like he can finally breathe. 

No, scratch that, he takes his helmet off and then he's able to breathe. 

When he scans the place, there's not a soul in sight. 

Until he hears someone humming. It's a song he heard before, he can't quite put it together by the melody but it sounds like something he used to enjoy when he entertained the idea of joining Hongjoong's band all the way back in first semester of college. 

Something with heavy guitars, which kind of fits the place’s vibe. Looking around, he swears to himself he's trying to find the source of the humming.

After all, he doesn't have much time to take in the place.

But he does anyway. 

When he steps deeper into the shop, he feels like he's been teletransported into a decade he never got to experience, into a culture that is not his to experience in the first place. 

It's like a Sons of Anarchy set, something he would see in an indie two thousands movie, maybe. There's a lot of stuff laying around, an organized chaos he guesses he can attribute to the nature of this kind of job. 

But there's also a lot on the walls, aside from the usual tools hanging from it that look worn out there's posters and the Harley Davidson logo plastered at least five times in shirts, hats and jacket applique patches. 

He thinks the walls can be painted a new, muted color instead of the sort-of bright blue and beige they have going on. 

Focus. What the hell. 

Shaking his head, he follows the sound of the voice until he reaches the back of the shop. There's what it looks like an office, maybe a reception? With a door that's wide open and seems to lead to a storage he doesn't need to get in to. 

There, on her knees, he sees the source of the sound: A girl. 

A beautiful, beautiful girl. 

With her hair out of her face and overalls that seem too loose on her frame. 

Is his heart okay? It feels like it stopped beating. 

And then the beating comes back in full blast, goosebumps on his skin reminding him to speak up. Clearing his throat softly, he does. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh, shit,” she drops whatever she's working on, stops writing something down on a notebook that looks like it's about to run out of space “You fucking scared me!” 

“I can… see that. I'm sorry.” 

“Did you float all the way down here? Fucking Christ,” she mumbles something under her breath, getting up from her position and leaning into the desk in a way Seonghwa will probably remember forever. He gulps “What can I help you with, Ghost?” 

She's breathtakingly beautiful and he, who's usually smooth with words and random interactions, stammers out his response “H-hey, yes I… I'm Park Seonghwa,” he starts, smiling a bit “I was hoping there was someone here who can help me with my bike?” 

She looks around and he assumes she's looking for someone until he sees the corner of her lip curving up a bit “As I said, what can I help you with?” 

Did he already fuck this whole thing up? 

“Oh! I wasn't suggesting that you couldn't— I mean that's not what I…” her smirks widens, he suddenly remembers he's running out of time so he gets it together “I just bought a motorcycle and I'm sure the engine is not supposed to sound the way it's sounding so I thought I could use someone taking a look?” He gets out as fast as he can and the stranger claps her hands in a way that makes him take a step back. 

She intimidates him. Just a little bit. 

“First time owner?” She asks but he's sure she already knows. 

Chuckling nervously, Seonghwa nods “What gave it away?” 

“Your gear,” she simply states, getting out from behind the desk and into the garage space, moving swiftly through it like she owns the place. Damn, does she own the place? “You're barely wearing any. I get it, it's stuffy,” she turns over her shoulder to smile at him “It'll grow on you.” 

“More like I'll get used to it, I feel like.” 

“Yeah,” she rounds a car, tapping the hood of it and taking a pause as she scans the front of the place “That's what I said.” 

That's definitely not what she said. 

He's not sure if she's being rude or merely sarcastic, but he shouldn't be enjoying it the way he is. What drags him out of it is the way laughs when she sees his bike “This one?”

Concerning. Danger. Why is she laughing?! 

“Y-yeah.” 

“I don't get to see this type of bike often. Damn, she's beautiful.” 

He smiles, taking down his worries a notch “Yeah, I got a great deal for it. The guy said he wanted something like that instead,” he points at the one right next to his “Said he wanted something that looked out of Terminator. I didn't have the heart to tell him that they used a Harley Davidson for the movies.” 

“I'm guessing he meant Robocop?” 

“Maybe.”

“What an idiot,” she sighs, inspecting his bike closely “Not you, Park Seonghwa, the guy who sold you this. Key.” 

Key? Oh, right, the key. He tosses it to her and she catches it with expertise. 

“Well, thanks for clarifying that.” 

She laughs again, taking his helmet that's resting on the seat and putting it down on the floor as she straddles the bike “You're welcome,” she starts it, revs the engine a few times and then grimaces in a way that makes Seonghwa’s heart drop to his ass “Okay, Ghost, please tell me you have time to spare today.” 

“I actually don't,” he takes a few steps, worried frown on his face that prompts another sigh from her “I have a very, very important appointment in…” he checks his watch “In an hour that I really, really need to get to and— Is it that bad?” 

“No! No, not at all, I'm just better with cars than with bikes but, uhm… My brother is coming back in around fifteen minutes?” She offers and with the scowl on his face, she seems to backtrack “Listen, Park Seonghwa, why don't you leave your number with me and we can get this fixed by the end of the day. You can come by to pick it up or we can drop it to you early, tomorrow.” 

“Would you? Oh, my God,” he lets out another nervous laugh “That would be amazing, actually.” 

“Yeah, it's probably just the chain tensioner that needs an adjustment. Nothing's wrong with the engine as far as I can tell but that's why I want the guy who specializes in this type of thing to check it out.” 

“Your brother.” 

“Exactly,” she nods, turning it off and getting off as quickly and if Seonghwa was a little less concerned that he might've waisted his money on an expensive motorcycle, he would've noticed the proximity and the way she looks him over  with a curious glint on her eye “So, Park Seonghwa, what's your number?” 

She takes a step to the side and offers him her phone after unlocking it. He reacts to that. 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

He doesn't notice the big smile she offers him either. He doesn't have time. He enters the digits fast and checks over them two times before saving the contact information and returning the phone. 

Checking his watch once again, he curses under his breath and looks at his baby with desperation, begging, praying that he doesn't have to spend a fortune on it. 

“I really have to go.” 

“I can see that,” she returns his words from before, smiling and leaning to rest her weight on the hood of the car she tapped earlier “Good luck with your, uh…” she looks him over one more than and this time he notices it, blushing like a teenager for some reason because of it “Business meeting?” 

The crossbody bag he's wearing probably gave him away, huh? 

“Yeah, yes. Thank you so much for all your help… Ian?” He reads the nametag on her overall and immediately thinks it is an unconventional name for a girl, but doesn't add anything about it “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“I get it, you're grateful, now leave.” He catches on that she's pretending like his presence bothers her so he can hurry, which he's actually grateful for. 

It occurs to him that he could stare at her forever like an idiot if she didn't. 

“Okay, bye. Please tell me if I have to, uh, rob a bank or something to cover the cost.” 

She laughs again and it sounds pretty this time. 

What the fuck. 

“Sure,” she nods and he takes a few steps backwards until he's about to turn and then he hears her voice again, so he doesn't but he keeps walking “It's Y/N, by the way.” 

“Huh?” 

“My name is Y/N, Ian is my brother.” 

His heart beats loudly and he can't help but smile as wide as he possibly can “Ah, that makes more sense.”

“Goodbye, Park Seonghwa!” 

He finally turns and then screams back “Goodbye, Y/N!” as he's hurrying to raise his hand and call on a taxi who just passed the entrance like divine intervention, placed perfectly just for him. 

He misses the sudden blush on your cheeks because he's already in the cab by the time you reach the garage’s door to glance at the beautiful man one last time.

Seonghwa is right on time. With a few minutes to spare, actually. 

The building looks even more modernized than in pictures. He can even see some workers remodeling an office he passes on the way to the… third? Main desk he has to go to. 

It's a very big company and he can see the silicon valley aspect of it all once he notices the few different uniforms everyone is wearing. It seems like the building is one big, creative space and he likes it, but it does feel a little cold in a sense. 

“I'm looking for Mr. Kim? I have an appointment in… five minutes with him, I was sent from—”

“Room for More. Park Seonghwa is here.” The lady at the reception doesn't spare him a glance as she talks through her headset and he has to blink a few times, bowing briefly when she points towards the elevator to his right “Floor sixteen, the only big office on the floor.” 

“Thank you—” 

“Next!” 

Turning back, he sees there's some people lined up behind him and he quickly moves out of the way and towards the elevator that drops him, two minutes later, into the sixteenth floor. 

As he walks towards the big doors at the end of the hall, he feels so out of place his armpits start sweating even though it is a cold day and the heating is barely on. 

There's a few cubicles, glass separating them from the hall and, in consequence, forcing him to glance a few times out of curiosity. The uniforms and creativity that he saw downstairs is lost and all he can see is the nightmare he had once, when he thought he would end up working in a similar space: men in suits and women in pencil skirts typing away and printing reports he is never going to understand. 

Maybe that's why he's a bit surprised when he gets to Mr. Kim’s office and he's waiting by the door with a kind of ironed three piece suit and a few hairs out of place, toothy grin and open arms. 

“Mr. Park Seonghwa, thank you so much for taking the job!” 

He moves in to give him a brief hug he doesn't really get to reciprocate before he's moving away and into his office. 

“It's, um, a pleasure,” he stammers out, following him “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mr. Kim— Wow.” 

“I know, I know,” his client sighs as he takes a box and throws it to the side of his desk. The space is a mess and both of them grimace at the sound of something breaking inside the cardboard “This is why I recruited you. I tried to do something myself and ended up with… Whatever this is.” 

Looking around, Seonghwa is able to see what he means. The walls are mismatched and there's an unfinished design on the one to his left. Someone started painting a tree and gave up after sketching out a few branches. 

“And please call me Soohyun. Everyone here already calls me Mr. Kim and it makes me feel like my father,” he adds, sitting down on his desk chair and pointing to the one in front of it “That's my sister’s work. She tried to help me but broke one of her nails trying to get the cap off a painting tube so… She left me with this mess.” 

Seonghwa smiles, sitting down in front of him and getting his sketchbook out of his bag. Seemingly excited, his client rests his arms on the desk and grins at him, expectantly. 

He seems a little childish, not like the guy he studied earlier today. He looks younger than what he actually is like this, in a space that mimics what Seonghwa picks up like impatience and boredom, maybe the desire of breaking free of a corporate jail. 

Now, he understands why he contacted Room for More. 

“So, Soohyun… What do you want me to do for this space?” 

He spends the rest of the day in the middle of the mess, getting to know Soohyun’s vision and learning about the company as he helps to pile up the boxes laying around and drawing different ideas down. When he tries to talk about a possible budget, the man silences him and tells him not to worry about it. 

The pretty girl he met earlier crosses his mind one time, when Soohyun asks him if he can stay later than anticipated to give him an excuse to get out of what he says it's about to be a very boring and pointless meeting. 

Her image, your image makes him smile and he wonders, for a second, what the hell are you doing with his bike. 

And if he gets to see you again. 

Your brother comes back like a whole two hours later, so you're grateful you didn't push your new client to waste fifteen minutes of his, apparently, very busy day. 

“He said he got a great deal for it?” you nod “This one is not even that old, I'm sure they still make them!” 

You shrug and your brother sighs.

“Maybe he got scammed.” 

“I didn't ask but I think it started making that noise today because he seemed… alarmed,” you tell him and Christian pushes his hair back before taking the key out of your open palm “He didn't stay because he had a business appointment or something. He looked very laid-back, though, not rich at all, so don't you dare overcharge him for this.” 

“Oh, so you liked him.” 

Rolling your eyes, you turn to open the hood of the car you're supposed to be working on instead of giving away information he should've listened to if he didn't tend to walk out mid-shift “Yeah, we're actually getting married next week.” 

“Well, that means I can dispute getting the whole garage once dad goes away.” 

You let out a groan but you smile a little as you try and remember where you left off last night. 

“The only way he can go away is if he's dead, Christian,” you remind him “And he's going to outlive both of us.” 

“Of course he is.” 

You're not sure if your dad has a will at all. You're not his real children after all, so If he does you're not sure you're included either. 

It's not hard to tell you're adopted, but you've known Christian since before it was decided you two would share a family and even a last name. 

You grew up together, the adoption home treated both of you decently enough so you two never struggled as much but the children your age were a different story entirely. They used to tug at your hair and push you to the ground during group activities and the only one who was brave enough to make them stop was Christian.  

So, when your dad showed up at the adoption home and picked him out of the hundred children, he told him he didn't want to go anywhere without you. 

Sure enough, your dad took one look at your frightened little face, hiding behind Christian like a coward, and filled out the paperwork twenty minutes later. 

You remember gaping at the director, waiting for him to do something about this six feet tattooed guy in his late thirties wanting to take you both away from the only home you ever knew, but you're grateful the system didn't give two craps about children back in the day. 

Not that it gives a crap about them now, but at least they're a little more careful with just handing out kids like that. 

Because it could've gone terribly wrong. You were sure, at eight years old, your hand grasping the seatbelt on the back seat of your new dad’s car, that it was about to go terribly wrong. 

But he turned out to be nothing but a kind, hardworking (with an amazing credit score, no criminal record and steady income), widowed man who was looking to fulfill his late wife’s dreams of having a family and someone to leave their business to. 

After all, she was the one who built the shop from the ground up. You desperately needed to know more of her and your dad made sure to let you know how amazing she was in every aspect. 

She became someone you looked up to, even if you never really knew her, maybe that's why you ended up working at the shop as well. 

And yet, you still don't think it belongs to you. Ian is the one your dad wanted to begin with, you're just an added bonus. 

You're not sure you want it, either. 

But there's not much you know outside of it. Your time in school was great, no one bullied you anymore and the tough skin you developed out of nowhere cushioned the typical jokes that kids and teenagers are apparently programmed to make. 

You never made fun of anyone with ill intentions, so you're not sure how true that statement is. 

Either way, you kind of know where they were coming from. You weren't particularly exceptional at any subject but you never got in trouble for anything either, so you just kind of floated in everyone's orbit until you graduated, never belonging to any specific group of people or participating on any extracurriculars to help you maintain your barely there friendships after graduation. 

This shop is truly all you got. And the family that comes with it, of course.

Your dad coughing in the back and the sound reaching your ears even when the sound of Park Seonghwa's damaged motorcycle is right next to you, reminds you that the spending every second of your teenage years and early adult life learning all you could about how to fix a car was worth it. 

“Fucking chain tensioners.”

Smiling, you turn your head to your brother and he's already working on it “So it was the chain tensioner?” 

“Yeah,” he wipes the sweat off his forehead “it's always the fucking chain tensioner with these things.” 

You don't tell him you already knew that. 

“So you could get it fixed today?” 

“Yeah, yeah. He said he's coming back tonight?” 

“Oh, I kind of suggested dropping it off tomorrow so I'm not sure…”

“Y/N!” he scolds immediately and all you can give him in return is an innocent smile “I'm not dropping off shit tomorrow.” 

Turning back to the car, your smile grows into a cheeky one. 

“I never said you would do it.” 

He scoffs “If this is your way of flirting with people, I can see why you never got far with anyone befo— What the fuck?” 

Jaw slack, holding the greasy towel you sent flying into his direction a second ago, he throws it back and it lands by your feet. 

“Did I lie?” 

“Stop being an ass or the next thing I'm throwing your way are my bedazzled pliers.” 

Your dad’s voice behind you puts a stop into the petty and pointless bickering “Well, don't, I worked hard on those,” you smile at him and Ian all but sulks before returning to the task at hand “I expect you both to be done on whatever you're working tomorrow, by eight. We have dinner with the Lee’s.” 

Ah, dinner with your dad’s closest friends. Usual Tuesday shenanigans, of course, but it doesn't stop the nervous bubbling inside of you. 

You pray Deokhee can't make it (he rarely shows up) but you mutter out an okay in response even if you don't feel like going anyway. 

Nodding, he quickly looks over on what you're both doing before disappearing into the back of the shop again. You look down at your toolbox and find the bedazzled pliers your dad gave you as a part of your fourteen birthday gift with a tiny, grateful smile. 

The eternal loop of working in the same usual five, fixable problems on the cars that people drop off at the shop sets in afterwards. And, for the rest of the afternoon, you keep stealing glances at the Bonneville and wondering what type of man its owner is. 

You've always been drawn to pretty faces, even if it costed you your sanity only a few years back. Not that Christian or your dad or anyone else knew about it. 

The little secrets you keep give you some sense of identity, it sets you apart from the oil changes and calluses on your hands and they remind you of the brief aspirations you once had outside of all of this. 

When you dreamed of belonging to someone else and not just this family business, someone who you thought used to get you before he shattered your heart into a million pieces.

Deokhee thought cheating would not affect you.

Why? Oh, maybe because your edges were worn and rough and you've been through worse stuff before. 

What's worse that getting abandoned and picked out as an afterthought later in life?

Being abandoned and treated like an afterthought by the guy you wasted your teen years obsessing over, probably. 

Nothing breaks like a heart or whatever the song says. 

And, to his advantage, he knew you'd keep calm and collected and accepting of his ways because he never promised you the life you imagined for the both of you, even after giving yourself to him multiple times. 

Even after he told you how amazing you were. 

Even after he whispered how lucky he was to have you, hushed and hurried at the backdoor of his house that last time before he broke it off. 

Before he told you he found someone else. 

So you know wondering is a bad idea. You should not wonder about a client, at that. How unprofessional of you, how immature. 

But there was a spark this afternoon you never felt with anyone else. He was brave enough to joke around, even when you did try your best to intimidate him and lost tragically at one glimpse of his pretty smile. 

What's so wrong in indulging in a fantasy no one will ever know about? Heavens know you need one to keep you from smashing the wrench on the windshield of this old, ungrateful, misbehaving Chevrolet that's proving to be more difficult than any other car you've ever worked on before. 

It's only at ten after seven that you're allowed to think about Park Seonghwa without the guilt brought on by delusion. 

“There, fixed,” your brother says and, after starting the bike again, the noise is gone “Call your future husband and tell him to pick it up, I want to meet him.” 

Huffing, you reach for your phone and look at the recently added contact before shaking your head. 

Indulging in a fantasy it's fine, as long as you keep it to yourself. 

You get a chance to prove yourself wrong if you allow yourself to see him again. 

“Not a chance in hell.”

Couple of minutes pass and you fidget the whole time. You're hoping for a yes, so it can all die down tonight. Seonghwa’s lack of transportation and your fantasy included.

He doesn't respond the way you need him to. 

You hate that it makes you smile a bit. 

You glance at your brother and scrunch your nose in disapproval. Would it be nice to not go wherever he is and have time to actually get ready for dinner tomorrow? Yes. 

Do you want Christian to meet Seonghwa? No. That meeting would solidify everything else as a reality, it would pull you out of your little fantasy and you don't want that. 

You want to keep it (Seonghwa) to yourself for a while longer. 

You shouldn't be flirting, you really shouldn't. 

His flirting back puts you in a dangerous zone, a territory you desperately want to explore but can't. Shouldn't. 

Is it dumb of you to re-read the conversation at least eight times before going to bed? 

Probably. 

But you do anyway. 

When Seonghwa is finally walked downstairs by his new client, he's promised a meal by Hongjoong, only if he buys some beer on the way to his apartment. 

His roommates are apparently out and he didn't feel like going, although he didn't explain why. And when he gets there, Yeosang is also splayed out on the couch and with his laptop on his belly. 

“Hwa’s here!” 

“Oh, man, finally,” Hongjoong walks out of his room with wet hair and a towel around his neck “The takeout is getting cold. Come on!” 

He seems… Off. 

Seonghwa eyes Yeosang for an answer but the youngest just shrugs and sits straight on the couch as he closes his laptop. 

“Is everything alrig—” 

“I'll explain it to you when the time is right. Something's up with the band but it's nothing we can't fix.” 

“Okay…” Seonghwa sits down on the tiny table that somehow fits the three of them, the beers and the takeout with a tiny smile, knowing not to intervene until he's told to. 

Eating with his friends is like second nature to him. Everytime it happens, it's like a family dinner and everyone knows what to do and what to serve to everyone so, soon enough, they all have their chopsticks helping them get food into their mouths while they talk about their day. 

Seonghwa is nodding along, not sharing a lot because, well, work is work and he just tells them how excited he is for the new project and what he's planning on doing, he even shows them the mockups and drawings he spent the whole afternoon making, gaining supportive praise for it a second later. 

Yeosang looks up from his meal to him “So it's like a lot of little companies inside one company?” 

“Sort of,” Seonghwa smiles “I don't really get it, either, but that's okay. It doesn't seem like I have to get the concept of the company to plan this whole thing out, only what my client wants and that's… Very different from the company image.” 

He plans on saying something else but all train of thought gets interrupted when his phone dings right besides him. 

And he almost spills his beer on his pretty mockups trying to get to it fast enough. 

Only to end up disappointed, because it's not you but a discount notification from the food app he normally uses when he has the money to order in.  

It had to show up in his face, because what he hears next has the color draining from it “Oh?” 

Oh, God. 

It's like Wooyoung's spirit possessing Hongjoong, he sees it happen in real time and the wicked smile his friend sends in his direction is enough to know where it's all going. 

Yeosang sighs and eyes him with a tiny smile that says I'm on your side, but not really. 

“Hwa… The motorcycle, the looking at your phone waiting for something or someone… Are you seeing anyone?” 

“He obviously is!” 

“Yeosang! Stop feeding his delusions!” 

“So?” Hongjoong places his beer down, cocking his head to the side inquisitively and eyeing him up and down, like he can figure something out that way “Are you?” 

“No! I just… I met this girl today and—” 

“At the company?” 

“No! No, uh… My bike broke down and—” 

“Already?!” 

“Let him talk, hyung!” 

Letting out a sigh, Hongjoong sets hips lips into an straight line that makes Seonghwa huff out a chuckle of disbelief “Thanks, Yeo. Anyway, my bike had a weird sound this morning and I took it to a shop, so the girl who's… In charge?” he frowns a little, because he's still not sure “Of the shop sent me a text a while ago saying that it's fixed, I was just checking if she sent anything else.” 

“And you like her.”

It's more than that, really. He can't even explain it, the smile tugging at his lips a dead giveaway of the whirlwind going inside his head at the thought of you. 

“Ye— No! No, I don't even know her.” 

He shouldn't feel so flustered, really, but the things he felt while looking at you earlier were weird and confusing and he needs to think straight before he lets it consume him. 

It felt a little too freeing for his liking. 

Free from what? He's not really able to pinpoint it. But it looks like he's going to have to. 

The way his friends are staring at him like they know something he doesn't it's annoying, but telling. 

“Okay, maybe I do like her a little.” 

Yeosang hums “Like her, like her or just… You know.” 

“I'm not sure…” 

“Well, figure it out!” Hongjoong is excited, almost jumping in his chair at the prospect of Seonghwa getting with someone “You have her number, ask her to… Meet you somewhere or whatever people do when they like someone.” 

“Ask her on a date, hyung. That's what this idiot is trying to say.” 

“Hey!” 

Seonghwa closes his eyes because he can't believe his friends are entertaining the idea, feeding the growing feeling inside his chest “I just met her today, though.” 

“And?” Hongjoong bites a piece of meat and shrugs, dismissively “Timing is never off when you like someone. Do something about it because I swear if I have to hear anyone else complaining about not getting with the girl they like because of timing I'll—” 

“Wait, who complained?” 

The table falls quiet as Seonghwa looks between his friends to find an answer but Yeosang just shakes his head and he gets it.

Not the time to talk about it. 

Hongjoong points at him with his chopsticks, threatenly “Do. Something. About. It. Anyway!” He gets up from his seat, points at Yeosang this time “Guess who almost got kicked out of college for messing around with the wrong crowd today?” 

“That's not what happened!” 

And Seonghwa swears he's focusing on the story Hongjoong is so eager to tell, on Yeosang’s ears turning pink at the mention of a girl he's never heard before, too. 

But all he can think about is you. 

The next day, after briefly stopping by his office, Seonghwa is back with a few coworkers who help with measurements and put their input in the assessment. He spends all day with it, too and, once again, serves as an excuse for Soohyun to get out of some meetings he's not interested in attending. 

As the day passes, he wonders how Soohyun maintains the important position he's in. Nepotism can't do everything for you, right? 

Right? 

But his new client seems down to earth enough to be aware of his advantages in an industry that's quick and cruel and doesn't hold too much space for laziness. 

So he lets it go because, well, he tends to judge but he can't really do much for people who actually deserve to be in charge. 

It's close to seven and Soohyun bidded him goodbye only a few minutes ago, saying sorry he can't walk him out because, at this time, he actually has an international call to make that can't be excused like the rest of his afternoon schedule. 

Seonghwa doesn't make it out of the office before getting stopped by a manicured hand to his chest. 

After the texts last night and Hongjoong's threats, he was practically ready to sprint downstairs to meet you (or whoever you sent) and get his bike back, maybe apologize for panicking and sending a whole ass sticker as a response instead of keeping the conversation going. 

And to see you again. God, he wants to break his Bonneville one more time just to get to see your pretty face again. 

He already idealized you in his head, which is bad and very amateur on his side, but no one needs to know that. 

But now he might have to keep all of that waiting for a few more minutes because there's someone staring at him like just committed a crime. A crime he's unaware of. 

“Who are you?” 

Her scowl tells him she's trying to get a read on him and he thinks he's transparent enough for it to be easy. If he really thinks about it, though, it looks like she wants to scare him a little bit. 

It doesn't work. 

“Um, Park Seonghwa,” he says and then points over his shoulder, to Soohyun’s office “I’m working on renovating Mr. Kim’s office?” 

“Oh, for fucks sake. Why can't no one in this family keep normal people around?” She peeks through his shoulder, the high heels she's wearing helping her with the task. Groaning, she turns around and starts heading for the elevator, mumbling something under her breath. 

The only thing he can make out of it it's something about supermodels and a it's not fair. 

She turns around briefly to look at him again and scoffs, clearly annoyed. 

“I feel like I know your face from somewhere else.” 

Seonghwa feels a little lost, but steps into the elevator when she does. Now he's afraid, maybe she's a crazy person but then it clicks. 

Clearly, he knows her from somewhere else too. 

“I'm sure the only place I've seen you before is on the news, Miss Kim,” he replies with a sheepish smile, shrugging a bit and hitting the main floor button on the panel “That's a nice tree, by the way.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“The one on Mr. Kim’s office?” he offers, turning to her “He told me his sister painted it and as far as I know, he only has one sister.” 

That brings a smile to her face and Seonghwa counts it as a small victory, for some reason. 

“Ah, so you did your research,” she nods “Please scrape it off the wall if needed. It made me bleed.” 

“He omitted that part.” 

“Of course he did, it was his fault. Anyway,” she shakes her head, stepping out of the elevator and walking ahead without waiting for him. She looks like the type of person who knows everyone else will follow and he does, but only out of curiosity “my brother has your number, yes, Mr. Park?” 

“I'm assuming he does or, at least, my company's numb—” 

“I'm not interested in your company, I'm interested in you.” 

She's also very forward. How could he not guess that from the way she carries herself around? 

“I don't usually do freelance work, Miss Kim.” 

As they both reach the main entrance, she turns around gracefully and with a, for what he can tell, very rehearsed smile tugging at her lips. 

“I'm not interested in your work either, Mr. Park.” 

That, he did guess, but it's disappointing either way. 

“Then what good am I to you?” 

Her grin widens “You'll see.” 

The sound of his Bonneville pulling up it's what gets him to turn away from the mischievous glint in the chaebol's eyes. 

And when he sees you take off a helmet that's not his and wave your hand at him, she blends into the background completely. 

You look good, hair down and probably freshly showered because there's a few droplets falling down from the ends of it to your shirt and leather jacket. Your hands are gloved up and all, like you've been riding bikes your whole life. 

He wonders if that's the case. God, he wants to get to know you so bad. 

“Oh God, not another one, I— Is she your girlfriend, Mr. Park?” 

His head snaps back, eyes wide and cheeks turning pink “N-no, I just met her yesterday, she… That's my bike, I had to get it fixed.” 

Pulling her bottom lip in with her teeth for a second, she nods and then takes two long strides into the direction of a car he didn't see until now “Perfect, then. She looks pretty cool,” she waves at you and he doesn't get to see if you wave back, too focused on getting the color out of his cheeks “Tell her I said that. Goodbye for now, Mr. Park.” 

Seonghwa wants to ask a million questions. What does she want? What does she mean goodbye for now? But he doesn't get to. She gets into the car and drives off and that leaves space for you to drive his bike again and pull up right in front of him this time. 

“Hope I didn't interrupt anything there, Ghost.”

A nervous chuckle abandons him and he manages to shake his head “No, no, she's… my client’s sister?” He offers and you smile, turning off the bike and getting off a second later “She said you're, um, cool.”

“And why would she say that?” 

“Because you look cool? I don't really know, don't question me,” he's sure the efforts he put on making the blush disappear were pointless, cheeks burning when you laugh at him “Thank you, Y/N.” 

“Don't thank me, Seonghwa, I didn't tell you how much it'll cost you yet.” 

He gulps. 

You take mercy on him and the way his eyes glisten with worry, laughing again “It's not too bad. It was the chain tensioner and my brother worked on it pretty fast, don't worry.” 

Relaxing, he takes his helmet and key off your offering hands with a tiny smile, touch lingering on your skin for a second too long “Did you enjoy seeing me suffer just now?” 

“A little bit,” you shrug and mutter your apologies although he can tell you're not sorry at all “I'll text you the invoice with the account you can send the money to?” 

No. 

He wants to say no and make you go with him to an ATM so he can pay in cash just to keep you around for a while longer, he doesn't want this interaction to be over. 

And he's usually very good at communicating things of this nature but something about you makes him giddy and nervous and his charisma is not able to keep up. 

It dawns on him that it's very weird to want to keep a stranger, someone he only met a day ago, in his life for as long as possible. 

Do you feel the same way? He wants you to feel the same way.

The unexpected desire sits on his chest heavily, making him take in a breath more shakily than he intended to. 

“Sure,” the words taste bitter on his tongue, his tone gives away that he doesn't really mean it and then said desire takes over, making him stammer the next words out “Do you want me to take you somewhere?” 

Surprised, you blink a few times and then look down at your own helmet for a second. He feels like he screwed up by asking you that. 

Of course, you don't feel the same way. Of course, you must have someone waiting for you already. 

Of course, of course, of fucking course. 

But just before he can backpedal on his offer, you're looking up, your mind made up and the same teasing smile you've been wearing ever since he saw you yesterday “It won't save you from the debt I'm about to put you through with that invoice but sure.” 

Seonghwa lets out a huff and chuckle all in the same breath, straddling his bike a second later “Ha, ha. Count it as a tip, Y/N.”

“Oh, I'm so telling my brother that,” you beam when he returns the joke and he moves a little, making space for you at the back “Somehow, I don't feel safe with you riding this bike, Ghost.” 

He ignites it and the whole thing shakes a bit before you can even put on the helmet, so he can't really refute that. 

“Do you want to ride it?” 

It's a second too late when he realizes the double meaning behind his own words, unintended, but there they are floating on the air around you both, electric and maybe one sided. 

But you don't back down, taking a step into his space and crowding him, almost towering over him even if he's on the bike and even if that makes him taller than you. It feels that way, so he welcomes the sensation and the pang of his heart against his chest when you lean in just a little. 

“Do you want me to ride it?” 

Breath caught in his throat, Seonghwa takes in your smirk as a sign that, maybe, it's not one sided at all. 

“The bike,” you clarify a second later, like it's necessary “It would be easier to get us to where I need to go, anyways.” 

Planting his feet on the ground, he keeps the Bonneville stable enough to slide back to the space he created for you a minute ago, and if you can feel his heart beating with an unfamiliar, yet exciting song when you take a seat, put your helmet on and press your back against his chest, you sure cover it up when you turn to look at him. 

“Does your fancy job provide you health insurance?” 

He lets out an amused huff “Yours doesn't?” 

“I never asked,” you shrug, taking the handles and looking forward again, leaning in slightly so now he's not that close to you but he feels you everywhere still “Just making sure in case I break you.” 

When you start driving him, handling the Bonneville in a way he never would even with the years of experience ahead of him, he wants to tell you that he wouldn't mind that. 

In fact, he finds himself wanting it. 

As he holds tight to your waist, he finds himself on the verge of telling you to break him apart piece by piece so he can do the same with you. Explore you, not physically, but in the way it truly matters. 

He wants to know your soul, he wants to understand the reason he feels attached to you after a brief meeting and little more. 

You lean back to rest your back a little at a stop sign and he suddenly doesn't care if the way he squishes your waist for a few seconds gives his intentions away. He has your number, he's going to make a move eventually. 

What he does care about is the way you don't tense up and just lean into his body a little more before resuming the task of getting both of you wherever you're going

This? The way he feels so free as you move through the highway, make your way in between the cars at stop signs and the wind hitting his arms? This is the grasp at his youth he's been waiting for. Even if it's just for the night. 

Even if it's over too soon for his liking. 

You stop in front of a house that looks empty. He wonders if it's yours for a second, but then again he's going to find out any minute soon. 

“That wasn't too bad, was it?” 

Getting down from his Bonneville, you take your helmet off and offer him your hand. He slides up his helmet so you can see his face, about to reply, but you beat him to it “Thank you so much for the ride that I technically gave myself, Park Seonghwa, it was a pleasure to meet you.” 

Why are you saying goodbye like you're not planning on seeing him ever again? 

Suddenly, he's planning on ways to mess up his bike again just to get an excuse to see you again. 

No. 

He has to be braver than that. 

Taking your hand, he pulls you in a little bit and you let out a surprised noise that looks like it embarrasses you. 

Your cheeks turn red under the streetlight and he thinks you look beautiful like that. 

“Y/N,” he starts in a whisper, gathering his courage up “Would you like to—” 

“Y/N.” A voice interrupts him and your eyes widen in panic while you look at him, slowly turning your head to the person as he does the same. 

Not before he notices how the pretty blush and all colors drain from your face. 

A guy, with blonde shaggy hair and tattoos covering his neck and hands is standing on the sidewalk with a grocery store bag and a weird look on his face. Beside him, a girl who’s smile fades away when she seems to recognize you scoffs. 

The guy smiles and Seonghwa wonders why you don't say anything back, your grasp on his hand tightening before letting go. 

“There you are, your dad said—” 

“Ghost?” 

Seonghwa doesn't like the way your voice shakes when you say the nickname he's grown used to in such a short amount of time. 

“Yes?” 

You don't bother putting the helmet back on, simply dropping it to the ground and turning back at him “I trust you to ride this bike now, yeah?” 

He doesn't have to be told twice. Making space for you again, you hop on and hug his waste. He slides his helmet back on. 

The guy takes a few steps but Seonghwa stops him with the sound of him revving his Bonneville “Come on, Y/N…” Is what he says when he starts to drive off, accelerating just a little bit before the houses start fading and the busy highway welcomes you both. 

Deokhee has some nerve. 

The fact that he does boils your bloodstream and you wish you could say that the warm sensation spreading through your body is caused by the guy who you're currently holding to. 

Seonghwa has checked in with you once and, after confirming you were okay to keep going, he has held your gloved hands at every red light and stop sign. 

You have no idea where you're going, but you're sure you can't go home and deal with this alone for now. He can't take you home, either (he doesn't know the address) but even if he could, you wouldn't let him. 

The nameless girl that was with Deokhee is the same girl he cheated with. A girl who, by judging her expression, probably knew about you. 

Mind going as fast as the Boneville, you ask yourself how many times she made fun of you for grasping a fantasy, a make-believe story with her now boyfriend. 

What did you lack that she obviously has? What prompted him to hurt you this badly? 

Is he stupid enough to not realize that the sight of them together would tear you apart all over again? 

The scene replays in your head again, after all these years of trying to get over it: Him, holding your hand and telling you how amazing you were to him but that, in all honesty, he didn't see himself going out with someone like you. 

You were too much, too proud, too loud. 

Which doesn't make any fucking sense because although you never held back a jab or a sarcastic comment if needed, you knew the time and place to speak your mind. 

It also didn't make any fucking sense because he knew you would keep his little secret from your father and your brother and, in consequence, keep the relationship you both had and the cowardly way it ended from his family as well. 

You were too much, composed of many flaws and adorned with rough and burnt edges, but you would never in a million years tarnish the happiness of the people who love you because of a rookie mistake. 

Falling in love with Deokhee was a rookie, horrible mistake. 

Falling in love in general? You doubt it. 

Because the way Seonghwa takes his time to slow down the bike on a lookout you were too distracted to notice you were climbing up to, pulls it to a full stop and then immediately reaches for your hands again, makes you believe there's good people out there after all. 

He took you away without asking any questions and you're suddenly welcomed with the same grateful feeling you have towards your family. 

Had you stayed there, you're not so sure you would've kept your words to yourself anymore. Your pain, your anger. 

Getting down from the bike, Seonghwa takes his helmet off and drops it in front of you, on the seat, before leaning in a searching for your glossy eyes. 

You can see him hesitate through the fog your tears form and you don't let them drop just yet. You're angry, but there's no way you would let Deokhee make you cry again in this lifetime. 

You should get down from the bike, but it doesn't move under your weight even if you readjust your position on the seat and you fear that, if you do, you would only plop down into the ground and let it swallow you whole. 

You should say something, too. Thank him, probably, but the tall man lets out a breath before opening his arms and pointing at the view. Gladly, you take the opportunity to take in your surroundings and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Didn't know where else to take you, so I brought you to my breaking point.” 

“Hm?” frowning a bit, you peel your eyes from the city lights to him “Your breaking point?”

“Yeah, that's what I call it,” he smiles and you do too, halfheartedly “Here's where I come to break down and let everything out. There's a playground back there too,” he points behind him and you scoff, amused “If you want to climb up somewhere and scream. The neighbors don't mind it.” 

“I take that as a I've done it before.” 

“Once or twice,” he shrugs “It's good for the soul.” 

“God,” you cover your face with your hands “I'm so embarrassed you had to see me like that.” 

“Like what? You didn't do anything.” 

“Running away and acting all weak in front of…” you fake gag, but it's kind of real “Some guy.” 

A bit of silence passes in between you and your savior. 

And then Seonghwa laughs so hard you're forced to uncover your face and stare at him in disbelief “I'm serious! That's like… top one most embarrassing thing I've ever done.” 

His laugh comes to a stop and he doesn't step closer even if you want him to, just puts his hands in the pockets of his pants and looks at you for what it feels like forever. 

You don't mind it one bit. 

“I've known you for a day, Y/N, but even I can tell that's not the most embarrassing thing you've done.” 

Sulking, you turn to the beautiful view one more time and pout like a child. You want to tell him he's right, but your pride doesn't really allow it just yet. 

It's quiet for a minute or two. You move around, throw your leg over the Boneville and sit on top of it as you stare at the city. You feel Seonghwa move around, pace behind you until he finally reaches around takes a few steps before stopping on the railing separating the street from the hill. 

He's looking in your direction instead of the view. You realize he's giving you space to sulk, to take in everything without pestering you with questions about why the hell you both just bolted instead of facing the situation. 

Your gratitude towards him rises a bit more. 

So your word vomit is justified, you think, because you don't want to leave him in the dark any longer. 

The fantasy you indulged yourself in earlier might just grow into a reality you have to embrace, a reality you want to embrace. 

“He's my ex-something and the girl he was with is the one he chose over me. I was supposed to have dinner with them— Well, no, not really,” you sigh, looking at Seonghwa who, in the deem light, just nods and waits for you to continue “He's my dad’s best friend's son and we have dinner with them every Tuesday. Their family, I mean. Deokhee… He never shows up,” you shrug “And when he does, he's alone and it's towards the end of it all so I never get to see him that long. But this?” you shake your head, disappointment written all over your face “I never thought he would do this to me.”

Finally getting off the bike, you walk slowly towards the railing as well and feel Seonghwa's eyes follow you as you do “He cheated on me with her, for Christ sake.” You whisper once the metal of the railing stops your step. 

“How long ago?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“No,” from the corner of your eye, you see how he shakes his head and leans in slightly “I'm wondering because if I was your dad or your brother or your friend, I would've done something to, at least, ensure something like this never happens to you.” 

“Yeah, about that…” A bitter chuckle abandons you and you shrug one more time “They don't really know what happened between us— They don't know something happened in the first place,” ashamed, once again, you turn to him “He asked me to not tell anyone when we started… Ack, whatever, it doesn't really matter.” 

“It does if it's affecting you,” he insists “It does if you go pale at the sight of him, Y/N. Did he do—” 

“No,” you cut him off, the corners of your lips lifting a bit “He didn't do anything weird besides breaking my heart.” 

“Good.” 

“I would've killed him if he did, by the way.” 

“As you should,” he returns right away and finally, for the first time in the twenty minutes it took both of you to get there, you laugh sincerely. That prompts a smile on his lips “Good to know he's an idiot but not that type of idiot.” 

Huffing, you turn to the city before you again “The only idiot in this situation is me.” 

“For loving someone? Y/N,” his hand reaches your shoulder and you close your eyes in defeat, surrendering your heart to the weird emotion it brings you “He cheated on you. He's the idiot, the dumbass, the—” 

Laughing again, his rant comes to an end and you open your eyes to find him staring at you in delight “Park Seonghwa,” you start, putting a hand over his on your shoulder “You, sir, don't know me.” 

The reminder does nothing to stop him from looking at you with stars in his eyes “I'm a great judge of character, Y/N.” 

“And if you're wrong?” 

“Then let me be wrong,” he shortens the distance a bit, the warmth on your shoulder leaving as he lowers both of your hands, not letting go “But let me get to know you first.” 

The emotion grows bigger, it swirls around your heart and spreads around your body in a way you never felt. It feels good and you hate to compare it to what you felt for Deokhee but where it once was filled with regrets and doubts and a need to hold on tight to whatever that guy made you feel now sits something that you can only describe as excitement and thrill. 

Peaceful, too. 

It steals your breath in a beautiful way. 

Squeezing his hand a little, you inhale slowly and let go of the air when you speak “I don't really do dates, Ghost.” 

“I didn't ask you on a date,” he counters immediately and your cheeks darken “I asked if I could get to know you. We don't have to go on dates, talking to you is enough.” 

“O-oh, I… I thought—” 

He seems to get it right away because he takes another step, your arm pressed to his by now, your hands still tangled in the middle “I one hundred percent meant it that way,” he assures you, chuckling a bit “But I don't really do dates either. Asking you out to a restaurant or a movie or whatever it is people do on dates doesn't really suit me.” 

“How so?” 

“There's this… Weird intention laced into it, into the prospect of a date that I don't particularly enjoy. I want to get to know people and see where it takes us without pressuring ourselves into anything romantic or sexual.” Your heart picks up at that. Not at the image it paints, but at his explanation as a whole. 

It shows he might be interested in you beyond something physical and it's a beautiful thing to note when, all your life, you have felt like people only wanted you for one thing and one thing only. 

You intend to tell him just that but the way he's looking at you makes you forget everything else. Brown eyes scan every inch of your face and stop at your lips for a second. 

Now your heart beats for a different reason. 

“No matter… How bad I want to kiss you, though.” 

Words fall short. They do when for the first time in a long time you entertain the possibility of letting yourself want to kiss someone else, too. 

Leaning in and straightening your back fully to give you the possibility of almost standing face to face with him, you silently communicate your desire. 

It's not enough. He's too respectful. 

Fuck, you like him a lot already. 

“If you want to kiss me then just kiss me…” you whisper, teasing smile in full display “Dummy.” 

He fakes a gasp at your jab as he leans in, his pretty nose bumping into yours for a second and making you giggle, part your lips and close your eyes while buzzing with expectation. 

The sky has other plans, though. It roars above you and you both look up. 

It's been cloudy, a couple of days of unusual humidity throwing off everyone but you guess the steam gathered up in the clouds just in time to knock some sense of reality into you. 

Or pushing you further into the craziness of this one day alone. 

Seonghwa groans a little and then a phone starts ringing in someone's pocket. 

Not yours, you made sure to hit the not disturb button as soon as you got ahold of it. 

You should probably tell your brother you're okay. 

But Seonghwa is still close to you, his lips a breath away from yours, so you put it aside when he shows no intention of picking up his call either. 

The tension builds up again, both of you ignoring the thunderstorm approaching and everything else. 

There's many things from today you're not going to be able to explain any time soon, the magnetic pull Seonghwa had on you the first time you laid eyes on him is one of them, the freedom you touch with your fingertips when your mind is finally off your duty, off your family… 

It's so dangerous you quickly become addicted to the recklessness of it all. 

And then his phone starts ringing again, so you welcome the reality that washes over you with a sour face and pout on your lips. 

“The universe must be against us being a thing, huh?” You whisper and he clicks his tongue in disapproval, resting his forehead on yours for a second before pulling away completely, pulling out his phone from his pocket. 

“I don't think the universe has much to do with this one, dear,” he frowns and misses the way you flush at the sudden nickname. You swear on your life, normally you would be pretty disgusted at the endearment. Now? You want him to call you that again “I should take this and we should probably go somewhere else. There's not much to cover us up if it starts raining.” 

“Sure, uh…” You fish your phone from your pocket as well, grimacing when you look at the missed calls and texts “I have to make a call, too.” 

He seems to understand immediately “Go right ahead.” 

Putting even more distance in between both of you, you faintly hear a what's going on from Seonghwa and then tap your screen to return your brother's call. 

He picks up right away. 

“Are you okay?!” 

His tone forces your eyes closed. Rushed, you picture him in the backyard with a cigarette in between his fingers, trying to get ahold of himself without worrying everyone else too much “Yeah, I'm okay. I'm with a friend and—” 

“Then why don't you pick up the fucking phone?!” 

“Calm down,” taking in a breath and letting it out, you hear him do the same before continuing “Is there a way I can explain all of this to you tomorrow? I'm fine, Deokhee is a dick and I don't ever want to see him so I ran away like a—” 

“What did he do?” 

“No, nothing now, it's just… Listen, I'll explain tomorrow, alright? I'm staying with my friend tonight and everything will make sense tomorrow. It's really dumb, like… Teenage drama dumb,” you sigh, hoping that the minimal information you're giving him can help him figure it out “Just tell dad that I'm fine and if he asks I'm with a friend who is a girl and she's staying over at my place because there was a… Boy emergency or whatever.” 

“Are you with—” what seems to click is something else and your brother gasps “Y/N!” 

“Can you help out this time?”

The silence on the line seems to extend forever and guilt licks your throat, giving you the feeling that it's about to close up. 

You want to grasp what you felt a minute ago again, the freedom of this, of doing too much, of unnecessarily putting Christian through it because he already did so much for you growing up. 

Just tonight, at least, you owe yourself the feeling of not proving your place in your own family. 

But the silence hurts and you wonder if you could ever, truly, be free from it. 

“You owe me an explanation. Take care and text me goodnight at least, yeah?” 

“Okay,” you whisper back “Thank you, Ian.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, kid.” 

His words fill your eyes with tears again and you don't get to reciprocate them before he hangs up. You know he knows, but it still hurts when you remember how unlovable you felt before you met him as a child.

It hurts when you remember that you allowed Deokhee to make that feeling return. 

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. 

And the more it hurts, the more the sky rumbles and you fear that, if you break down here and now, it would not only embarrass you in front of Seonghwa but also strand him on this hill with you. 

It doesn't matter that he calls this his breaking point, it's not yours to use. 

So again, your tears stay at bay and when you turn around you catch Seonghwa looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

He wants to hug you, his body language gives him away as soon as he steps closer to you but a storm is about to soak through your clothes any second, so you pass him and grab his hand to pull him to his bike in the process. 

When his fingers intertwine with yours, you know he understands. He doesn't make any questions, he doesn't press any information out of you and just allows you to climb his motorcycle. 

“We need to leave.” 

“Where do you want to go?” he asks, getting on the bike as well and goes in for his helmet but your words stop him. 

“Do you want to stay the night with me?” 

Turning his head, he blinks at you a few times and you smile a little before the curve fades away. 

“I have my own place, we can order something in and just talk. Seonghwa, you…” biting the inside of your cheek, you try to approach this the right way “I don't expect this to go anywhere but can't you… Do you feel it too?” 

He stays silent and you fear you might've taken it too far. But it doesn't really matter. Willing to take the risk, you take his hand on yours again and hold it close to your heart. 

The sky roars again in response. 

And you catch when his breath hitches because of it, too. 

“Do you feel it, Seonghwa?” 

A bit passes and then some, his eyes searching for something in yours and then dropping to where your heart beats again.

“What's your address?”

It's already raining by the time you both get into your building’s garage and park his Bonneville. 

The entire ride was a bit long. It had you resting your head on his back while his fingers tapped against yours with impatience. 

But when you make it to the safe space that is the elevator, clothes showing the evidence of the droplets falling from the sky and all, you finally get to breathe. 

Until Seonghwa steals that breath away again. 

He stares at you through the mirror, steps closer until he can take your face with his hands and swipes under your eyes where the makeup has run a little. 

“Ghost…” 

‘I didn't answer before,” he murmurs and wet his lips with his tongue. You can't help but stare at them, the moment somehow more intimate now, under the fluorescent glow of the elevator, than with the city lights and lighting above you “But I do feel it. I stand on what I said before, though.” 

“No dating?” 

He chuckles “No, not that,” shaking his head, he steps away when the elevator gets to your floor “I want to get to know you either way.” 

“Ah. That,” you feel silly for assuming he didn't want to date you, but given your history you're not sure you can blame yourself too much “Well, you're about to see my cave, so we're both halfway there.” 

As soon as you open the door and turn on the light, you can see in his face that he sees what you mean. 

It's a one bedroom apartment that doesn't leave too much to the imagination. Your bedroom’s door is opened, the bathroom door is closed and the kitchen is an American style one that's separated from the living space by a small counter you can barely fit your mail on. 

There's a lot of old furniture that you remodeled, painted over the cracks and stuffed where you needed the most. Your fridge is also old, the couch is somehow the only modern looking item in the living room and it stands out a bit because its material is not as worn out as everything else. 

There's posters on the walls, unframed and placed randomly because, here, you don't have to be put together. The only people who come over are your brother and your dad, so it's okay. 

It's not even an old building, but your apartment makes it look like one. 

“Hope you don't mind the mess, Grandpa.” 

“Oh, I'm not Ghost anymore?” He asks with a breathy laugh, taking his shoes off as you place yours by the entrance and shrugging his jacket off too “It's not messy, it's… Kind of like the shop, really.” 

Mirroring his actions, you take off the leather jacket and welcome the warmth of your apartment “Greasy?” 

“Cool,” he corrects and you walk through your space picking up a few things from the floor and putting them by the living room table “Is it yours, by the way?” 

“The shop?” he nods and you walk to your fridge to fetch you both some water bottles “It's my dads. Why do you ask?” 

“You seemed to own the place, with the way you walked around it,” shrugging, he takes a seat on your couch as he takes in the space “I just wondered…” 

Walking in front of him on purpose, because you could've easily rounded the table and sat at the opposite edge of the couch, you sit right beside him and offer him a water bottle that he takes with a whispered thanks “You wondered…” 

“A lot of stuff, actually,” he admits and you smile “Like your age, for example. Your last name, how did you end up working as a mechanic, if you were studying something, if you…” he pauses and turns to the side, resting his shoulder on the couch “If you liked me the way I liked you.” 

Choking on the water you're gulping down, it's very evident you didn't think he was about to go down that lane again. 

So directly, too. 

He laughs, leaning in and wiping your chin with a familiarity that has you even more breathless than his confession. No, scratch that, it's all of it. All of him. 

“Don't make me get on that bike again tonight, dear.” 

That goddamn endearment again. You might risk it all and kiss him, chin wet and all. 

“Whatever for?”

“You clearly almost choked to death,” he exaggerates, probably an excuse to stay that close to you longer than he needs to “And it was my fault, too.” 

Smiling and shaking your head, you push him a bit until he falls back into his previous position, smugness tugging at his lips in a way that has your insides jolting up with excitement “I do like you, Ghost.” 

“I know that now, but earlier I did wonder.” 

“Wondering is such a dangerous thing, isn't it?” 

His smile settles with a softness that melts you, your hand back in his with ease “Not necessarily.”

Squeezing his hand in unspoken agreement, you nod and then try to remember the topic of conversation before… Well, before he distracted you. 

“Well, you were kind of right with your assumptions then. It's not my shop, but I grew up in it,” you shrug, letting go of his hand to grab your phone “We should probably wait to order something.” 

“Yeah, until the monsoon dies down,” he says, looking outside your window that does little to conceal the thunderstorm outside “You grew up fixing bikes?” 

“Cars,” you correct with a nod, connecting your phone to the speaker that lies under your tv “Is my day to day playlist alright?” 

“Yup,” he crosses his legs on the couch and you see from the corner of your eye how his follow your actions, heat rushing to your cheeks at how attentive he is “Did you always want to be a mechanic?” 

The question takes you by surprise, but you cover it up as you set the volume to the perfect percentage to let you two have a proper conversation without raising your voices “Kind of. It's all I'm good at, really,” you shrug “Also, my dad’s wife looked very cool in pictures growing up and I wanted to be just like her, so.”

“Your mom?” you shake your head and he frowns “Your stepmom?” 

“No, uh…” clearing your throat, you get ready to reveal a piece of you that you rarely share with other people, even if it's obvious to everyone else “I'm adopted. Me and my brother we, mmm, we used to live in this sort of… Group house, I guess, and dad just picked us one day,” word vomiting again, once that you open the dam you don't know how to stop “I mean, he's not… We're not blood related, either, he just brought me along like when you adopt a dog at a shelter and they give you their favorite blanket, you know?” 

Seonghwa is full on frowning at that and you think that, for the sake of just agreeing with you, he's going to nod and let it go, but he doesn't “I don't think you're just something your brother brought along with him. Adopting two kids is a big decision, isn't it?” 

Reluctantly, you nod. 

“Well, there you go.” 

“I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him, though,” you shrug and sip on your water bottle again, gulping the liquid to send that lump on your throat down “But it doesn't really matter because it was a long time ago and now they're both stuck with me.” 

He shakes his head but laughs a little at your sudden shift and, this time, he does let it go. 

But you don't. 

“Thank you, by the way.” 

He smiles, a little confused “For what?” 

“Helping me when I needed you to. We don't really know each other and yet…” 

“It feels like I know you, though.” 

Sharing the sentiment, you nod “I know, it's weird but, uhm… You didn't need to do what you did for me tonight. You even took me to your breaking point!” you let out a puff of air, making it a bigger deal than what it sounds. It's a bigger deal for you, anyway “And then drove me all the way here. That's a lot.” 

“It's not much. It was my fault, really,” he shrugs and shakes his head at the confused look you give him “I kind of… Asked the universe for an excuse to stay with you, so…” 

“Ah, so it was your fault Deokhee showed up,” the lighthearted joke lands the way you intended because he laughs with a sound so beautiful it makes your heart pick up “Got it.” 

“Do you feel better? I mean, after seeing him, are you feeling better?” 

“Not really, it sucks,” you say with a bitter laugh “But I hold grudges like that. It's not…” you raise your hands in self defense suddenly ���I don't want him like that anymore, it's just that I can't help but…”  

“I understand,” he whispers and you let out a sigh again, grateful that he interrupted your rambling “People believe that forgive and forget is the way to go when you're resenting someone but human beings don't really work like that, hm?” 

“Yeah…” 

Staring at him, that weird emotion that you felt at the top of the hill comes back. That dangerous warmth that makes you want to take his hand in yours and place your lips at the back of it with a familiarity you haven't really earned yet. 

So when you catch him staring at you the same way, you change the subject. 

“What do you do?” eyebrow raising, you eye him suspiciously and that makes him giggle “Meetings all day, past normal shift hours…”

“I renovate spaces, Y/N,” he laughs again “You made it sound like I work with the mafia.” 

“Do you?” 

“No. I have a buddy that does, though.” 

“Oh, so I was kind of right then?” 

“Yeah, yeah…” you both laugh again and then he looks around your living space like he did when you two first got in “You were right about the whole getting to know you just by looking at your apartment.” 

“I know, it says a lot about a person.” 

“It does!” He's excited now, sitting straighter and turning ever so slightly, your knees bumping now “There's only a few people that I trust who have those… Beige, white and black houses or apartments and that's only because I got to know them before I saw where they live.” 

“So, you have rich friends?” 

He stops and thinks for a second “Yeah, they all have a lot of money. I mean, the people I'm talking about, not my friends,” you raise your eyebrow again and he chuckles “Alright, I only have one rich friend. The rest of them are broke musicians and college students. He was actually the one who called earlier and, uhm…” 

“Interrupted us?” You offer, smiling. 

His cheeks gain a little color, maybe from the memory “Y-yeah.” 

“Everything's okay?” 

“Yes! Yeah, he wanted me to go pick him up from something but I told him I couldn't because, well—” 

“You were with me.” 

“Mhm,” you see him gulp and the mood shifts a little bit again. His face falls down as he eyes your parted lips, leaning in again ever so slightly, like he's not really thinking it through “Couldn't leave you stranded and he has a chauffeur.” 

Unconsciously, you start leaning in a bit too.

“Do you like it?” 

“Yes… D-do I like what?”

You chuckle and he breathes out a laugh, too “Renovating spaces…” 

Pressing his hands into the fabric on the couch, at your sides, he invades your space a little more now “I do… Do you like fixing cars?” 

Nodding, your nose is a whisper away from his now “I do…” 

He breathes and it lands right on your mouth, making you pant as well. 

“That's good.” 

“Mhm.” 

Eyes closing, your lips tremble a little as you wait for him to close the distance. 

“You're so fucking pretty—” 

You close the distance instead, pressing your mouth into his and letting the tension deflate your posture because you're finally tasting him. 

Your little fantasy is not a fantasy anymore. 

And it feels so fucking good. It feels good to have someone you desire, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, reciprocate your emotions and pull you closer to make acquaintance with your taste as well. 

Seonghwa makes a noise you want to engrave into your brain the second you grab his shirt and pull him to you as well. And then you move. 

The couch is stuffy, your bed is a mess and the cold from the thunderstorm makes its way to your living room even if you feel your entire body lit up from the swipe of his tongue against yours. 

So you stand up. 

You give him a teasing smile when his mouth chases after yours once you pull away “Where are you going?” 

“Another thing you should know about me,” you start, breathy, your thumb swiping your bottom lip on instinct and his eyes follow the motions “Is that I have very noisy neighbors. The woman in that apartment over there,” you point at the window right in front of yours, the building separated by the street but still close enough to tell everything that goes inside your neighbors apartment if you wanted to “Once made a complaint against me because I walked out in my underwear one time.” 

“Is she blind or bitter or something?” he asks, amused by your sudden storytelling, chest heaving as you pull your curtains closed “Or both?” 

“She's old,” you tell him, turning around “And you haven't seen me in my underwear to make that a point, Ghost.” 

“Yet,” he smirks slyly and you blush at the implication. Seonghwa reaches for you as you pass in front of him again and slip right through his fingers a second time “Now where are you going?” 

He sounds whiny. 

You like that. 

“Another thing you should know about me,” walking to the door and turning off the big light, the living room goes dark except for the lighting that illuminates it as you're making your way back to him, getting on your knees on the couch and reaching behind him to turn on a lamp that doesn't do much but, this way, at least you can see each other “Is that I don't invest in new shit. Can't afford it, so those curtains are useless during the day… And when the lights are turned on.” 

“You don't want people to gossip about you kissing a hot guy?” 

“Wow,” his cockiness is clearly a joke but you won't let the opportunity of making fun of him go “Is the hot guy in the room with us?”  

He beams at you. 

“Oh, shut up, Y/N.” 

Humming and feeling a lot more comfortable now that you know that, in fact, the spotlight won't be on you when you keep kissing his lips raw as you intend to, you loop your index finger in the collar of his shirt and tug with minimal force at it. 

He acts like you put a lot of strength while doing it, his lips a breath from yours again as a consequence.  

You're about to let out a witty remark, something to keep the teasing and flirting going but then his eyes actually light up like the sky when the song playing on the speaker changes. 

“That's what you were humming yesterday!” His hands fall to your waist and you all but get whiplashed at the quick change in attitude. 

He looked like he was about to risk it all a second ago and now he's letting his back fall into the couch and taking you with him. 

“Huh?”

“I didn't saw anyone when I came into the shop yesterday and then I heard you humming this song.” 

“Oh,” you laugh, braising yourself on your forearms as he moves his hands up your back “Is one of my favorite songs by them.” 

“By who?”

Eyes wide as saucers, you gape at him in disbelief “Kiss?” 

“I don't know them like that!” 

“You don't know this?” he giggles under your scrutinizing gaze and you follow, still in disbelief. You don't really know what possesses you, but you start singing along to the lyrics “I was made for lovin’ you, baby. You were made for lovin’ me.” 

Seonghwa's laughter dies down at that and you notice it too: How the words somehow seem fitting even though you is day two of knowing him. 

The way his heart beats under the palm you place right above it, on his chest, feels intoxicating. 

So you descend again, your front colliding with his and your mouth grazing his beautiful one as you sing the song to him. 

“And I can't get enough of you baby, can you get enough of me?” 

“Fuck…” 

You laugh “That's not really how it goe—” 

His tongue probing your lips open shuts you up for good. 

Seonghwa's hands hold you close, tracing the curve on your back slowly with his thumbs until he finds that spot where your shirt rode up a little, goosebumps on your skin letting him know what he provokes on you. 

There's never been a point in time where you let yourself wonder if you're moving too fast. 

For you, someone who had to take every chance they got in life to get something, out of fear the opportunity wouldn't show up again, this thing you got with Seonghwa feels like it's going at the right pace. 

You both like each other, that much is clear. 

Nothing dramatic has really happened to bond you two together, but it feels like it has. 

Like you're bonded. 

Like it was fated, somehow. 

Like his motorcycle had to break down and he had to walk into the shop when you were the only one there to assist him. 

Like he had to see you breakdown, take you away from the despair Deokhee brings to your soul, in order for you to finally let go and move on to greater things. 

And there's nothing greater than feeling his hand travel down and absentmindedly grab your ass, a noise of satisfaction slipping through your lips and landing on his at the feeling. 

“I'm so—” 

“I liked it,” your smile blends with his as you peck his lips and he does it again, gaining a pleased hum from you “Come here, Ghost.” 

“Where?” 

Disentangling your limbs from his, you follow your original plan and slip from the couch to the floor, your knees hitting the soft carpet you have under the coffee table you're grateful is not that in the way.

Seonghwa sits on the couch again, opening his legs to accommodate the new position you're in and you see the image get to him before the suggestion hits your head. 

You see him gulp when you lick your lips and then it's your turn to gulp, trying to understand if this is something he wants as much as you want it.

Because suddenly you want it. You want it so much. 

It doesn't take much to gather up the courage to touch him, his thighs inviting you to caress them with your nails, teasing, testing him “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, hooded eyes and a soft, whiny, trembling tone making fidget on your knees “More than okay.” 

It makes you smile. But there's things to clear up before you go any further. 

“I don't want you to think I brought you to my house just to get on my knees in front of you, Seonghwa.” 

“I don't… I w-would never think that,” you nod and he releases a shuddering breath “I don't want you to think that this is all I want from you either, Y/N.” 

“I don't think that,” you whisper “but thank you for making it clear.” 

“Mhm, I… Oh.” He stops when your touch trails higher and you take your hands away. 

“You wanted to say something else?” 

“N-no.” 

Squinting your eyes at him, you press “You sure?” 

“I was going to say that I want you… S-so please touch me, please.” 

Who would've thought that a man begging would turn you on so, so much? 

You catch on to it immediately. Lowering your hands again, this time around his calves, you pull him a little so he can sit on the edge of the worned out couch. 

He follows suit. 

“You want me to touch you?” you murmur and he nods “Where?”

He closes his eyes, blush beautifully creeping up his neck “Y/N…” 

“You asked me to touch you, but I already was…” you say, like it's the most obvious thing ever “So where do you want to be touched, hm?” 

Straightening your spine and angling yourself upwards, your nose hovers just below his chin. Hands starting to go up again, you hear his breath hitched when your palm grabs into the fabric of his pants before letting it go, the sound of it hitting the skin under making you and him release a noise. 

“How do you want to be touched?” 

Looking down, Seonghwa's mouth barely brushes your nose when he says “So it's going to be like this?” 

“It's working for you,” you whisper back, the pad of your fingers pressing on his inner thighs and, when you look down, the tent in his pants curves your lips with pride that shows when you turn to him again “Isn't it?” 

Pupils blown, he bites down on his lip and you see, for a slight second, a switch in his demeanor that makes you want to drop the teasing just to ask him to take you right there, on the floor, on the couch, wherever he wants to. 

But, as soon as your fingernails trace the outline of his cock, he switches back “P-please...” 

He doesn't have to beg you anymore. 

Desperate to have him squirming under your touch, you push a little with your thumbs and he whines, a sweet sound you can't treasure as long as you want to because hand grabs your neck and his mouth crushes yours in want. 

In a few seconds, the button of his pants is off and the fabric is pooling at his ankles. You help him out of them, his mouth never leaving yours except when you two break apart to pass sweet moans in between kisses and barely there bites. 

Boxers succumbing to the same fate as his pants, you get him needy and panting into your open mouth as you finally take him fully into your hand. 

Pumping one and then twice, you finally pull away to look at him and the sight that welcomes you is beautiful, big and oozing at the tip. 

Eyes connecting with Seonghwa’s again, you make sure he's looking at you before gathering spit and letting it fall into your hand. 

He moans. 

And then he moans a little more when you start working his length, butt connecting to the carpet once again to give him attention fully. 

It feels invigorating, the control he gives you makes you float into an intimate space you never had the opportunity to explore before and that just adds up to the list of things you're grateful for. 

You take in his reactions, the way he's having a hard time keeping his mouth shut when you get close to the tip and tease it before going back down, the way his breath catches in his throat when you lean in and blow some air on it before letting yourself have a taste of him. 

Licking around the tip and eyeing him as you do so, you get to catch him throw his head back in bliss. Then, you indulge both of you a little bit more: hollowing your cheeks, you move forward to take him in your mouth. 

And then you moan around him at the feeling and he shivers under the palm you placed on his knee to keep steady as you suck him off. 

“Your mouth feels so fucking good, dear,” he encourages and you bat your eyelashes at him teasingly, making him chuckle before whining again. Tangling his fingers on your head to guide you to the right speed, he closes his eyes and curses under his breath “So fucking good.” 

It only makes you want to hear him again. So you do your best to stay on him, breathing through your nose and continuing your ministrations as you moans above you, filling your living room with sounds you want to plaster across the walls, encapsulate in a bottle to hear them again when he's not with you. 

You take him deeper and his grasp on your head tenses before you release him with a lewd sound you didn't really intend to make. 

Breathing hard, you let out a whine when he tilts your head back. He looks at you with indescribable desire, want and a little smile that prones yours. 

“You have no idea,” he starts, leaning in to take you mouth with his again, tongue swiping at the saliva that gathered under your bottom lip “How bad I want to ruin you now.” 

Oh, so maybe he's not as submissive as you thought. You should've guessed it, the slight switch and the little glint earlier would've hinted you his true intimate nature if you weren't so busy trying to get the act up. 

“Only if you want to, of course.” 

And yet, he's such a fucking gentleman. You can practically feel yourself getting wetter at his words. 

Your whisper is sweet, a confirmation on what you want and what he obviously wants to hear “Come here, Ghost.” 

You make space for him on the floor and he doesn't question why the both of you are not on the way to your bed right now. 

He seems to like it, even, so you giggle into his mouth at his eagerness to lay you down on the soft carpet and hum appreciatively when his hands bypass your shirt and grab your bare waist to accommodate you both into a comfortable position. 

With his leg in between yours and his chest pressed against you, he kisses you until you're pliant, needy and janking him down to earn some sort of friction. 

Mouth descending down your cheek, into your jaw and then your neck, Seonghwa scatters kisses in the soft spots like he already mapped you out with his mouth. 

His hands touch you where you like, his knee bumps into your core to keep you there as he works his way through you like he had you like this before and it's addicting. 

It feels right. 

He mouths at the valley of your breasts and softly sinks his teeth into the flesh through your shirt and it makes you dizzy, letting out a moan that makes him smile. 

Touching him too, you give his back some attention before sinking your fingers on his silky hair and tugging at the strands. 

He kisses down, down, down until he reaches your belly and then bites you the same way he did seconds ago “Ghost…” 

“Say my name, Y/N.” 

“Hm?” 

“I love when you call me Ghost,” he starts, breathing hard and you watch his nose disappear under the fabric of your shirt, raising it a bit more when he moves to be eye to eye with you “but I want you to call my name if I'm making you feel good,” kissing the sense out of you for a few seconds, he talks against your mouth “Can you do that for me, dear?” 

“Yes,” you barely nod, opening your eyes to find his “Seonghwa.” 

The way you whisper his name, needy and teasingly at the same time, seems to wake something else in him. 

Because in a second, he's asking you to raise your body a little so he can take your shirt off. You help him with his and he moves to undo the clasp on your bra after asking for permission one more time and you shouldn't really find his insistent questioning of consent so hot but you do. 

He takes his time with you, exploring you with his mouth as you do your best to keep still under him. He kisses your chest, rounding your nipples with his tongue and taking them into his mouth after.

Lightning illuminates the room and electricity runs through you and settles into your core. 

“Seonghwa…” 

The sky roars when he gives your legs attention over the fabric of your pants, moans blending into the thunder and the sound of the raindrops against the window when he pulls back and raises your left leg to kiss a path from your ankle to your thigh. 

You buck your hips at the feeling, asking for more without really saying anything and he smiles before moving to your right leg and giving it the same amount of attention. 

“You want me to touch you?” He asks and you're about to call him out for being mean and clueless, but his smirk proves he's only teasing “Where do you want me to touch you, Y/N?” voice low and dripping in honey, he unbuttons your pants and you're not too fucked out yet to know he's returning the way you tortured him earlier “How do you want me to touch you?” 

Your pants end up meeting with his somewhere under the coffee table and you smile when he zeroes on the wet patch your arousal has formed on your underwear. 

And, unlike him, you're not actually humble in asking what you want “Don't you want to taste the mess you've made, Seonghwa?” 

When he eats you out, he makes sure to taste it real good. Open you up with his fingers, learn the right pace and pressure until heat pools on your lower abdomen and you're incoherently babbling praises under your breath. 

When you come undone on his tongue, you make sure to repeat his name like a mantra. Over and over again until he's sated with his meal and leaves the remnants of it in wet marks as he makes his way up to your mouth. 

Tasting yourself on his tongue is heaven. 

“Sound so pretty for me, you're so… Fuck, Y/N.” 

Taking him into your hand again, his dick twitches at the sudden attention it's getting and you explore the skin on his neck, lap at his collarbone and nuzzle against it because you just can't get enough. 

“I want you inside me, Seonghwa,” you whisper against his skin and you see him close his eyes when your other hand joins you on his chest, thumb against his nipple “Ruin me like you promised, hm?” 

He grabs your chin, eyes dark with passion and affection in a way you never want to forget “Your filthy mouth might be the death of me.” He whispers and you giggle, bratty.

“Good, I never want you to forget it,” you whisper back “I never want you to forget me.” 

“Never in a million years, dear.” 

Happy at his response, you kiss him and feel the warmth of his hand leaving you to try and grab his pants again. You giggle when he curses lowly, letting go of him so he can take a condom out of his wallet with a smile on his face. 

He looks back at you in the process, shaking his head in amusement at the way you're taking the tender pause and he's smiling when he rolls on the condom as well as when he lowers himself so he can kiss you senseless again. 

When Seonghwa enters you, the whiny mess he was when you first touched him makes its comeback and you welcomed it as you sink your nails into the skin of his waist, accompanying his slow movements as he eases you open. 

Soon, you're a whiny mess too. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear and kisses your shoulder while you hug him tight to you and let yourself get lost in the buck of his hips and the way he slows downs to make the moment last, like you're not planning on keeping him in your life and making him see stars whenever he wants. 

When he picks up the pace, the living room is warmer than it was when you first came in and the cold from the storm outside it's forgotten as his sweaty forehead rests on yours and his hips snap into yours with vigor.

“That’s it, dear. God, you feel so good…” 

Ruin you he does. Because this time, as he flicks your clit with his thumb and you come, it solidifies the fact that there's no one else you want. 

Is it crazy and a little rushed because you just met him? Yes. 

Do you give a damn? No. No you fucking dont. 

He ruins you for good and for everyone else, as well. 

“Seonghwa! Fuck, fuck, don't stop.” You beg, overstimulated and hips aching, but wanting him to reach his high so badly none of that matters. 

When his hips stutter, you take his ass with your hands and keep him in place, buried deep inside of you and walls pulsing around him as he comes with a beautiful cry and a rasp of your name in his throat. 

Panting, you take the opportunity to kiss his face as he comes down, nose slowly caressing his with affection and gratefulness and emotion you can't express because it's not the time yet. 

“God, Y/N.” He breathes out with a chuckle and you reciprocate it, kissing his mouth once more before deflating against the soft carpet under you. 

“I know,” you look at him, at his fucked out expression and the cute way he kisses the hand you use to wipe the sweat out of his face makes you feel giddy and in love, even if you know you're aren't in love with him yet “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.” 

Laughing, he nods in agreement “God bless the fucking thunderstorm.” 

He kisses you again and then pulls out, making a quick work on the condom and asking for the bathroom so he can dispose of it before making his way back to you. 

When he does, you're already sitting down, still naked, but sipping at your forgotten water bottle. Sitting down next to you, he places a kiss on top of your head.

The carpet is definitely going to use some cleaning after tonight, but that's okay. 

There's a bit of comfortable silence as you both recover from the amazing sex you just had. He takes a sip of your water bottle as well and then there's another thunder that shakes your window and all, making you both jump a little. 

Seonghwa “Do you… Mind if I stay over?” 

You snort “I wasn't planning on letting you go anywhere, Ghost.” 

He smiles, getting close to your face again “Even if it stops raining?” 

You nod, pecking his lips “Even if I have to go and clean up my room just for you.” 

“Oh, wow,” he whistles loud and you push him in feign annoyance, looking around for your underwear “You like me, like me.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” 

He attempts to hug you but you push him away again and stand up, making a quick job of putting your panties back on “Say that you like me and I'll let you kidnap me if you want.” 

“That's not how kidnapping works, idiot.” 

He gets up as well, taking his underwear and putting it on as he follows you around your apartment. 

You quicken your step, but he catches you right as you enter the mess in your bedroom. He hugs you tight, you back against his bare chest and his chin on your shoulder a second later “I'll honestly let you keep me even if you say you hate me, Y/N.”

Is sweet and it should make you cringe but you all but melt against his touch. There's no really a need to tell him you like him when you place his hand on top of your chest so he can take in the way your heart beats for him for the second time tonight. 

“Good,” you turn a little, smiling at him and then turning to your room again “Do you want to help me clean this up just to make it messy again?” 

“Y/N!” 

Seonghwa doesn't help you clean your room. He, in fact, makes it a lot messier as soon as you two get into bed and when he falls asleep he dreams of a life where he can be by your side every night. 

The only thing that disturbs his sweet dreams is the way you squirm in his hold and he can't quite place the reason for it until he hears the loud, banging alarm ringtone he has set at six thirty so he can get ready for work. 

Murmuring and still half asleep, you slap his chest so he can tend to it “Turn it off, Ghost.” 

He does and he checks the time and the screen of his phone to find a message from his boss. It reads something about taking the opportunity to take the rainy day and work from home or something like that and Seonghwa can confirm, looking through your bedroom window, that the rain falls softly against it still. 

He smiles, grateful to have his laptop with him so he can work on his report if you decide not to kick him out first thing in the morning, and then rolls back to you so he can cuddle you and sleep in for the first time in months of commuting to the office. 

Then his phone rings again. 

Both of you groan at the sound and you sit up, the big t-shirt you put on after taking a shower gathering messily around your waist and he almost forgets about the call at the sight of you. 

You're so beautiful. 

“Pick it up and tell them to go fuck themselves for calling you so early. What the fuck.” 

He smiles “Bossy.” 

“You like it.” You say, smiling back and falling on top of him as he answers the call from an unknown number, your cheek resting on his chest. 

He makes sure his voice sounds extra sleepy when he does “Hello?” 

“Good morning, mister Park!” It's a woman on the line, a voice he recognizes but can't quite place yet “I'm sorry to wake you up, but yesterday you asked me what good you're to me… Guess what? You can find out today!” 

She sounds sarcastic and tired and like she drank seventy energy drinks to stay awake. Seonghwa scavenges his brain until the memory hits him “Miss Kim?” 

You look up at that, curious. 

“The one and only. Now, tonight you will accompany me to a party and—” 

“Miss Kim—” 

“I'm not finished,” you cuts him off, annoyed “At the party, I need you to pretend to be my boyfri—” 

“No.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“No, I will not go to the party with you and no, I will not pretend to be your boyfriend.” 

Now, you sit up on the bed again and frown at him. He shrugs and sits up as well.

“This could be a really great opportunity for you to gain connections and—” 

“Miss Kim,” he starts and, after taking in the sudden desperation on her voice, he sighs “I'm flattered you have taken me into consideration for this… Particular, uhm, job?” He offers, feeling awkward as hell “But my day is taken and I'm not single anymore, so I can't do it.” 

He watches you as you break into a little knowing smile and he smiles back, not even the disappointed sigh Miss Kim lets out on the other side of the line can break him away from the spell you so easily put him under. 

“This is very inconvenient for me but I hope you and the cool girl I saw yesterday are happy together… Even if it ruins my happiness forever!” She sounds like she doesn't really mean the last part but it's trying hard to make it seem like she does “God… Ugh. Don't mention this to my brother and please cover that stupid tree up, okay? Goodbye.” 

She hangs up before he even gets the chance of saying goodbye or asking if she'll be okay. He has friends who wouldn't pass the opportunity to fake a relationship and go to a party, anyway. 

“So,” you start, getting on your knees and making your way back to him “What the fuck was that?” 

He reaches for your waist without really thinking about it, like he's been doing it his whole life and you sit on his lap like this is a morning routine you two crafted with years of experience. 

“I don't really know. Remember my client's sister?” you nod “She wanted me to be her fake boyfriend at a party tonight, I think.” 

“And you told her you're not single anymore to save face because you didn't want to go?” 

“I told her I wasn't single because I'm not,” he says, honestly “Even if you're not my girlfriend right now… I don't really want to see anyone else but you, so…” 

You fake a gasp and he rolls his eyes, smiling like an idiot when you lean in to leave a peck on his lips “And I was about to kick you out ten minutes ago!” 

Pouting, he holds you tighter “Why?” 

“That stupid alarm almost made me.” 

“I turned it off!” 

You laugh at the way he pretends to be offended and you're about to say something else before his phone starts ringing like crazy. 

It's not a call, it's a message notification. 

He turns to it and sees that Yunho is spamming the group chat with emojis. 

“Oh, God,” he sighs “What now?” 

“Is that your friend from yesterday?” 

“Mhm.” 

When Seonghwa scrolls to the messages to find something that can indicate what the hell is going on, he reads something a little alarming. 

Does anyone want to skip town tonight? 

He blocks the phone and tosses it into the bed, turning to your worried form with a smile “Do you want to meet my friends tonight?” 

You seem to get it immediately. 

“I would love to, Ghost,” you lean in to kiss him again, softly “Only if you introduce me as your girlfriend and not your mechanic, though.” 

Heart beating with a wonderful song, he agrees with soft yes and kisses you dumb for the first time today. 

He almost misses the deadline for his report, too. 

It's not really his fault that he can't get enough of you. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[sunflowersteves]

can you write about carmy & readers first time after getting engaged 🥹

omg omg omg fiancé carmy just does it for me ok? and ik for a fact that the man wouldn’t wait once you got home. also I couldn’t find a picture of the ring I wanted so just pretend.

warnings || fluff, established relationship, SMUT, soft sex, riding, mention of oral sex, 18+ only

masterlist

You looked down at the small diamond ring that was garnished with two rubies on a sparkling gold band.

You were smiling so brightly that your cheeks started to desperately ache. The stones glistened, and you felt in awe as your chest fluttered with adoration. 

Your admiration for the ring had stopped as Carmen’s voice rang through your ears. “Are you sure you like it?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed and head down, looking at the delicious food he had made. His left leg was bouncing up and down as the thoughts piled one over the other. 

Carmen had asked you that same question about four to five times now. He asked you once after you said yes, two in the car ride, and one while walking up the stairs of your apartment complex.

Despite your reassurance—sometimes too much in a daze of staring at your hand to realize he had even asked you a question—Carmen still couldn’t quite get it into his head that you said yes. 

It was as if his head was still in a jumbled mess—still sweating and knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. His heart couldn’t stop thumping against his chest, and anxiety-filled thoughts rushed over another. The nagging feeling that he doesn’t deserve this and that he doesn’t deserve you had taken over his brain.

His entire speech happened in such a blur with his stuttering sentences and shaky voice. He watched as your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you shouted, “Yes!” It took him a moment to realize your response—his eyes slowly blinking with his mouth parted open to then at lightning speed getting up off of the ground and crashing you into a hug. It just all felt so real. 

You stand up from your end of the table and walk over to him, taking the spoon that he’s frantically tapping in his hand out from his reach. “Baby,” You coo, pressing your palm against his cheek.

It was the most obvious thing in the world to you. You couldn’t stop staring at it since he put it on your ring finger, but you knew that he just needed a little encouragement to swat those thoughts away. “What’s going on?”

Carmen had proposed. Richie had called you saying there was an emergency at The Bear. Of course, he failed to mention that everyone was okay. You rushed to the restaurant in a frenzy, grabbing the bare minimum and speeding down the highway roads.

When you arrived, you practically jumped out of the car and ran inside. Your brain had thought of the worst possible outcomes—a burned-down restaurant and hurt people. It was sending you into a spiral. 

But then, your heart stopped at the view in front of you. This time, the thumping of your heart was pure elation (minus the mental note to yell at Richie later). The entire restaurant had been closed, and a small candle-lit table had been set up—rose petals trailing across the concrete floors. 

Carmen and Richie were arguing but they didn’t see you quite yet. “You didn’t even fucking tell her anything?” Carmen huffed.

Richie just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “No, you fuckin’ bitch. I just said there was an emergency.”

Carmen’s hands exploded around him, an unlit cigarette between his middle and index finger. “Are you fucking serious right now, cousin? She’s probably freaking the fuck out—an emergency? Fuck—” Richie just rolled his eyes and shrugged, but then his eyes locked with yours and a huge smile spread across his lips. The rest went in a blur, and before you know it, Carmen got down on one knee. 

“I-I just—I don’t know. I wanna make sure that I’m doing this right.” His eyes finally look into your own. Your heart just about stops at the sadness that’s swimming through them. 

“Carmy, baby,” You moved his chair back, wooden legs sliding against the hardwood floor. You climbed onto his lap, legs on either side of him. You pressed a hand to his chest, and you gently rubbed your thumb against his soft, white t-shirt. 

His hands rest on your hips, and they squeeze the soft, plushy flesh. He let out a content sigh, some of the anxiety already dissipating from his thoughts.

He wants everything perfect, just for you. The irony of it all is that you do think everything’s perfect. Everything is always perfect with him.

“Let me see, bebita.” Tina couldn’t stop smiling, taking a glance over at you staring at your ring. You were waiting for Carmen to finish talking with Natalie before leaving the restaurant. Tina had found you, staring happily at your finger. 

She cursed under her breath, eyes widening.“Ay, coño—” She continued to watch the small diamonds sparkle underneath the kitchen lights.

Then, she smiled. She looked at you, and she had the biggest smile on her face. You make Carmen so happy, and he knows he makes you happy.

She was truly excited for her friends. “You know, this was Mikey’s ring. It was their grandmother’s or some shit, but—” She pauses, smiling right at you. “It was definitely his.”

Your eyes widened, mouth agape. “What?”

“You’re perfect.” You say, looking into his ocean eyes. “You’re doing everything right.”

He searches for something. He searches for anything. Any doubt, guilt, lying—literally anything. He continues to stare at your beautiful face, looking from the plump of your cheeks to the curve of your lips. 

His eyes look back up to yours. Nothing. He found nothing but pure love and adoration between your irises. He choked out a sound. It was garbled and whimpering. It made your heart clench. 

“Carmen—” Before you could even react, his lips devoured yours. You gasped against him before melting completely, hands going into his messy hair. His hands scaled your body in a passionate frenzy, desperation hitting his gut to pull you even closer to him. 

You moaned against him as his tongue pushed through your lips and into your mouth, swirling and tangling with one another. His hand went to cup your cheek; it was so gentle and sweet—the action made affection swirl in your chest. 

He parts from you, only for a moment. “Please. I need—I need to be inside you.” Another breath-stealing kiss, lips molding against yours. “You’re so—you’re so perfect, baby. N-need you.” He pants out. 

“Fuck, Carmy.” Your hands move to fumble with his belt. He continues to kiss you, lips smearing against your jaw and chin. Jittery, your hands bumble around and finally find the button to his pants. You shuffle them down his thighs, letting out a moan at the sight of a bulge in his boxers. 

“Carmy—” You whine. His fingertips graze your shoulder and lift the spaghetti strap of your dress. “Please.” You feel dazed and desperate. You feel a burning sensation sprout from your chest, and it ignites across your entire being. 

He helps you out of your dress, and his hands fumble with the back of your bra. Meanwhile, you’re also fumbling with getting his boxers off. The position of sitting in the chair had made this much more difficult. “Baby, fuck.”

“Need you, Carmy.” You whine. It caused him to smirk down at you. Eventually, the two of you get all of your clothes off, discarding them somewhere on the floor. You were still straddling his thighs—kisses so sweet and passionate that they tingled against your lips. 

His cock was hard, leaking with some pre-cum, and it made you shudder. His eyes were half-lidded as he stared at you with hazy eyes. You position him to your entrance and slowly sink into him.

You both moan against one another, breathing in each other’s presence. Carmen’s head rolls against your shoulder, biting down at the clench of your walls. You start to ride him—hips rolling against his own. 

“Gonna—fuck—gonna make you my wife.” He breathes out. He watches the way you slick smears against his thighs and the way he disappears into your tight cunt. You loudly moaned against him at the affirmation of his—making you even wetter than before. 

“Wanna—wanna be your wife, Carmy.” You whispered against his soft skin. His lips lower to the perky bud of your nipple and swirled his tongue around the sensitive area. “Want—fuck me—want you to be my husband.”

You could feel his cock twitch at your words. His lips revert their way to where he really wants them—your lips. You whimpered at the feeling of him pushing you further.

The hand on your back was rough from calluses. The new position made you whine and cry, Carmen whispering sweet, sweet praises. “Doin’ so good for me, baby. My–my fuckin’ girl. Look at you, so-so good. Gonna make you my wife. My fucking wife.”

His words are what send you over the edge—the sweet praises and confirmations of his love became too much. “C’mon, pretty girl. Let go for me. Be a good girl and let go.”

With a loud moan, your walls spasm around his cock and gush all over him. You’re screaming his name like a prayer that won’t leave your lips. Your legs shake, unwilling to move any longer. He’s whispering to you again and again, but this time you weren’t listening. 

He was on the verge of an orgasm too, but there was a bigger, more primal need for him to do first. He watched as you slowly slid out of him and he started to press gentle kisses across your shoulder and neck.

He watches your eyes slowly come back to him, and he waits. “I love you, baby.” He says, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“I love you too, lovebug.” You say, a lazy smile curling your lips. You look down to see his hard cock against your thigh. You open your mouth to say something—wanting to take care of him, but he stops you with a shake of his head. 

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna eat you out. I need to taste you. I-I—” He stutters through his words, and the desperation settles on his chest. He needs to taste you on his tongue. He needs to hear the sweet sounds that escape your mouth as he eats his favorite meal. 

“Carmen. Fuck, yes.” 

The first night of being Fiancée’s with one another was going to be a very long night. 

[willownwisp]

nice legs, daisy dukes.

i. nice legs daisy dukes makes a man go woo woo. (vendetta!leon x fem reader) author's note: like every responsible writer, this is not proofread because i run on my delusions and being thick faced. i write and call it a day. first entry of my valentine's advent, yayyyy! i tried to overcome my intense fear of dialogues because i know i suck at it omg please tell me if i did well, likes are vv appreciated! cw: nsfw. r18, MDNI PLS. fingering in public.

Leon feels like a creep, scratch that. He definitely looks like a creep. He probably looks like a thirty-six year old man waiting for a hot coed, because he is. He pulls out his phone to relieve himself of the slight shame, sends a dry text because he doesn't understand the purpose of an emoji. Never did. In his day, texts used to be enough and it was hot that you could send a coherent text with those small ass phones and even smaller keypad.

He leans against his Ducati looking like a fucking dick with an elaborately decorated box of pastries in hand. You've been eyeing the newly opened pâtisserie from across the street. He can be sweet when he wants to be, because he knows you're obsessed with those "instagrammable" treats. It gets him good boyfriend points because you matter, you're his sweet little bunny. The sweetest.

You're sweet when he sees you from the flood of students exiting the campus gates in your pink mini dress and a matching cardigan, a flood of warmth washes him, in his mind there are compartments. Store the trauma in another space deep inside his brain, and the other space a section of just you, he tucks away the image of you in this mini dress.

It's definitely going in his favorite outfits you wore.

You're sweet when you visibly perk up at the sight of him in all his 5'11 glory, beaming at him as you literally run towards where he stood. God you're just adorable.

"Lovey!"

Your sweet voice cuts through the idle murmur as you stand before him, and Leon looks at you with that soft gaze. You look like a bunny. A giddy one. The ribbons you wore on your hair come to view now that you're near, and the sight of your shapely thighs put him in a spell.

"Bunny, are you surprised?"

He replies with a smug smile.

"Uh-huh!"

You nod with a soft giggle, a faint blush dusting on your cheeks.

"We don't usually have lunch together…"

You add, the smile on your face is practically inextinguishable as you squirm. You're so fucking cute. He thinks before he brings up the box of pastries, presenting it to you like a cat gifting his owner a small trinket. You squeal before throwing your arms around him in a hug.

"Lovey! How did you know I wanted these?"

You ask and he chuckles, of course Leon would know. Who wouldn't when your social media is full of your ravings about the place, but he plays it off cool.

"I just did, bunny. Boyfriend senses and all."

That reply earns him a giggle from you and he's whipped. Your dainty hands grabbing the box as you mouth a small 'thank you' and his arms wrap around your waist. Lifting you up like nothing as he seats you atop his Ducati, like the pretty princess that you are.

"Where are we going, lovey?"

You ask, but the words fall on deaf ears for as soon as Leon had lifted you up in his hands, he's already thinking of ways to feel you, properly. The way your mini dress hikes up your thighs as he looks down to peek at your legs, he hums an acknowledgment to your question, his hands snaking from your waist to your thighs just where your mini dress ends. His thumbs rub lazy circles on your skin , before he lifts his head up to give you a cheeky grin.

"Anywhere bunny. Let's get out of here, yeah?" You nod obediently and he pulls away, giving your head a soft pat as you tell him off to not mess up your hairstyle and he rolls his eyes, takes the time to put your helmet on because he's a gentleman. "Hold on tight bunny." He'd say as you hug him from behind, the whole bike ride was silent as he speeds through traffic, only for the both of you to end up in a deserted park, right at a secluded spot just hidden behind trees and park picnic tables. Leon gets off first, taking off his helmet before turning his attention on you. He takes off yours only to be greeted by your confused face. "Are we having a picnic, lovey?" You ask, and he only gives you a smile before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. "If that's what my bunny wants." There's a teasing lilt on his voice as his hands wander up to your thighs, his calloused palms rubbing up and down, and you get an inkling that it was not picnic time. "Lovey, don't do that… we're in public…"   You tell him off shyly but he only quirks an eyebrow. "It doesn't really matter when we're all alone, yeah?" His voice is husky as he bring his left hand to grip your cheeks gently, his thumb moving to trace the outline of your lips. "We'll be fine bunny." He assures you as the hand that rubs down your thigh inch higher, and higher until the pad of his fingers kisses your clothed pussy.

"I've always taken care of you haven't I?"

You respond with a whine, it's hard to resist when he gets like this. All over you, hands, and close as he possibly can.

"Lovey…"

You call out to him one more time, teetering on the edge of a protest or a plea for him to go on. Leon bits his lips as he rubs your clit slowly, stimulating you before he rains chaste kisses on your face. A kiss on your forehead, a kiss on your cheek, on your cute nose, and a peck on your lips, because you're his baby. He treats you like a ceramic décor, because your precious and fragile.

"Use your words, bunny."

He responds as he slowly feels your cotton panties dampen underneath his fingers, your clit swollen with need and he feels you heating up.

"Lovey, I'm wet…"

You whine again as you squirm beneath him, your grip on the handle of the box tightens up as your free hand claws the leather seat.

"Want me to help you, bunny?"

He coos as he uses his index fingers to tease your clothed pussy, rubbing it up and down the slit as your insides flutter.

"Uh-huh, please lovey."

A satisfied grin eases on his face before he eases his fingers off of which earns him a sad whimper from you and confused look before he shakes his head.

"Suck."

He orders, bringing in his digits to your mouth which you happily oblige to. He grunts as you wet his fingers with an experimental lick, you could taste yourself from his fingertips before your mouth covers his index and middle finger, sucking on it like a lollipop.

The sight sending electricity straight down to Leon's dick as he pulls his fingers out, giving your lips a short kiss ass your reward before his fingers find their way on your inner thighs again, tugging your panties to the side as your pussy kisses his wet fingers.

Leon being the tease that he is, traces your slit, up and down while his thumb presses on your clit as you instinctively spread your legs more to give him room.

"Lovey, don't tease!"

You whine in his ear once more and he chuckles. Two of his thick fingers plunge down your pussy with an embarrassing squelch as you gasp and Leon chuckles.

"She's speaking to me bunny."

He hums happily as his free hand move from your face to your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread as it should as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

"Lovey…"

You moan, your one eye closes as you watch his hands move, looking down at his busy hands as your slippery pussy gives him enough leverage to slide in and out easily, while his thumb rub on your swollen nub.

"Yeah, bunny? You like that? Can fill you up right, yeah?"

He speaks to you, but you're too dazed to respond as your walls clench around him and he groans. Tipping his head forward to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as you make an "mph" sound as your lips crashes with his. You tilt your head to allow him to deepen the kiss as he slips his tongue inside, tasting your sweet mouth.

 "Ah—ah—" You moan as you part, his fingers not letting up. "You like this?" He whispers in your ear, his husky voice making your toes curl.  "Getting you off after school with my fingers?"  

"Ahh!" You moaned, shoving your hips against his pumping fingers. While his other hand skillfully unbuttons your cardigan's sole closed button before tugging your dress and bra together to reveal your breasts, before proceeding to licking on your nipple. "You're loving this, aren't you?" He rasps, spreading his fingers and pressing his thumb harder on her clit. "Being talked to like this? It gets you off even more, doesn't it, bunny?" He teases you before proceeding to hunch over to suck on your nipples, with his fingers just knuckle deep inside your pussy as your legs lock around his waist, the heels on your sandals digging on his back but he couldn't care less. Your sweet, sweet sounds as he gets you off, your luscious legs around him. God, he could cum from that alone. "Come on, bunny. Talk to your lovey." He teases again, a shit-eating grin on his face as he curls his fingers on that one sweet spot as you throw your head back and your walls clench his fingers in a vice grip. "Fuck, bunny. Can feel you squeezing tight. You're close, bunny?"

He asks but you only respond with a breathless moan as you tremble. He scissors his fingers inside you, alternating between spreading your pussy and curling his fingers and it drives you crazy. He leaves a bite mark around your nipples before he straightens his back to look at your disheveled form. Smirking at the fact that your cardi has slipped off your shoulders and your breasts heaving with your mini dress hiked to your waist.

Looking proud of himself, he captures your lips in a deep kiss as his fingers pump harder, you could hear the salacious squelching at how wet your pussy is.

"Come on bunny, cum for me. Show how much your lovey makes you feel good."

He grunts as his hands grip your cheeks, forehead resting on yours as you tighten up and your body tenses before cumming around his deft fingers with your lips parted in a silent scream.

He slowly halts his fingers, smirking as he brings it to his lips to taste you while you gather yourself. Panting and looking dazed at your older boyfriend who now laps at his fingers coated in your essence like a cat as he groans.

"Did I make you feel good, bunny?"

You nod weakly as your head rests on his chest. He only chuckles. He fixes you up. Tugging down your mini dress and fixing your upper half, buttoning up your cardi again.

"Wanna get lunch now, bunny?"

You look up at him as you slowly gather enough coherence to find that somehow in the middle of your indecency with Leon, the box of pastries had slipped from your fingers and is now a mess on the grass, decorating it with fresh fruit and whipped cream as your face falls and you look up at Leon who now sports a look of… guilt? On his face.

"Leon. Kennedy."

Your voice is dangerously low as you narrow your eyes at him.

"This is your fault!"

You exclaim with a pout as you tug on his leather jacket.

"I was looking forward to eating those! What a waste of food and money! Oh god, I feel so bad!"

Leon soothes you as he smoothens your hair with his hands and he kisses your forehead.

The good thing about being thirty-six and with a shit ton of disposable income is that he can buy you all that you want, it's what he intends to for his sweet, sweet bunny.

[mknae-jongho]

Special day

Summary: It’s your husbands’ birthday meaning he’s off work today and you’ll have all the free time you want. Since it’s his birthday you want to do some special for him.Its a day he may never forget!!

Genre:Fluff,smut

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, idolhusbandChoiSan, Wife!femreader,teasing, pet-names (jagiya, sweetie, sannie, baby), explicit content, blindfolding, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, love-making, rough sex, unprotected sex (Stay protected pls), cussing; banging against the wall and mattresses/bed squeaking, choking, spitting, manhandling, just a good fuck and tuck.

Ps:ITS SANNIE BIRTHDAY, my mann is growing on me👏🏽😭. Since it’s his birthday i wanna do a little something special for ya!! He is 25 omg, but anyways Happy birthday sannie.😘

J pov

—Hyung don’t you think it’s a little too early, it’s freaking 7:30 i’m the morning.— shaking your head as you continued to push the shopping cart. —Janae we have to be up early if we want the surprise to turn out how we want it y’know.— Hongjoong adding the birthday supplies into the cart.

—yeah but still, im still a little tired.— seeing that joongie payed you no mind you just got on your phone to pass time.

—Hey joong umm sannie just texted me.— you looked up to see him already looking at you before he walked towards. —What did he say?—Opening up your phone you showed him the message as you began typing.

Sannie🏔️:jagiya?

You: yes baby?

Sannie🏔️: where are you? it’s early and i don’t see you here.

Looking at hongjoong for help as you don’t know what to say . —Don’t look at me.— shrugging his shoulders with his hands on either side. —Joongie what am i going to say ? technically it’s your fault.— He looked at you with one hand on his chest with a face expression of offense.

—Just tell him you’ll be there soon.—

—But what if..okay— as you do what you’re told but sannie just kept texting, which isn’t shocking.

Sannie🏔️: where are you tho it’s early.

Hello??

Baby😢.

You: Sannie pls baby, I’ll be there soon i’m otw i promise.

Sannie🏔️: Okay i guess.

—okay he stopped texting now.— you guys make it to check out to pay for everything, while you guys got settled into the car you called Wooyoung.

OTP: -woo?-

—janae where are you san is getting on my last nerves.—

—i’m so sorry woo, we’re planning a surprise party for san and i need you guys to get him out the house for a while;while we set up the party.Pls woo?—

—where do i take him?—

—Anywhere woo just get him away from home.—

—Okay i got you.—

—thank baby.—

-your welcome janae now hurry.—

With that the call ended. —Okay joong i got woo & the other guys to take san out so we can set things up at home.— hooking your phone up to the bluetooth.— Great because we’re bout 5 mins away.

——————————————————————————————

—JOONG HURRY!— turning around giving you a side eye. —Don’t give me no side eye.— taking the cake out of the fridge, you placed the candles on top. —Janae go get ready ill finish this up.— taking the rest of the candles out your hands thanking him before heading towards you & sannie shared room.

J pov

After taking me a quick shower and putting on my lingerie i received a ft call from sannie.

—Fuck.— in panic mode i happened to find a robe nearby that i rushed to put on. Setting my phone up straightening my hair up a little bit i answered the phone.

Sannie🏔️:Took you a minute to answer.

You: yeah i’m sorry i just got out the shower.

Sannie🏔️: So.. does today seem special to you?

Knowing what he mean i pretended to act oblivious.

You: Umm no, i don’t think so.. is it supposed too?

Sannie🏔️: Jagiya? are you serious?

My baby look so sad rn i just wanna kiss him all over his face and tell him how sorry i am but i can’t! not rn.

You: What?

Sannie🏔️: You really did forget.

uh ohh..😬

You: What baby?

Sannie🏔️: Nvm, we’re otw i’ll see you when we’ve arrived i guess.

You: okay baby i love you.

Sannie🏔️: Mk.

With that being the last thing said, the call ended. San always says i love you back…unless he’s pissed😬…oops.

knocked back into your senses you see joongie walking towards your room.

—Hey they are right down the street did you find something to wear?— Standing up, you walked towards your closet to pick out a black bodysuit — Yeah just let me put it on.— Closing your closet door your hear joong yell from outside.—Come downstairs when you’re done.— you hear him leaving and the door closed behind him.

Rushed putting on my clothes i spray sannie fav perfume before running over to my full body mirror in the corner of the room to check myself out. Grabbing my phone i took a couple a pics to post before going down stairs.

—Okay i just got off the phone with hwa , they’re here.— He ran to cut off the lights while i hid behind the couch. Shortly after we’re both hidden, the boys walked through the door.

—woo did she really forget?— aww he sound so sad. —San i don’t know you’ll have to talk with her.— Joong gave me two taps on my thigh indicating to get ready. counting down from three in my head.

3…..2…..1….

—SURPRISE!!— the lights flickered back on as the boys including hovering around him, But his eyes stayed contact with you as left to go get the cake.

………

While the members sat in the living room watching television and chatting with each other, you felt two arms hug around your waist with a head in between your neck. Turning around wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him a couple times while his arms gets tighter around you. —I thought you forgot my birthday.— he mumbled into the kiss before pulling away.

-No baby i would never, i just didn’t wanna ruin the surprise we had planned for you.— placing a finger underneath his chin rilling him in for another kiss.

It continues for a while with his hands gripping your ass lifting one leg up placing his bulge on your covered cunt before grinding into you slowly while one hand is on your neck.

—okay baby that enough for rn.— pushing him back while he let out a little whine. —How about you go tell the boys that it’s time to eat?— he stared at you for a while before shaking his head in agreement stealing a kiss from you before runnin off to the boys.

J pov

i watched as he left to go over to the boys. he’s just so sweet and deserves so much love. Knocking myself out of my daze, i turned to get everything ready and put food and cake on each person plate.

—Baby the plates are ready.— i yelled while placing each plate on the table for everyone to grab. They came in all at the same time to get their food & they all gave their thanks.

San pov

—Mmh, this food is so good..— i watched as the members agreed with me, some even slapped their head back.

I saw as my jagiya left out the kitchen with her plate in her hand and walked towards the living room where we were.

—hey baby.— she pinched my cheek before sitting down on the couch behind me. —Hii.— she said looking down at me.

I got up to sit down beside her on the couch before leaning in the place a kiss on her lips.

—Ya’know baby, i thought you’ve forgotten about my birthday.— i told her with a pout. — Like i told you before, i would never san.— she grabbed my face and gave me a couple pecks.

Her lips is so addicting, i’ve got so caught up in the moment that i didn’t realize that the room have gotten so quiet until my jagiya pulled away.

—Finally, you guys go get a room.— Woo young yelled hitting me in the back of my head.

—who wants to play mario cart?— Mingi shouted wanted to change the subject.

The guys all agreed while i just sat there. I want one last thing for my birthday, i just gotta plan how to get it.

J pov

Watching the guys play mario cart as i’m patiently waiting for my turn, san left to go grab a blanket as he claim that he’s “cold”.

Leaning my head back onto the arm rest, san made his way back into the room and layed down on top on me while placing the blanket on top.

—San baby you’re heavy.— Wrapping your arms around his neck, you gently draw circles on his back.

He rises up slightly placing your legs around his waist as he placed his arms over your head. He lean down to kiss you softly with doing so, only soon turned heated —I want you. i just want you for my birthday.— he moaned softly with grinding on my cloth clit.

—babe the boys are around!— i whispered but loud enough for only him to hear .

—Let’s go to the bedroom baby pls, i need you. please.— he whined putting his head between my neck placing soft wet kisses.

—Umm guys, me & san are heading to bed goodnight.— i watched as the boys faces are confused but continued to play the game while i grabbed sannie, making our way to our shared bedroom.

As we entered the room making sure the door is locked. San pushed you against the wall kissing you roughly.

—Fuck i need you janae.— he pulled back to remove his shirt and his pants only leaving on his boxers.—Come here baby girl.— You walked towards him as he sat on the edge of the bed waiting for you. He pulled you towards him softly before saying,—you look so good baby but i need you to take this off for me, hmm?— He gave your ass a soft squeeze before giving it a spank.

Backing away, you slowly remove your bodysuit and as you removed it, you saw san get up from the bed and walked behind you. You felt him grab your waist as you removed the bodysuit from your body, leaving you in your matching purple lingerie set you wanted to surprise him with.

—Sit on the bed sannie, i wanna give you something special tonight.— pushing him back onto the bed you walked towards your dresser pulling out a blindfold. Walking back towards him you got in his lap tying the blindfold around his head.

—Just relax and enjoy baby.— you push him back softly as he put his hands behind his head biting his bottom lip.

Your hands softly rubbed against his chest rubbing down to his stomach and then his v-line. You hear as his breathing became heavy and his hips grind up wanting to feel any friction.

—jagiya pls.— he removed one of his hands from behind his head to grab the waistband of his boxers tugging softly, licking his lips. Lifting your hips up you grabbed his boxers before dragging them down his legs. You climbed back on top of him seeing his reddened tip as it dripped precum.

Grabbing his dick, you slowly moved your hand upward and downwards seeing as he twitched in your hand. You stick your tongue out, softly licking the tip swallowing the precum before closing your mouth around his tip sucking softly moaning against it from the taste.

—Fuck jagiya,— he groaned putting one hand in your hair making a ponytail form before pushing your head down softly. — go lower baby.— he told you in a low tone which sent chills down your spine onto your dripping core.

Doing as you’re told, you began to go lower and lower until all of him is in your mouth. —mmhhh, feels so good baby, fuck keep sucking.— his grip on your hair tighten as he legs started shaking a little.

—Daddy’s gonna come soon. Fuckkkk babygirl.— he held your head still as he began thrusting up going deep down your throat. Hearing you gagging is bringing him on edge as his moans getting louder. Shortly after, you felt his hot steamy cum run down your throat as you started drinking his cum.

Taking the blindfold off of him, you climbed back into his lap before locking your lips onto his as he griped your waist tearing your underwear off. He lined his tip at your entrance as grabbed your throat with his free hand.

Entering slowly for you to adjust to his size, he made eye contact with you before speaking. —Gonna fuck you so good jagiya all you’re gonna remember is my name.— He said against your lips. Catching you off guard he suddenly thrust deep inside your core leaving an expression on your face making him smirk.

—Fuck sannie.— You moaned softly as you grabbed his bicep to hold onto something from the extreme pleasure. He gripped your hips harshly fucking into you hard before giving you a couple of harsh spanks. His grip still on your neck he pulled you towards him to locking your lips together before biting and sucking onto your bottom lip.

—You like that, hmm? Feels good baby?— kiss you softly. —Yess sannie, fuck you fucking me so good babyy, omggg.— moaning loudly as he flipped you over leaving him to be on top. —Who do you belong to? hmm?— Seeing as your moaning loudly and can’t speak correctly, He thrust into you harshly bringing you back onto earth before asking again.

—Answer me sweetie.— Giving you another harsh thrust, he gripped your chin lifting your head up to looking at him biting his lip. Giving you another hard thrust, your eyes closed and rolled to the back of your head as you began to scratch his back mouth hanging open.

—Who do you belong to hmm?— he began fucking you at a fast pace while still gripping your chin shaking your face a little to bring you back. He spat in your face and your mouth slapping you slightly. He grabbed your legs closing them to place them on your chest leaning forward to hit deeper inside you. You both moaned louder from the position

—jagiya,— gripping your hair harshly while giving your ass a hard spank. —I’ll ask again hmm?—spanking you again as his pace sped up making the bed squeaky and bang against the wall multiple times. —who.do.you.belong.too? hmm? hmm jagiya?— he place a hand on your stomach and press against it softly and felt his bulge in your stomach.

—i belong to you sannie, fuckkkk i belong to you. I can’t take it baby, slow do— Your cut off by him going faster inside you.

—i’m gonna cum babygirl.— he slowed down but his thrust is still hard. he spread your legs a little to place his thumb onto your clit rubbing in small circles. You moaned loudly as you felt your stomach tightened up and your legs shook.—fuck cum for me baby. i know you want too.— You went over edge and came all over san and your stomach, your juices rolled onto the bed as your legs shook fiercely before san pulled out as you moan loudly from the emptiness.

He went down on you spreading your legs wider before sticking his tongue out licking your clit softly. Your legs shake from overstimulation as he looked up at you watching your expressions before suddenly sucking harshly.

Your legs closed around his head tightly but soon was forced open. he began eating you out, licking, sucking, whatever he knew that made you feel good. You felt like you were going to explode from too much pleasure. moving your hand down you pushing his head away from you as your slowly climbed up.He sat up a little dragging you down by your thighs before placing his head back between your legs. your hands still moving to push him off as your moaning loudly. He suck harshly making you grip his hair hard.

He grabbed your wrist holding them against your stomach while still sucking. Feeling the mixer and pain and pleasure, you put your feet on his shoulders kicking back softly. Going nowhere he still sucking on your clit harshly before removing his head. A string on drool still connected ,he held your wrist with one hand to free one of his hands and placed two of his fingers at your entrance.

You looked down at him with your hair messy and your body sweaty, you see him looking at you before entering his fingers inside you gunning in and out. He smirked up at you while speeding his pace up. —Look at you jagiya, you look a mess. You’re taking what daddy’s giving you so well.— while fingering you, he attached his lip back on your clit licking and sucking. Sped his pace up, the room became quiet with nothing heard but the squelching noise that’s between your legs and the sucking and slurping noise from san.

Moaning loudly your legs shook harshly as you squirt over his face. Still fingering you through your climax. He looked back up at you before pulling his fingers out giving you a spank on the cheek. He leaned up to place his lips onto yours slipping his tongue into your mouth. placing his hand on your throat squeezing softly as he grinding onto you making you moan, he looked into your eyes before saying,— i’m not done with you yet baby, but your doing do well for me don’t ya think? hmm?— moving your hair from your sweaty face.— we’re almost done baby m’kay.—

Pecking your lips softly he grabbed your arm harshly before turning you onto your stomach. Slapping your ass a couple of times before grabbing your hips lifting you up. He spread your legs leaning down to kiss and lick your clit a couple of times gripping your ass. Leaning up he lined his tip up at your entrance before thrusting in harshly. Holding on to the sheets you moan loudly in a trance while he gripped your hips going faster.

—fuck baby, you feel so fucking good. just wanna fuck this pussy all day hmm.— one of his hands reached forward to grab your neck while the other one pulled your hair which made your head lean back and your back arched deeply. your hands reached up in the air unable to grab anything while tears run down your face and drool falling from your face.

— haha, if only you could see yourself jagiya, what a mess you are on my dick baby. Fucking you so good baby, what’s my name hmm?— thrust into you harder and faster your toes began to curl up as your eyes rolled back into the back of your head as your yelled san name out loud sounding like a trance. —fuck i’m gonna come babygirl. are you gonna come with daddy baby? hmm? like a good girl your gonna come for daddy?— speeding up his pace he put his index finger and his middle finger in your mouth making you choke on it.

Your juice squirts out and you’re getting closer and closer. San spanks your ass again harshly and placed his hand in the middle of your back pushing you down to go deeper. His cock began twitching inside of you as he leaned forward laying his chest on your back so your chest on laying on the bed. He thrust into you harshly as he put his hand over your mouth to hush you. He started making marks in your neck and your back leaving hickeys.

He grabbed your hair with the same hand that was over your mouth and pulled your head back before connecting your lips leaving sloppy kisses while still thrusting into you. —i’m cumming, im cumming baby fuckkkkk. IM CUMMING.— he stopped his paced as he shot his hot load into you as his legs shook. you both moaning together while he held you tight grinding a little to empty himself slowly pulling out laying beside you as you both breathe heavily.

—Happy birthday sannie.— wrapping your arm across his chest leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips which he softly returned. Having a soft and sweet make out for a while he pulled back slightly before saying, — Thanks jagiya, i’ve gotten the best gift i could ask for, from my beautiful wife.

You both lied there in a comfortable silence before getting up grabbing his hand softly. — Let’s go get cleaned up baby.— He follows behind you with his hands around your waist as his head in your neck placing soft light kisses as you made it inside your bathroom bending down to cut your shower water on. You felt something hard against your ass as you felt him grind softly.

—Really sannie?.— reaching up to slap him softly against his chest. —Sorry jagiya, you’re just so hard to resist.— kissing your neck walking back until you’re bout under the shower head.

—I love you jagiya.—

—i love you too.—

—it’s a special day hmm?—

Yes it is…The End

A/N:Im sorry for any mistakes that are made while writing. If there are anything that’s misspelled i’m sorry forgive me😭. I’m a little late on posting this for my husband’s birthday but i’m posting it now.👏🏽👏🏽

Happy birthday sannie🏔️💕.

𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖟 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

[elsweetheart]

jealous girl — basketball!abby anderson au

synopsis: when the other girls on your cheer squad relentlessly show interest in your girlfriend, the captain of the basketball team — you feel the undying urge to claim her as yours and yours only.

♪ jealous girl — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪

cw: reader is a cheerleader / athletic, girl drama, alcohol, reader gets very possessive, jealousy and insecurity for no reason tbh, angst??? reader cries a bunch what’s new, smut, use of strap on, housewife kink, dom top abby, sub bottom reader, a little bit of overstim if you squint? fem reader, lmk if i missed anything!

an: omg hi! i’m so nervous to post this omg. i hope you like the route i took this down! reader can be kind of annoying but stick with it. minors you are not welcome here so don’t interact and ageless blogs you will be blocked. also please don’t ask for a part two! there will not be one! anyways hope you enjoy it bbs ! likes and reblogs welcome ♡

Winner. Scholar. First place.

And that was just the first shelf of Abby’s trophy cabinet. She’d been given the premier student accommodation. You know, the apartments they reserve for their most promising students. Sleek grey cabinets and polished floors, a kitchen to die for — it was no wonder you were barely ever at your own shitty little dorm. Every tri coloured ribbon that hung proudly beside her winnings wore a gleaming gold pendant on the end — just another display of her success. Walking around her sleek scholar apartment was so familiar to you that the glimmering display cabinet barely caught your eye anymore, but each time it did it welcomed a blossom of pride in your chest for your girlfriend, Abby Anderson.

Abby — casual rugby player, frequent at the boxing society, known for wooing her professors into raising her grades by showing up with her own engraved golf club to their country club and wowing them with her swing. But she was known for one thing and one thing only around campus, and that was being the captain of the basketball team.

She was ruthless, six feet and two inches of pure muscle and willpower on the court. The blonde braid, her trademark, swishing against her toned back — and if you’re seeing it, it’s because she’s already passed you with the ball that you had just bounced. You were no stranger to the sound of the orange ball thudding against laminate floors, and the squeaking of sneakers. Infact, it’s what brought the two of you together. No, you were not on the basketball team. You, were a cheerleader.

Not the captain, although that would have been beautifully cliche; the basketball ball team captain dating the captain of the cheerleading squad — take a shot every time you read the word captain, no seriously, quickest way to get wasted. You were happy that way, however. When you weren’t dancing, you were shy by nature. The change in your demeanour was a shock to the system every time — countless frat douches and friendly party goers stepping away wide eyed when they’d approach you, hoping for cheerleader charm and instead being met with a flustered squeak. It took a while for Abby to get through to you infact, as you can imagine — being a campus celebrity and all — approaching the shy girl was a mission she was willing to try again and again at, warming you up until you were eating right out of her big coarse palm.

The memory of your first meeting was still something that made her chuckle. She’d been crushing on you for a while before even saying a word — stealing heated glances at you whilst you were dancing or being tossed in the air — whilst you of course were convinced you had hallucinated The Abby Anderson acknowledging your existence. She was tired of stiffening up at your demure glances and flustered smiles directed at her, so all but marched over to you after winning a huge game. Pumped full of adrenaline, chest heaving as she chased her breath — you in her laser vision. You noticed the hair stuck to her forehead before she even spoke, the shape of an S.

“Hi—”

“I’m Abby.” She breathed out, like a total loser — she’d add.

“I… I know. I’m—”

“I know. Let me take you out. Please?” Don’t beg, Abby. “I asked your roommate if you liked girls.” You did not have to tell her that, jheez. Creep much?

“Oh…?” You couldn’t seem to close your mouth, trying to process what was happening and happening fast. For a moment you questioned whether you’d taken a tumble on that last cartwheel, currently blacked out on the floor in a concussion-hazed dream. Ooh, maybe Abby is carrying you to the infirmary.

“You can say no.” She rambled. She looked nervous for a moment and when you started to smile, so did she. “But… don’t.”

So you didn’t.

Abby was a dream. After you’d said yes, her confidence was slammed back into her and she was busying herself with planning ways to make you hers. She was confident and naturally dominant (Opening regular doors for you, opening car doors for you, hand on your lower back when you walked together…) without being arrogant. Humble, whilst holding herself with a presence that commanded nothing short of respect. She’d taken you for milkshakes for your first date, and you’d clicked instantly. Abby did everything right, which made your face hot and stomach clench up in nerves at the idea of doing something wrong infront of her. But that feeling melted away, the only two people in the small but admirable diner — Abby carrying the conversation for long enough until your shyness melted away, catching yourself in giggle fuelled rambles and debates.

You’d kissed her on the cheek at the end of the first date. So innocent, so sweet — she remembers thinking. She let you have that, didn’t try and go in for a kiss on the lips, stood outside your building. She was happy with her decision when you pulled back and just looked so fucking proud of yourself for taking such a leap. You exchanged some kind words, some gratitude with the small and humble bouquet Abby had showed up at your door with tucked under your arm — before you were flouncing away in your little sundress. Abby touched her hot cheek when she walked away, smiling ear to ear. Her fingertips grazed over a slightly sticky outline, and she picked up her pace to get home so that she could look in the mirror and catch the sight of your lipstick print on her face.

Current day, and you’re puffing out your cheeks — stepping into the sweaty auditorium. The humidity is a little stifling and you frown in disapproval, wondering when they’re going to be getting the fans fixed like they said they would. This time, tucked beneath your arm is Abby’s white water bottle, college logo printed along the side, that she’d left in your dorm when she’d dropped by the night before. Your eyes searched the room to spot her, and it didn’t take long as she pretty much towered over everyone — you stopped for a moment at the edge of the sports floor, chest inflamed by the sight of your squad members surrounding her, giggling.

You hate to say it, but whatever stereotype or rumour you’d heard about cheerleaders is true. Especially at your college, there was something so criminally But, I’m a Cheerleader (1999) about your squad in particular. You didn’t like to get involved in the drama, but sapphic drama was not unfamiliar to you. It was bizarre, everyone was friends — but their sporty girlfriends from outside of the team were getting passed around like peas. Abby had always been an object of their affection, but before you had started dating her she seemed out of reach — due to the fact the blonde quite literally never even glanced their way, too focused on the game, and whispers of ‘Abby doesn’t date sports team girls’ around campus. Since the two of you had been together, what — 10 months now? It seems to have refilled their confidence in being able to win her over, regardless of how you felt about it.

It was never direct. To anyone else, the group of you seemed like great friends — and you were the number one flyer, needing you as the centre piece for every dance. You were happy to get chucked in the air so long as they caught you, so as you can imagine; that element mixed with your shyness forced you into not confronting them all for flirting with Abby.

"No but if I had arms like this? Whew, no one would be safe. I'd be a slut... I mean I already am..." The cheer captain, Liv spoke, the other dancers squealing in agreement. Abby looked uncomfortable to say the least, forcing a polite smile and trying to wedge herself out the small hyena circle they had formed around her. A blossom of pride filled your chest when you saw the sheer relief in her eyes, her gaze landing on you. You surged forward into the light, smiling awkwardly at your peers as you approached your girlfriend. She bounced the orange ball on the ground once before tucking it under her arm, other bulging arm bringing you in for a quick hug. "Hi, baby." She chirped, happy to see you.

You wanted to enjoy the moment, but couldn't ignore the disapproving gazes from behind Abby's back, their faux-friendly smiles turning to not so subtle glances and snickers toward each other. Just ignore them. Abby didn't pay them any mind so why should you?

"Hi Abs." You lowered your voice, like you were hoping they'd get the hint and give you two privacy. They stuck around like flies, much to your disappointment. "You left your bottle at my dorm. Didn't want you to get dehydrated agai—"

"Awwww, you guys are so cute!" The bleach blonde base leader appeared beside your girlfriend, obnoxiously butting in and making a point to rest her hand on Abby's bicep. "I want what you have." She pout, but you couldn't help but feel that comment was directed more toward you.

"Oh—thanks." You chuckle, not quite meeting her eye. Abby took the bottle from you, shooting you a subtle ‘wtf?’ look which made you wanna giggle.

"Oh you refilled it, nice. Was so fuckin' thirsty." She smoothed a hand over your head gratefully as she brought the bottle to her lips and chugged, stepping away to address her team, their practice ending for the day, giving the cheerleaders the space to rehearse for tomorrow. "Alright team, circle up I got a few pointers." You heard her command, smiling as you watched her team members gather around her obediently. You snapped your eyes away toward the girl still stood by you, eyes slightly narrowed as she observed you. She looked away when you noticed her intense gaze.

As much as you hated to see Abby leave without you, it always brought you some kind of relief — knowing that your squad could actually focus on what you were there for, cheerleading — instead of fawning over your girlfriend, giggling, bending over in her direction to 'tie their laces'. You knew dating Abby would bring a lot of attention, and you knew that there must have been plenty of girls that were after her — but this whole thing with your own squad was getting pretty old. Sometimes you wished you weren't so shy, so you could give them a real stern talking to. You didn't wanna put it all on Abby, it wasn't fair, she didn't ask for this and plus it was your problem. You didn't wanna be that jealous and possessive girlfriend, did you?

The next day, Friday rolled around fast.

It took a lot to shake Abby’s confidence. She knew she was good at what she did, otherwise she wouldn’t be on such a prestigious scholarship, or have acquired the team captain title so fast — but she was nervous. The impending game was a big one, there was no room for fuck up’s. There had been talk of scouters for top women’s basketball leagues joining the audience, and Abby knew that if things went well it could really put her on the map, no — it was guaranteed.

Your eyes were fluttering closed, heavy after the long day you’d had perfecting your routine with the team. You were in your shabby little dorm, practically a hole in comparison to Abby’s sleek apartment. More times than not you’d stay with your girlfriend, calm eachothers nerves before a big game — but you had mutually decided that you’d both needed to ensure a perfect night’s sleep. Your phone laid beside your head on your pillow, the glow of Abby’s contact picture lighting up the small space around it. She was breathing slow and calm on the other line, clearly tired herself.

“And then you can come and stay at mine tomorrow after the game, and stuff.” She hummed, the sound of her shifting positions, her bedsheets rustling taking over the audio for just a moment.

“Mhm. ‘Can celebrate your win.” You smile, eyes now closed as you picture it all, nervous butterflies batting their wings against your stomach.

“Or mourn my loss.” She chides. “You can still come over either way.” Abby chuckles but it’s dry and humourless. She always got this way before a game, just a little pessimistic — doubting herself subtly through sly jokes and quiet comments. To anyone else, she’d still appear just as confident and carefree — but you knew Abby.

“Abs, don’t say that. Y’gonna win. Simple as.” You exhale, feeling your body sink further and further into the pillow. She was silent for a moment, considering it — probably doubting everything that had just come out your mouth, this time in her head.

“Hm.” You listened to her breathing, and it made you sleepier. “You’re tired baby. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” You wanted to protest, be there for her and soothe her nerves for a little longer until she felt ready to sleep but her voice was lulling you into a dozed state.

“You sure? I can… stay…” You could barely finish your sentence, making her chuckle tiredly.

“Yes, pretty girl. Gotta get your rest for tomorrow. Need you cheering me on up there, helps me play better.” She was smiling, you could hear it. Your heart swelled and you made a happy humming sound to after.

“Night Abby, seeyoutomorrowloveyou.” You sigh out in one breath.

“Night baby. Get some rest. I love you.”

The opening intro to Fergie’s — Fergalicious blared through the auditorium, your squad occupying half the court as you danced for the screaming crowd. Hips, hips, split jump, cartwheel — behind your bright smile you were counting steps, keeping your arms tight and straight, flickering your eyes towards the scoreboard. You looked properly as you stood on top of the pyramid, ankle by your head — burst of adrenaline and relief when your eyes landed on the numbers in glowing red, signifying that Abby’s team was still in the lead. You gracefully flipped, and were caught back on the ground, heart thundering in your chest as you continued on with the dance.

As rehearsed, the college mascot had run on, joining in on the dance. A ridiculous looking wolf with a brightly coloured t-shirt and cap on its furry head. He danced beside you, comedically shaking it’s hips in time with you. You glanced over at Abby, happy to see her looking eased, a slight smile on her face as she jogged away from the net, watching you dance. A few strands of her hair stuck to her face from sweating and it reminded you of the day she asked you out.

63-63 with three minutes to spare.

Your squad tried not to show that they were itching from the sidelines, eyes glued to the players as you were lined up by the benches, waving pom poms now and shouting your usual chants, trying not to get drowned out by the passionate yelling of the audience.

Be aggressive! B-E aggressive! I said be aggressive B-E aggressive! B-E A G G - R E S S I V E! Whooping the house down show ‘em who’s the leader — bring ya’ baby down down, go cheerleader!

You tried to keep your grin as you chant, moving your hips in time with your claps and arm movements as you watched Abby’s team mate miss the net, ball rebounding off the backboard. You caught a glimpse of the frustrated expression on Abby’s face, jogging around players and yelling directions over the crowd that seemed deafening at this point. You watched her eyes rake through the audience, looking for a talent scout shaking her head and drawing a big red cross on her clipboard or something. Her eyes then found you, a inkling of panic that was calmed by the tide that was your face staring right back at her, smile still plastered as you repeat your chants with your group. The sight of you surged something through her, she had to do it for you.

63-63 with two minutes to spare.

“Don’t worry guys, Abby’s got this.” Liv twinkled proudly, like the blonde captain even knew her name and you felt sick. Sick with nerves, sick with possessiveness, sick with irritation. You stomped your feet that little bit louder whilst you cheered, wanting to dash your pompoms at her head. You felt sweat trickling down your spine, head starting to pound from all the tension and noise. Was the crowd getting even louder? Where did you put your water bottle?

63-63 with one minute to spare, and there was no time to drink.

Even the chants stopped, the squad trailing off just to watch in awe. The sound barrier practically broke when the ball came to a thudding halt, caught mid pass by none other than Abby Anderson, basketball hero. This other team were good, frighteningly so — but they were no match for her. She dribbled with precision in and out of players until she met a wall of her opposition, closing in on her fast to snatch the ball. She turned left, turned right, looking for someone on her team she could rely on to get the ball in the net. The coach yelled from the side, the cheerleaders gripped eachother, the audience stood on their feet. Abby’s knees bent, arms extending. Everything went slow motion, like it always did as you watched with wide eyes. The ball didn’t circle round the hoop, it didn’t slide down from the backboard, it slammed straight through the net so hard you thought when it landed it might leave a dent in the ground.

63-64— and the crowd fucking exploded.

You were immediately jostled to the side by your squad jumping up and down, grabbing eachother with screams. You stumbled, jaw agape trying to catch sight of her. Where are you Abby? Let me see you.

She was suddenly there, expression mirroring yours. The world still moved slow, spotting eachother now. She took off toward you, dodging the grasp of a celebratory cheerleader, skidding past a team member that tried to pull her in, straight toward you. You met her half way, feet in control now and leapt, Abby getting the same idea and thrusting her arms around your waist, swinging you round in a circle. Then, you could both smile, and it didn’t stop growing, not even when you smashed your lips together. There was no sound anymore, no screaming crowd or cheering squad members — just your own delighted giggle against her, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, the back of her hot, sweaty neck in your palm, your teeth clashing together at the force of the kiss.

You pulled away to breathe and the sound returned like you’d just come back up from underwater, the yells, the cheers, the chanting of her name. “I did it I fucking— do you know what this— baby, i did it.” She was panting, forehead pressed to yours and hell, you couldn’t care less that it seemed the world was watching such an intimate moment.

“Your life’s gonna change Abby, i’m so proud of you.” You breathed, and before she could reply — expression of awe, and utter love struck, she was setting you down and her team was tearing her away, lifting her above their head, passing her another big golden trophy to add to her shelf. She held it in the air, and then came the flashing of cameras, the barrage of students running to celebrate with her. A cheerleader from the other team roughly brushed your shoulder as she passed you with a glare and you didn’t even stop to acknowledge her, just watching on with pride — hands clasped beneath your chin. Your Abby had won, and nothing else in that moment mattered.

8:04PM

“Is it braggy if I wear the jersey on top?” She was smirking a little, stood in front of you in all her glory in her apartment. You spun around at the vanity, eyes taking her in as you pulled your little pink dress further down your thighs.

Your girlfriend was showered, and dressed — donning her bright blue jersey over her grey hoodie and jeans. You grinned, standing up. She looked good, but she always looked good. You had to stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around her neck. “Don’t you think you deserve to brag, a little?” You flutter your eyelashes, tilting your head with a grin.

After every game that was won, a party was thrown at the house of one of the sports captains. It was tradition, and almost always it was in Abby’s honour, because she was almost always the star of every game. The one to think of a genius formation that would throw off the other team, the one to make changes last minute that would be the saving grace, the one to make the winning shot. Today was like no other, and you knew everyone was willing to go extra hard this time — after that win, Abby was like a fucking celebrity.

You felt like you were hit with a shockwave of noise as soon as you walked in. The bass from the speaker was all but vibrating the floorboards, the sticky…wet (?) floorboards. You blinked, accustoming yourself to the low lights, clinging onto Abby’s thick bicep as a swarm of people coming to greet her approached. Sometimes parties felt like survival, Abby being that buoy in a storm that you’d cling to until the tide had cleared. The music was loud as usual, familiar, what was the song playing? You recognised the familiar tune to Blame It by Jamie Foxx and T-Pain and nodded your head with a false confidence. Drink, I need a drink — you thought, detaching yourself from Abby to beeline to the makeshift bar once you’d spotted it. Not the punch, you weren’t stupid — you had no clue what people had put in there. Vodka… vodka where are you? You grabbed the clear bottle with the red lid and poured yourself a generous amount into your cup before filling the rest up with… what were your options— cranberry juice. Nice. This will get you by. You needed social skills tonight, Abby had won a huge game and you didn’t wanna drag her down with your shyness. You sipped, no — downed some of your drink with a wince, some liquid spilling down your chin. Alter ego activate, shyness be gone.

You found Abby again, and when she spotted you awkwardly trying to wedge yourself through a gap to get to her she slotted her arm through, parting the sea of people like Moses himself to pull you right up beside her, torso to her ribs. You could stay like this, right up on her— you wanted to stay like this, but you’ll be damned if your girlfriend wasn’t social.

It’s an hour later, you’re drunk, laughing at something dumb Manny had come up with, social for once — and you hear them before you see them. The gaggle. The malicious giggles, pitched just a little higher than their real laugh in an attempt to turn heads. It works, you turn, there stand your cheerleader friends. ‘Friends’.

You can tell they went hard with the pregaming because they’re clinging onto eachother, forcing their way through the party crowd like a cluster of germs. That’s mean, you think to yourself, shaking off that feeling — the ugly feeling rising in your stomach like scalding bile. Insecurity, the feeling immovable even when you’re drunk and joyous, lodged into you seemingly forever, an arrow with spikes. You push it down, push it down, push it down as they squeal and come towards you. It flares up with immense force when you catch their outfits. They’re all wearing ‘Anderson’ jerseys. Did they fucking buy personalised jerseys?

It’s like you step out of yourself for a moment because you reach out and take a hold of the jersey across the cheer captains chest, turning her around and pulling the material taut as you see ‘Anderson’ in crisp white font across her back, mocking you. Your mouth is agape, unfocused and she steadies herself, turning back around and grabbing you.

“You like ‘em?” She whoops and all the girls join her, fondling their jerseys proudly and looking around for more eyes.

“Personalised jerseys?” Is all you manage to let out, just a simple observation. Liv falters for a second, something mischievous twinkling in her eye, lip curling up ever so slightly.

“Baaabe, the manufacturer f’ed up our order, and we fell one short. But we figured you’d have your own one right?” She eyes you obviously. Her malice is hardly hidden anymore. “Abby didn’t give you her jersey?” She tilts her head, as if it were an innocent question. You bitc—

“Abby!” The copper haired girl behind her squeals and you don’t have to turn around to know your girlfriend has unknowingly made her presence clear and accessible. The troupe practically rush you, shoving past to circle Abby once more. The uncomfortable look the blonde had yesterday in the court was gone, the one drink she’d been harbouring all night loosening her up a little — which made that insecure, jealous feeling nestle itself back beneath your ribcage.

“Heeeey— ohhh, awesome!” She smiles in a friendly way when she notices their jerseys. The same friendly expression she’d give to anyone, not flirty or lusty in the slightest — but they’re grabbing at her and batting their lashes up at her like they want to jump on her there and then and you feel yourself trying to crush the red solo cup in your palm. You’re broken out of your enraged trance because your sweet, thoughtful girlfriend is pulling you through the crowd they made, grinning without a care in the world. “You see this babe? Ah, should have given you my one to wear huh?” She laughs, and they laugh, but for different reasons.

The girls leave her alone for a while, but God they’re always fucking watching. Finding ways to subtly interact with your girlfriend. Accidentally bumping into her, which she barely notices until they start profusely apologising. Dance moves becoming inherently more sexy when she turns in their direction — not even looking at them but oh do they try. You finish your drink, because you need to finish your drink— and succumb to the urge to be that girlfriend. Who gives a fuck? Maybe you are that girlfriend.

It didn’t feel like you when you impatiently tugged her away from Nora, another basketball player, mid conversation, hands clasped in Abby’s silky jersey, pulling yourself to her chest, your own tits squishing against her.

“Aaabs.” You whine, and it’s giddy, lustful because she just looks so good. She smirks down at you, letting you tug at her, letting you move her. She looks so into you in that moment and it just… somethings not enough. You’re glancing for your cheer team, and that hideous feeling of shame briefly twinges inside you. Are they watching this? Seeing me touch you? Do they know you’re mine?

“Baby.” She’s returning your giddy smile, and you have to pull away from a moment so that you could back up a little… a little more into the clearing… give them a perfect view.

“Y’look so good.” Is all you can say because it’s true, and you’re pretty sure your eyes completely glazed over— pupils shooting out wide when she grabs a handful of your ass, a little rough but in a loving way, just like the Abby you’re used to — using her grip to pull you back into her hard, a small ‘hmph!’ whimper forced out of you when you all but slam into her strong chest. You love it when she got like this. Grabby. Forgetting her own strength and manhandling you. You’d usually be giggling and shoving her away in public, but you craved the eyes now. You wanted viewers, jealous gazes, realisations — Abby is locked in.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She’s chuckling at your expression. Forever her needy girl.

You sucked in your lower lip, eyes melting into that doe eyed expression that made her want to fuck it off your face, and she squeezes your ass a little harder. Your knees practically buckle, face burning hot because you feel your pussy spread open under your dress — as if she’s opening the floodgates by hand, wetness pouring out into your underwear. You hoped and prayed they were watching. Screw your little Anderson jerseys, she’s gonna be knuckle deep inside me in five minutes if the two of you kept this up.

“Cant wait to— mm—” You turn your head. Liv is snickering, whispering, but her expression says it all. Jealousy. You feel victorious. Abby curls a finger around your chin and your distracted gaze is back on her.

“Cant wait to what?” She glances in the direction of what you were staring at and your heart skips a beat.

“Can’t wait for you to remind me what a winner feels like.” You breathe out quickly and she’s back, smirking hard like she can’t control it. If she was packing, she’d be tilting her hips forward by now, digging her strap into the mound of your cunt through your thin dress where you stood — and it makes her wish she did pull the harness up her thick thighs beneath her jeans before the two of you left for the party.

“Yeah?” Her voice is breathy, low. “Forgotten already?” She chuckles, and she’s kind of right to— she was always winning, it wasn’t easy to forget.

“Mhm. Oops.” You shrug and you both giggle this time, her hands sliding around your waist. Each time her hands find a new spot on her you can’t help yourself from glancing over at the eyes. At Liv. At the whispers. Get a good fucking look.

Abby leans in, hot breath on your cheek and you turn back to her nearly knocking noses. Her brows are frowned a little and her cheeks rosy, lips parted in a way that made you wanna shove your tongue between them. “Give me… a little while longer to bask in this.” She chuckles, humble like she always was. She steals a kiss from your parted lips. “Can’t leave a party thrown for me so soon… just a little longer and I’ll take you home and give you a reminder, pretty girl.” her blunt finger nails rake behind your ear, scraping whatever hair was there backwards, pecking you again. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling, hot and lethargic. You wanted to be obedient but something still negged at you, buzzed in your ear like a fly to ‘stay focused’.

You gripped her strong arms. An attempt at control.

“Don’t have to leave. Can just go upstairs. Right here right now.” You whined in an impatient way this time, fingers curling around her hoodie peeking from beneath her jersey. She blinked a few times and you knew she wasn’t a huge fan— Abby never liked quickies, especially not on a celebration. She wanted each time she fucked you to be memorable, like a performance — she was a love maker, and to her public quickies were usually just a little… euck.

Her soft smile remained, because the request only told her that you were desperate to have her. All the more reason to make you wait, she thought. Get you real worked up. Yeah, she could have fun with this.

“Not happening, babe. Wanna take my time on you, don’t you wanna have it out with me all night?” She tilted her head, persuading, blowing hot air over your mouth and God — yes, on one hand you wanted that badly but there you go again… eyes trailing off to the right… over to your cheer group. Show them. Drag me up the stairs Abby. Make me walk out the bathroom limping. Show them what they can’t have.

So you said “No!” and you were one quick movement from actually stomping your foot like a child. Abby looked taken aback, but she still chuckled. Not in a mean way, but was it ever? She leant back from you, trying to gauge just what was going on.

“No?”

“I need you here. You… stop denying me they’ll — they’ll see— it’s embarrassing—” The shovels in your hand and you’re digging that hole, deeper, deeper…

“Who will see? See what? Babe what’s with you?” The smile melts off and she’s frowning now. Ohhh, boy. You’ve fucked it up. You blink, like you’re trying to wake up from your petty possession. You look once more and they’re intrigued now, gossiping. Are they fighting? Will Abby be single by the end of the night? This enrages you more, but you don’t have time to react because Abby sees it now. See’s that envious look in your eye, but it’s not really envy — because Abby has never in her life given you a reason to be jealous. It’s uncharacteristic and Abby’s stomach twists a little. “Oh.” She steps back, no no no.

“Sorry.” You splutter out. “Sorry, sorry— I’m sorry Abby I don’t know what that was. I just freaked. I want you to bask in this, people are here to celebrate and you deserve that. Sorry. I don’t… know what I was thinking there.” You try and force out a chuckle at the end to lighten things but it doesn’t come out quite right. Abby watches you for a moment, a little tense and worried. Eventually she gives you a small smile, coming close to you again, a hand on your shoulder.

“S’okay. No more drinks yeah?” She’s gentle and you’re embarrassed, of everything really. This is meant to be the greatest night of Abby’s college career and you’re… doing this. Making it about you. Your shoulders slump a little before you shake yourself off physically.

“Yeah, no. Good call. Whew.” You smile and she smiles back. It’s all okay. You’re okay.

Except it’s not, and she knows that. Things are a little weird now, you’re distracted and trying too hard to please her. Eyes snapping towards her guiltily every time she catches your gaze wandering off, as if scared she’ll see you looking at those girls again fearfully. You stay right by her side, shyness creeping back in. You’re smiling in a polite, forced way, and she can tell you’re not really enjoying yourself anymore. Not after that weird moment. It gets a little later, and the party isn’t in as full of swing as it was before but still pretty lively. She can’t enjoy herself if you’re not, so why bother?

You watch her watch you, her shoulders dropping slightly when she sees how tense you look. Truthfully you were worried, you’d tried to show off — let your possessive urges control you — and now, insecurities at the surface you’d seem to make things worse. You didn’t know why you’d let this pick at you, get under your skin the way it has but the fact they’d all seen you have that weird moment? It was eating you alive. They were probably so smug, probably thought they stood a chance with Abby now. Your Abby.

“Babe let’s just go.” Your attention snaps back towards her, suddenly stood in front of you— her braid resting on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Yeah, no it’s— I can’t enjoy myself if you’re not. I’m not mad, baby I just don’t wanna force you to be here.” You feel so fucking bad.

“Abby, it’s not — I am enjoying myself. This is your party.” You express, coming close to her. Most of the alcohol had worn off by now, and you just felt sick from embarrassment— and this conversation was even more sobering. She shrugs, and looks around. It no longer seems to interest her.

“I know but… I’d rather you just be… not in this mood.” She speaks quietly but you hear her and your face falls. Did you really show yourself up that badly?

“Alright.” You match her pitch, and her back is to you again — saying goodbyes. You can’t look up, can’t look and see their disappointed faces. You wish you could close your ears, to not hear the choruses of ‘Already?’s and ‘Cmon Abby this is your party!’s. But you couldn’t keep your forlorn gaze glued to the ground for long, because you knew people would look at you, see your expression and know it’s your fault she’s leaving prematurely. You cursed yourself for caring too much about what people thought that night, and smiled politely in departure.

Abby took your hand, fingers locked into yours as she walked you toward the door, saying bye to people as she continued moving. You made the mistake of sparing your cheer team a departing look, and they were watching once more — glancing at each other curiously. Liv wiggled her eyebrows playfully as you passed her. “Ooo, someone’s in trouble.” She snickered, and your breath caught in your throat.

You didn’t start crying until the car was half way down the street. You’d tried to keep it silent at first. But the car was already silent, the radio not turned on and Abby not saying anything. You didn’t know what the silence meant, you just knew you didn’t like it. Maybe she was reconsidering things. You’d ruined her night, the night that was supposed to be all hers and you took it from her — all because of your petty, jealous, insecurities. That wasn’t the kind of girlfriend she deserved, you were supposed to put all your focus into supporting her. Exist for her. She’d never given you a reason to worry about other girls but for fucks sake — those girls. You let them walk all over you every single day and now they were all talking. All coming up with schemes to take Abby from you, thinking your relationship was on the rocks and maybe it would work. After how you acted tonight, maybe it would fucking work.

You covered your face when the tears started really coming down hard, a quiet sob shuddering out of you. Abby glanced at you, jaw tensing a little. Not because she was angry, just because she was so confused about how you’d gotten here. She’d never seen you like this before and just… what had she done to get you so fucked up like this? She spoke your name, calmly — full of authority and a little detached, not cooing it gently like she would when she’s seen you cry in the past. Her tone made another sob hiccup out, and she spoke it again. “Look at me.”

You did, and you had to wipe the snot from beneath your nose so that it didn’t stick to your hands when you pulled them away. Your makeup was ruined, eyes sore and red and she glanced over you, her main focus on the road.

“Just… breathe and calm down. We are gonna talk about this when we get home.” She shakes her head a little, eyes on the road. Your heart aches and soothes a little at her calling her student apartment ‘home’ like it belonged to the both of you. You don’t have time to indulge the fantasy. “I don’t… understand this… tantrum babe.” She mutters like she’s too mature for it all and she is, which makes you all the more embarrassed. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the journey home, tear drops on her expensive leather seats. Well — she doesn’t speak if you don’t include the occasional “Breathe.” and such when she’d hear your breathing start to pick up, upsetting yourself all over again.

She walked you up to her apartment and you hugged yourself as you stood behind her, watching her unlock her door. She held the door open for you, but didn’t look at you when you walked through — unsurely looking around like you’d never been there before. You wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. Did she want to talk now?

You stood in the hallway and her warm hands gently came down onto your shoulders.

“Go sit down on the couch.”

When Abby tells you what to do, you do it. And not because she’s scary, or intimidating or aggressive. She just carries this… air to her. One that makes you want to respect her, no matter how worked up or pissed off or upset you are. It would be the same way every single time, she’ll calmly make a demand and you fucking do it. Of course, minus the mini ‘tantrum’, as she so kindly put it, you had.

She didn’t follow you, infact — she walked the other way to her bedroom, hearing the door click shut when you made your way into her living room area. The leather couch that was usually home to so much love and affection now cold against your skin when you sit down on it, the sleek material frigid from not being touched for hours on end. You bring your knees together shivering a little, and a few minutes later Abby returns. She wields a makeup wipe, and presses it into your palm silently when she lowers herself into the arm chair opposite you. You want to cry out like a baby and reach for her, ask her why she’s sitting so far away but you have to be good. You have to fix everything.

Abby’s thighs spread as she leans forward, staring you down analytically with her elbows on her knees, long fingers wringing her wrists before she looks down at them, puffing out her cheeks with a long exhale. You wait for her to speak, wiping the gooey eye makeup up from your cheeks and eyes.

“Tell me… what this is all about.” Her voice holds a quiet kindness this time, despite the line that appears between her brows as her expression becomes a little exasperated.

You suck in a quick breath, eager to explain yourself and beg for forgiveness — “Nothing I was just being —”

“The truth.” She raised her hand to speak which silenced you instantly. You press your lips together, letting two fat residual tears race down your cheeks either side, the left tear winning victoriously when it surpassed your jaw and streamed lazily along your neck. Abby watched it move.

You thought this time. No more covering it up. No more being immature. Be truthful. What was this all about again?

“I think…” You gulped, willing yourself to be brave. You knew Abby might not see you as a ‘chill’ girlfriend anymore— exposing your insecurities and jealousy — but she wanted the truth and being a liar was objectively worse. “The girls on my cheer team are… I think they’re picking on me.” You admit quietly and her brows jump up, intrigued. Not quite what she was expecting. She stays quiet and you carry on. “I’m not… I don’t wanna be toxic and jealous. I let it get the better of me tonight. They’re always… flirting with you, talkin’ about you, showing off to you, trying to get your attention and at first I didn’t care because, I have you, you know? And you’ve never given me any reason to believe your eyes have wandered but fuck it’s so hard when they’re just… relentless. And beautiful and confident and I’m… I know what people think Abby. I know I’m shy and people wonder how…” You trail off, and you’re not sure you wanna admit any more. Not after that explosive rant.

“People wonder how what?” She pushes, and she’s scooched so far onto the edge of her seat that her long legs are bunched up and she’s barely perched on it.

“Wonder how… I got you. Why you stay with me.”

The confusion just melts off her face.

She blinks a couple of times, feeling like someone just placed her heart in a panini press hearing your sad and small tone of voice. So small, and she can tell you really believe what you’re saying and it just kills her. She wants to reach out then and there and hold you and kiss you and cry for you but you’re talking again.

“And I know you’re not a trophy and I don’t see you that way, please don’t think I ever—”

“No, no no no.” Abby cuts you off as a correction, eyes shut as she scrubs a hand down her face. She gets it now. The jealousy. Clearly, you hadn’t noticed the wandering eyes of her basketball team players, smirking over at you when your little cheer skirt that was too short for everyone’s good would flip up, shaking your hips in your adorable little routines. How if she didn’t keep you on her arm at every party, frat boys would start to circle you like crows, waiting to pounce until they realise, holy shit that’s Abby’s girl, and back off. If anyone got it, it was her. “You don’t need to explain anymore I’m… sorry. Come here, please.” Her pained expression relieves you and also devastates you because now she’s blaming herself.

You listen, again, because it’s Abby and you push off the couch to stand in front of her on the arm chair. She pulls you to sit sideways on her leg, thick arms wrapping around your waist protectively. She looks up at you, brows furrowed.

“You are beautiful. I don’t… want anyone else. Ever. I love you, baby. You know I love you? You know I don’t give a fuck about any of those other girls. They’re not you they’re not… c’mon.” That gentle cooing voice has broken through and more tears slide down your raw cheeks. She’s wiping them away this time, coarse thumb swiping the moisture until it absorbs into her skin, becoming apart of her.

You sniffle, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry. This is your night and you’re comforting me. I promise I’m happy for you.” You hiccup into her neck when she pulls you in, and you feel her shake her head because her braid tickles your arm.

“I don’t care.” She chuckles honestly and cups your face to pull you back, make you look at her. She’s so beautiful you want to cry some more. “I don’t. It could be my birthday and I’d still look after you. You’re my girl, yeah? You over everything.” She exaggerates, moving her head slightly to meet your eyes when you try to shamefully drift them away.

“Kay. Love you, Abby. M’so lucky.” She feels you sigh in relief and your body relaxes just a little bit. Her hands slide around your back and press into the muscle, massaging and rubbing — trying to get you to just melt and become one with her when you cuddle her.

“I’m lucky.” She speaks into your temple, pressing kisses there. She manages to gently manoeuvre you until her lips are pressing the same quick succession of kisses onto your swollen pouty lips. She hums in satisfaction and you feel something stir in your tummy. The hum was almost primal, one that said ‘this is mine.’ You wanted to hear the noise again. Without too much thought behind it, you turn to sit on her lap fully, facing her now. You pull yourself closer with your arms around her neck and your kisses begin to dot along her jawline. Come on Abby, make the pretty noise.

She sighs, tilting her head for your access and thinks. Thinks over everything that had just happened. Maybe she hadn’t done enough, her brain had been so focused on winning the game that perhaps she’d forgotten to reassure you when you needed it, and she knew how important reassurance was in a relationship. An urge spread through her body, starting in her stomach like an icy cold lake and travelling up to her chest like molten lava. The urge to just… give you everything. Everything you wanted and needed. Everything you couldn’t ask for and everything she should have given you. Abby had always harboured a ‘spoiling’ side, and in that moment it had kicked in hard.

She pulled the strap of your dress off your shoulder, letting your head tip back this time as she sucked and nipped at the soft skin there. She loved how opposite you were to her, when she was sweaty and rough around the edges after a game you were still impossibly soft everywhere, still smelled sweet and clean and like you, like she was a wild lion coming to lay her cheek in your gentle hand after slaughtering a deer.

You squirmed on her lap and Abby jumped between your lips and your skin, feeling that beautifully familiar warmth begin to spread through your underwear again. Starting with your clit starting to throb when she’d gently buck her thighs below you — all the way to your hole that started to ache and crave the feeling of her inside. Her tongue lapped up your own, sucking obscenely as her hands pushed your lower back, bringing you higher on her lap and— oh?

You were now sitting atop a bulge. One that wasn’t there at the party. You thought back to her disappearing into her room as you sat down on the couch when you’d arrived back at the apartment and smiled at the feeling against her lips. So calculated, Abby — and she smiled back because she knew. Knew she was gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you after your talk, she just didn’t expect you to fold so easily. For it to take such an emotional direction. She could just tease you for being a cry baby, but where’s the fun in that?

You start to grind like you just can’t help yourself, your shared saliva pooling beneath your pouty bottom lip as the kisses became more sloppy and intense. You swore you could never get over how good it felt to hump against her jeans in just your panties, the combination of materials and the writhing of your hips always leaving you gasping. Abby too, the way the strap was positioned would press snugly against her clit making her breath stutter against your lips. She refocused herself, fingers tugging your dress up to your waist. Enough had been about her tonight she’d decided, now she wanted to make it all about you.

You detached for a moment to pull your dress over your head, lips meeting once more as she tossed it aside. Next came the unclasping of your bra, and then she was sliding your thong down your legs. When she balled it up to chuck aside she felt the wetness in her palm.

You stood over her now, the one time you weren’t shy — stark naked. She’d made you so comfortable over the ten months you’d been together it wasn’t even something you’d take a second worrying about anymore, Abby knowing the map of your body like the back of her hand. She made you feel so safe with her gentle-ness. Abby, big scary Abigail Anderson, Abby ‘i’ll beat your fucking face in if you step up to me outside the basketball court, no seriously repeat what the fuck you just said’ Anderson. And you’ve reduced her to this gentle, loving giant. Someone who was rubbing her big hand up your tummy as her thighs caged you in where you stood. Reaching for your breast and just rolling her thumb over your nipple making your legs quiver a little. All her stoicism that everyone else knew her for had melted away, her eyes soft and loving as she gazed at you, touching you.

She reached up and began tugging her jersey off over her head, leaving her in the grey hoodie. Where you expected her to toss it aside with the heap that was your pink dress and underwear, she brought her attention to it, bunching it up and opening up the head hole of the shirt. “C’mere.” She muttered, standing up over you, your neck suddenly craning to meet her eye. “Put it on. Fuck those other girls cheap ass jerseys. My girl gets the real deal.” She’s speaking so quietly that you feel like she’s talking to herself, that you shouldn’t intrude her stream of thoughts — even if the words made you literally clench your hole so tight you could crush a fucking walnut in there.

She slipped it over your head and pulled your arms through the arm holes, stepping back with her hands on your shoulders so she could look at you. Look down at you. See the way you stared up at her tall frame, her jersey swamping you and resting beneath the swell of the plump under-cup of your ass cheeks. “Looking good babe.” She smiles, holding you back to carry on looking at you even when you try and lurch forward, hands loose-fisted and grabby as you try and climb all up on her again where she stood. She subdued you by taking your hand, walking away and practically dragging you along behind her. “C’mon, this way. Not fucking you on the couch.” Though it wouldn’t be the first time.

She had you on her lap again in no time, her feet planted heavily on the floor as you press into her cloaked strap, legs stretched over her thighs making you ache in that delicious way that said nothing more than ‘my girlfriend is fucking huge, the gym fears her’. Impatient, you’re tugging her hand that was cupping your throat, pushing it down, down between your thighs. She pulls away, a little breathless with her mouth all red when she slides her fingers through your cunt, eyes on your hard nipples creating little mountain peaks against her jersey as you breathe heavy in her face. “Soaked, baby. Have you been needing me like this all night?” She’s whispering before her lips are on yours again, stroking your little bundle of nerves head on, making your legs flatten out and tense in the air with a quiet yelp. “I know.” She hums, and that’s all it takes to soothe you. Yes, she knows. She always knows. It was Abby for gods sake, if anyone knew exactly what you needed… well.

After torturous stroking, Abby’s middle finger curls down right to where your hole is, pressing and massaging and teasing. She knows you want her inside, you want more than her fingers, fuck — if you could you’d just consume her whole but this will definitely do the trick. “I want you,” she starts, slurred by the open mouth kiss she’s pressing to your shoulder now. “To ask me nicely. Not like you did earlier. Show me my good girl.” She whispered, like it was one last attempt at being strict before she just gave in and spoiled you. It fooled you, anyways— your mouth falling open with a whine as her thumb pressed up against your clit.

“Please Abby— ‘ll be a good girl now okay? Wanna be your good girl.” You’re blabbering against her cheek and she doesn’t fight you on it, pushing inside you and basking in the way you give her a welcoming squeeze upon entry.

“How are you still so tight? After I’ve abused that pretty pussy so many times?” She sighs, tone suggesting that she’s actually pondering it at a moment like this. You don’t have the strength to respond, fucking against her fingers. You loved foreplay with Abby, don’t ever doubt that for a second — but tonight there was something different, it just felt like preparation. The two of you knew that tonight of all nights you needed to get fucked with her cock, and that would be the main event. She could barely wait, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t loosen you up around her callous digits first so she can slip right inside of you easily.

She slips another finger inside you and you black out a little bit, like you always do. Maybe it was all the emotions finally catching up with you, but you just go limp in her lap, letting her finger fuck you the way you need. “Prettiest girl ever. Don’t know what the fuck you were worried about. Gonna fuck it out your brain tonight, yeah?” She’s cooing again and she knows that’s your sweet spot, that tone of voice doing it for you every damn time. If anything was gonna make you cum quick, it’s gonna be the sympathetic drag of her voice as she ensures you that you don’t have to think anymore.

“Yeah Abby, please! Yeah!” You sound pornagraphic and your spine flushes hot at the idea of the surrounding students in her neighbouring apartments hearing any of this — though it wouldn’t be the first time (as told by the passive aggressive post-it note left on her door reading ‘Keep it down we don’t all need to hear your girl busting a nut.’ that one time. You didn’t live down the humiliation for a week, and Abby of course only took it as a challenge to make you moan louder despite your pleas of ‘Abby! You’re going to get kicked out of your building!’ whilst her head was in your crotch. Anyway—)

She was practically vibrating her hand at this point, fingers squelching in and out of you with sounds so mortifying that if you weren’t experiencing such euphoria perhaps you’d bury your face into her cuss her out for embarrassing you. You, were slurring a made up language made of her name, curse words and just down-right vulgarity as you felt your stomach lock up in that scaldingly familiarly way. Abby chuckled, smug at your babbling, responding with “Yeah?” and “Uh-huh?” until you were clenching hard around her fingers halting their movement slightly, which gave her the green light to move onto “Thats it baby, cum for me. Just getting started with you tonight. Give it to me, pretty girl.”

You went numb, pretty much everywhere but your cunt — something high pitched and feral deafening you through the impending white noise of your orgasm — wait, was that you? You could hardly breathe, and when some feeling returned to you, you felt stickiness all along the inner sides of your thighs and seeping into the rough denim of Abby’s lap below you. Jesus… did she make you—?

“Shit babe, fucking… baptised me there.” She pants, like she was the one that just received an earth shattering orgasm and you collapse against the strong muscle of her shoulder, trying to self soothe— trying to ground yourself. You twitched, her fingers stilling within you at the tell-tale sign of overstimulation. She pulled them out, rubbing her thumb on your bare hip as she pressed her chin to her chest looking down between your bodies, admiring the gooey mess you’d left on her. “Already got a little fountain going on down there baby, we haven’t even been going at it for that long.” She teases with a grin in a way you know is meant to be praise because as soon as you lift your head she’s attacking your hot cheeks with kisses.

“S’embarrassing.” You whimper, despite your small giddy smile and she tsks a little, hand creeping up to your throat, holding your sturdily there.

“If you’re still finding things embarrassing, it’s because I haven’t fucked all those bad thoughts from today out that pretty little head yet. You still want it?” She’s speaking against your lips now, effortlessly pushing her hips up beneath you and rolling her strap into your sensitive cunt again. Is that even a question?

“Still— still want it—”

You weren’t finished speaking, and Abby is moving at the speed of light. She cups your beneath your ass with one hand, still using your delicate neck as her main grabbing point— she twists the two of you, so suddenly you’re on your back and she’s hovering over you, all in one quick succession that makes your head spin. Your back bounces against the bed, bounces you into her and her thumb soothes over your throat. “Hands still working baby?” She kisses the corner of your mouth. You flex your fingers out of her vision, testing.

“Yes.”

“Undo my belt then, pretty.” It’s clear she still needs both of her hands to caress you, so you get to work, shakily reaching for the leather tucked within the denim waistband of her jeans. It’s smooth and feels expensive beneath your fingers, and the sound of the buckle clinking makes you squeeze out more of the residual arousal you’d spewed out only minutes prior. It’s like she can tell it does something for you, because her tough pads of her fingers come and rest on your sensitive clit again, just rubbing slow lethargic circles making it harder to pull the belt out of the loops. “Thats my girl.” She helps you, taking the belt and placing it aside.

She does the rest, because you just weren’t moving efficiently enough for her liking, one hand sliding up your soft arm until she’s pinning your wrist gently to the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, and the other hand deftly unpopping the button of her jeans and sliding the zipper down. She pulls the familiar plastic cock out, adjusting her hips and resting the shaft along your tummy, tip grazing just below your belly button. “Think you’re ready for me now?” She leans forward, nudging your chin with her own to get your lips where she needed to capture them, sucking on your bottom lip barely allowing you to sigh out a pleasured “Uh-huh.” against her.

She sits up, pulling her hoodie off leaving her in just a fitted black wifebeater and the pace of everything changes all of a sudden. It’s less desperate and more purposeful, coming into her dominance and remaining control like she always did. She leant over you, reaching for the lube in the bedside drawer and leant back, drizzling it over the shaft. You reached forward without thinking and massaged it around for her, looking up at her with those big needy puppy dog eyes. She groaned, like you were actually jerking her off — greedily yanking her jersey up to sit above your plush tits for her viewing pleasure.

“Fuck… so pretty… Alright baby, deep breath in for me.”

She looked so good like this, hair stuck to her face and neck, jeans pulled just below her peachy ass being cupped by the ropey black harness. The royal blue plastic glistening as she slides it up and down your willing cunt. Her biceps bulging from holding herself up above you, making you just want to sink your teeth into her. Abby was a work of fucking art.

You follow her instructions, Abby kissing away your strained whimpers at the stretch. It only made sense that Abby Anderson, home to all BDE — was weighed down by a fucking monster of a strap, 7 and a half inches, thick and dark blue with added detail of veins and a fat tip. When you first slept together, after one very successful date, sitting on her lap in that little innocent floral dress that rode up your doughy thighs just right — she thought about calling the whole thing off until she could get her hands on a strap a little smaller and less threatening. Until, of course — your wide and blameless eyes were staring up at her, hand barely wrapping around it as you thickly muttered out a ‘I can take it Abby. Let me take you’, and the rest is obviously history.

She sighed out once she was fully seated in you, like it was a relief, like one day you might not be able to take her fully and she’d have to practise even more self restraint by thrusting in halfsies. You tensed up, suddenly aware of the situation again. A spike of sickly anxiety washed through your stomach. Did you deserve this? After the havoc you caused today? “Pretty girl. Let me in that head.” She whispers and it hypnotises you as she thrusts slowly, just grinding her hips against yours.

“Don’t — mmphm— don’t deserve this.” Your voice is high and a little panicked, and Abby’s eyes open to pin you down with her grounding gaze. She knocks your chin up gently toward her as if to say ‘look at me.’ and she rests her hand over your chest, feeling the hammering of your heart as you very suddenly become overwhelmed.

“Hey.” She drags calmly, raising her eyebrows. You try and relax, copying her breathing because you knew she was about to tell you to do that anyway. “Sweet girl.” She thumbs your cheek. “You deserve every last inch of this fucking cock.” She’s whispering again and you cry, hard. She picks up on what you need, and she presses up deeper into you, making your legs flail before wrapping tightly around her ass, your tits bouncing obscenely to the rhythm of her thrusts. “My perfect girl. Don’t have to worry about anything ever again. Yeah? Gonna fucking… go pro ball, make you my pretty little courtside wife. How’s that sound?” She starts to thrust a bit harder and you’re stunned out of your freak out session, distracted by her words and overcome by pleasure as you just listen. Interested to see where this fantasy will go.

“Yes.” Is all you manage and it’s barely audible but she hears it, and carries on.

“Gonna make it to WNBA for you baby. Not for me. So I can spoil you for the rest of my fucking life.” She grits her teeth, her big rough hands sliding around your back so she can cradle you, use your body to fuck you on and off her cock. You whine, barely aware of the fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. “You wanna give me that baby? Let me buy you every pair of shoes and stupidly priced handbags so you can look pretty for me at every game? Yeah?” Her voice is higher pitched and you think she might cum at some point, but she’s too determined to fuck your lights out completely for any of that.

“W—want that Abs, want you— I want —”

She’s interrupting, not finished with stuffing this fantasy into your brain until there’s nothing there but the manifestation of those thoughts. “You won’t even remember those girls on your cheer squad. They’ll be nobodies. You think I’d ever fucking look at anyone else but you, hm? My pretty little wife?”

Just when you think things can’t get more intense, she’s decided that she’s not physically deep enough — and pushes your thighs up to your chest, knees squishing against your tits as she stretched you, grunting out a “Fuck”, a sign of her losing control for a second. “N’then after every game. Can take you.. fuck, can take you shopping, fly you out wherever you want. Slut you out, just like this. You want that life baby don’t you? You wanna give me that life?” Your brain is muddled, and you can’t tell if you’re begging her or she’s begging you. Your mouth is open, but the air is punched from you and you’re just squeaking like a dog toy and she pounds your little cunt.

She reaches for what seems to be your on button, shoving her thumb between your lifted legs and grinding your abused clit again. “Wanna— wanna be your wife Abby. Want — I wanna—” You’re rambling, and then you’re cumming, harder than you’ve cum in your life. Your throat is raw, nails clawing for something, some kind of life support as she fucks you through your orgasm, breathless and determined. You vaguely feel yourself marking up her skin with your nails, but you’re never fully aware of yourself doing it — always just as shocked and guilty when you see the red streaks across her freckled skin the next morning whilst she’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom with a towel around her waist.

“Good girl. My good fucking girl you take it all. Take what I’m giving you.”

And you do, because when she goes to slow down you’re whining and bucking against her strap— fuck drunk and obsessive, finally getting to that dumb place she needs you to be able to rid of all those negative ideas you had about yourself earlier. She lets you breathe as she thinks about it, thinks about the way you misbehaved and the way you wouldn’t use your words. Maybe there was still more in you, more room for some reinforcement.

That’s why approximately five minutes later you had your cheek to the pillow having been pressed there by the basketball captain herself, Abby’s foot up on the bed and your ass in the hair as she drilled into your weeping pussy.

She pushes your back down, against the protests and your cries and your “Can’t Abs, so deep!” muttering for you to “Just fucking take it, sweet girl. I’m not asking.”

You give in and let her, already feeling yourself close to another animalistic style orgasm which only leaves your heart aching for your peeved neighbours that were probably just trying to sleep.

“You gonna listen next time, huh?” You don’t know how she has the endurance to keep slamming into you like this, wife beater pulled up above her sweat-gleaming abs now to not obstruct her vision of her creamy strap pounding in and out your soft flushed pussy. “You tell me when you fucking need me, yeah? You tell me when you’re feeling a type of way and you need me to reassure you from now on.” She waits a beat, and you wail. “Say yes.” She adds in command.

“Yeees!” You cry.

“Say yes Abby.”

“Yes Abby!”

You’re pretty much on autopilot at this point, brain so empty that all it knows is to do exactly what Abby says at all times, chasing that lingering tight coil in your stomach that whispered ‘cum one more time for her’ in your ear in a saccharine sweet voice that just about convinced you. Adding onto the persuasion, Abby’s weight dropped a little more onto you, hot torso against your back and hips grinding feverishly into you still. “Give me one more then. One more and that’s it baby. Keep being good for me.”

So you do, again, and this one is different from the rest — it’s your last drop, your last spot of energy. You’re weeping and grabbing and you feel it ooze out of you around the punishing blue plastic, and when you’ve done it Abby gets softer, kissing your spine and pulling out, so much praise your brain can’t even register it through your submissive fog.

“Did so good baby. So perfect, angel. Love you so much, my girl.”

She was cleaning you up before you could blink with a cold wet wipe from her bed side draw, practically scooping out endless amounts of your creamy arousal as you whimper at the sensitivity.

“Cold” You whisper, and you’re not sure if it was by choice seeing as you didn’t think you had a voice at that point.

“I know.” She chuckled, voice low and hands gentle— stroking the backs of your thighs as you stay on your front, legs trembling now as the adrenaline dwindles in your body. “Did so good for me. Let’s roll you over.”

She’s kicked off her jeans and her harness, now just in her boxers and wife beater— eyes flickering to your hands tugging at the jersey.

“Want it off. Wanna feel you.” You mumble sleepily once you’re on your back, desperately craving your skin on hers. She cradles your neck as she obliges, slipping the material up and over your head and pulling you into her.

You knew she carried on doting on you after you’d fallen asleep, and truthfully you don’t remember when you fell asleep — somewhere between her wiping you down and peppering kisses across your whole body — but like usual, her strap had knocked you the fuck out, and before you knew it you were waking up, disorientated by the morning sun flooding in through the blinds. Your senses start to arrive back to your body and you note them off like a checklist in your foggy brain. Touch, Abby’s arms locked around your waist. Sight, the blinding laser beam of sun attacking your eyeballs. Smell, Abby. Hearing, Abby. And the birds tweeting.

You roll, twisting in her arms so that your head was tucking beneath her chin against her chest, breathing her in and relishing in the way her skin stayed warm through the night like an electric blanket, unlike your own — cold to the touch from kicking off your side of the duvet.

She’s still fast asleep, always the heavy sleeper and after the game and the party you decide that big girl needs her rest, even if you’re now wide awake and staring at her. She looked like a painting, pouty lips swollen from a night of kissing, honeyed hair still in its braid but totally messed up now, pale blonde baby hairs sticking up and around her face. Her dark lashes kissed beneath her eyes and her chest moved up and down like the slow rocking of a small boat on a calm tide. You smiled when the sun slid further into the sky and created a beam across her eyes, making her scrunch them in her sleep and bury her face into the pillow.

You remember peeing last night now, before you’d fallen asleep — Abby carrying your warm, dazed body to the bathroom and sitting you on the toilet, letting you lean your cheek against her tummy to hold you up as you pee’d, gently shushing your complaints about removing you from the bed.

“S’not good for you to hold your pee after sex, babe.”

“M’sleepy. ‘Don’t care if I get a UFO.”

“UTI. And I care.”

You slowly slide out the bed careful not to wake your girlfriend, on a hunt for your phone. You pull Abby’s jersey back over your head for coverage and tiptoe out the room. Where did you put your bag again? You find it tossed on the couch haphazardly where you left it and fished through it, leaning on the back of her leather couch as you scrolled through. Your thumb tapped the Instagram logo and loaded it up, automatically gravitating towards Abby’s story, displayed at the top of the screen. You pressed it, expecting to see some kind of victory shot of her holding the trophy or a picture with her team, but instead were met with a photo of you that she’d taken when you’d fallen asleep last night— your head turned the other way on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Bare back glowing in the dim light of the room, bed covers resting at your waist. The caption reads: ‘Future WNBA wife.’ followed by your @.

Any other day you might gasp, due to the nature of the picture being that — well — it’s clear even to the untrained eye that you’d just been fucked within an inch of your life. But you grin, glowing from the inside out. She was showing you off, indirectly reassuring you even more because she knows you need it. You press a heart on the story, stepping in the direction of the bedroom to attack her sleepy face with kisses— but your eyes catch on the kitchen instead.

The perks of dating someone with such a buff body, was that they always would be stocked up on plenty of food. Not like your dorm, thinking back to the microwave meals and tins of soup stocked up in your kitchen made you grimace. You swung open her refrigerator door, gathering ingredients to whip her up a winners breakfast.

Having made everything from scratch, by the time the breakfast was nearly ready you’d heard Abby stir and climb out of bed, disturbed by the accidental clattering of pots and pans. The water ran for a while, and as you turned off the stove — removing her frying pan of eggs, you’d heard her heavy feet plodding into the room.

You nearly burnt yourself at the sight of her, sweatpants pulled up low on her waist, no shirt, red scratches from your overexcited claws the night before wrapping around her bicep and over her left shoulder, assumably trailing down onto her back, and her hair down — a little damp, falling messily across her small chest. You offered her a small smile as she took in the scene, looking very serious about it too you might add. Turning around back to the chopping board to prepare some turkey bacon for her you felt her crowd you. A shadow casted over you. You were suddenly smaller.

“Makin’ me breakfast? Was I that good?” She rasped, huge hands sliding around your waist — instantly dwarfing you some more.

“Mhm. Breakfast for a winner.” You chirped quietly, too early to be excitable.

“Really leaning into this whole housewife thing aren’t you baby?” She chuckles and your face heats up. Is it that obvious? She presses kisses to the side of your neck, hands grabbing you all over. Involuntarily, you arch your back— pressing your ass into her crotch and she winces.

You freeze up, knife clattering out of your hand onto the wooden chopping board and brows furrowing at the way her fingers tighten around your waist, lips by your temple now. You’re practically pinned to the counter, hands flexed wide on the smooth surface when you grind back against her again experimentally.

She’d never admit it, but last night had left her wanting, which she expected was selfishness considering she vowed to make it all about you. She pulled you back against her, your plush ass beneath just her jersey thumping against her clit again — nothing but that and the material of her sweatpants brushing up against her swollen button. You whimpered a little, not making it better for anyone and found your rhythm, rubbing and humping back on her, feeling her exposed tits against your back. “Like this?” You whine, and tug up the jersey so your bare ass is on display now, just a vessel for Abby to get off on.

“Just like that, pretty.”

The sight makes her push into you a little harder, bending you over the counter when there’s nowhere else to go. She continues humping you, leaning over you and kissing you, curling her toes against the tiles until she explodes into quiet, low gasps and groans— leaking into the grey material as you help her along with encouraging noises.

“Fuck babe, fuckprettygirl— my god.” She pants, leaning over you and pressing a kiss onto your back before tugging your jersey back down with a chuckle after a minute of panting and coming down. “Gonna put me back to sleep.” She gives your ass a loving slap, grabbing the flesh of it in her meaty hand before walking around you to lean against the counter top tiredly. You giggle, shaky hands getting back to food prep as she watches you with fond eyes. “How you feeling? All good?” She analyses, mind still on your series of mini freak out’s the night before.

Your eyes are on the turkey as you continue slicing shyly. “Sore. But all good.”

“Sorry baby.” Her thumb rubs your arm sympathetically.

“No I— I like it. Like feeling you the next day.” You don’t look at her, you can’t, but you know she’s grinning.

“Good.”

She disappears for a minute and reappears with her phone, scrolling, checking notifications. You begin to plate up her breakfast, feeling her hands wrap around your waist again, her phone held by your chest as her chin rests on your shoulder, leaning over you. “Your little friends saw my story of you. Think by now they get the message.” She smirks and you giggle, turning your head to kiss her on the cheek.

“I think so too.”

“If not, I’ll just have to make it clearer, yeah? ‘ll fuck you infront of ‘em if that’s what it takes.”

Your eyes widen as she backs off, going to help you plate up the big breakfast you’d made. You didn’t think that would be necessary anymore, feeling much more secure now but your achey, abused core twitched at the idea anyway— not totally against it.

You’ll pocket that for later.

[beloveds-embrace]

We need a part 2 to the Duke Dom 141, it was perfect. On that subject, I can very much imagine the Price would not be very happy at Grimes and probably fire him or let Kyle and Johnny handle him in some way simply because the duchess belongs to price and his lovers. No one else but theirs. I can see Simon having a lovely little chat with Graves as well and Graves gets all cocky and would like try to prove a point to the boys and act like him and the duchess would be better because “After all, she needs someone to do it especially if her own husband can’t” and it kinda strikes something in Price and he and the boys show the duchess what it would be like to be with them and the boys would all just woo her and give her gifts or even more of a special treatment and Graves becomes like an after thought in her mind and she just focus’ on the boys and gets with them completely forgetting about Graves.

… I just realized I was rambling, sorry my love have a good day😭

-💜-

First of all, never apologize for rambling omg i don’t mind at all 😭🫶🏻 have a good day as well lovely!

Second of all, YES. Graves absolutely does put his foot in his mouth and thinks just because reader’s loneliness and craving for intimacy means she’s interested in him enough to the point where he can mouth off to Kyle and Johnny more than usual, and mouth off to Simon and John while being a cocky little shit and if he does make that comment towards John or within his earshot he’s basically just giving them the gun to end his life faster lmaoooo

[girlboypersonthingy]

OMG BESTIEE can I pleaseee request Angel Dust x gn! reader headcanons about how they’re getting to know each other/open up? Like at first Angel was kind of indifferent to reader, didn’t really think much of them, but they ended up bonding and connecting really well and Angel just can’t stop looking at them like this 😍 and can’t help but be soft and sweet with them pretty much all the time. Mans is also so tempted to kiss them, often staring at their lips, but he wants to respect their boundaries too so he just tries to focus on being around them 24/7. THANKS SO MUCH BESTIEE I LOVE YOUR WORK🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

YAASSS BESTIE I LOVE ME SOME SPIDER TWINK 🩷🩷🩷 I love the idea of Angel being so horny and flirty and raunchy all the time but being softened and wooed by someone so much more innocent and romantic than him. Cuuttteeeee 🥹 enjoy, nonnie~

TW: Angel being a p*rn star, suggestive jokes, lots of swearing

Bonding with Angel Dust Headcanons 💖🕸️

Boy meets so many new people every day, he probably doesn’t even remember your name after you two meet. Like…he fucks guys and doesn’t even know their name first. He’s totally gonna forget your name for a while after you join him at the hotel.

“Good morning, Angel.” You mutter softly as you pass him in the hall one morning, your eye bags particularly prominent today.

“Heya! Good morning….uh toots!” Hes a bit taken aback, having not seen you until you spoke up. And he scrambled to find a simple pet name to call you bc he can’t for the life of him remember your name!

And this becomes a morning routine for you considering you lived in the same block of rooms as him and you pass each other around the same time every single day.

“Good morning, Angie.” You yawn as you pass him yet again.

“Morning, hun.” He forces a small, sleepy smile at you as he passes by, continuing his walk to the front of the hotel.

Angel comes to expect to see you every morning now, lowkey falling in love with your groggy, raspy morning voice and your bed head and your glossy, squinted eyes.

Slowly, Angel starts to become more friendly towards you, finally remembering and using your name to greet you.

He’ll totally start teasing you about your bed head and laugh when you try to smooth your hair out frantically.

There’s one morning when Angel walks into the hall and looks down both ways, confused as to why he didn’t see you yet.

Boy, does he flip his lid when he realizes he’s been standing in front of his door waiting for you to meet him in the hall for like 20 minutes.

It catches him off guard that…maybe he really likes you. Maybe he’s even…caught feelings?

Angel would probably panic a bit bc feelings? No, he’s used to one night stands and fucking for cash. Hes a party animal, a porn demon for fucks sake! How could he have feelings for you?

But nonetheless, Angel decides to go knock on your door. Maybe you just slept in today…?

Would totally find himself nervous asf bc 1) he just started to ponder the idea of having a little crush on you and 2) he’s never been in your room or even seen inside before.

Comes to find you’re sick that day! And gets sad bc he can’t start his day without his daily dose of you~

He would also totally not tend to you while you’re sick bc boy is scared you’ll see his true feelings for you. He wants to keep that under wraps for now. So he’d tell Charlie and Vaggie bc he wants someone to care for you still and obvi Charlie puts everything on hold to baby you and nurse you back to health. She’s too sweet, my teeth hurt.

Gradually, you two find yourselves together more often than not.

Sitting next to each other at the bar or during one of Charlie’s circle time, team building exercise things.

Finding each other in your rooms just to say hi and check in with each other and maybe even hang out

Angel isn’t shy about his line of work, as we all know. So you’re very much aware he’s a porn star. Hell! He’s even shown you one of his pornos before, bragging and gloating as you watch awkwardly, face tomato red bc fuck he’s so hot and now that you’ve actually seen him naked, you can not stop thinking about what his soft silky body would feel like against your own skin

He loves that you’re accepting of him tho, that you never judge him or give him any looks of disgust or contempt.

It might embarrass you to see him so…vulnerable but you’d never look at him in a negative light. You’ve just never watched a porno while sitting next to the porn star themselves.

Angel eventually gets comfy enough to start invading your privacy just a bit, asking you about your sex life, any relationships you’re in, what your life before was like, how you died and why you ended up here bc he thinks you’re too sweet and pure to be here

If you’re one to immediately open up, he listens but will accidentally interrupt you from time to time to tell you about his own life and try to relate to you.

If you’re not ready or willing to open up to him just yet, that’s cool! He’s gonna spill his guts to you anyways…and he hopes that him opening up to you first will make you want to do the same to him.

He tells you all about his past life, how he died, his regrets, the people he misses most, his shitty situationship with Valentino, about his bestie Cherri Bomb.

Once Angel realizes you’re trustworthy and a great listener, he comes to you often when he’s upset, in need of advice or just looking for a shoulder to cry on.

He doesn’t open up to others too often and will strongly uphold his cocky demeanor and his flamboyant attitude around the rest of the group at the hotel.

But you’re different…you always seem to find each other on your best and worst days to share your emotions with the other.

When Angel has had a particularly rough night on set, his body sore and his mind foggy and exhausted, he’ll barge in your room without knocking, flop down on your bed and shove his face in your pillows. He’ll probably shed a few tears into the fabric on your bed, silently and without letting his body shake. He doesn’t want you to know he’s crying, but you can tell. When he’s abnormally quiet like this, he’s usually crying and holding his breath as to not let any sobs sound from his mouth.

He’d inhale deeply, trying to calm himself by manually breathing but it’s not the air that soothes him, it’s the scent of you on the pillow case that fills his nose and puts him at ease.

He’d then pour his heart out to you, truly appreciating the fact that you’re such a good listener and you look at him with such soft expressions of empathy.

Angel is always willing to switch and be your shoulder to cry on if needed, but really loves when you have some good news or something interesting to tell him bc he loves when you burst through his door with a giant, dorky grin, yelling “BITCH GUESS WHAT?! I HAVE SOME PIPING HOT TEA FOR YA!” Before gossiping to him between laughs and dramatic faces.

I think once he’s come to terms with his romantic feelings for you, he’d start to get a bit more touchy. But not sexual touches…he actually really really enjoys touching when it’s parts of him that aren’t normally touched by others. Does that make sense?

He gets manhandled, fucked, roughed up and pushed around nearly every day so he’s used to being touched on his hips and torso, he’s become accustomed to hands firmly gripping his ass and his throat, he’s used to bitting and being bruised by the end of the day.

So when you gently caress his cheek or run a hand through his white, bouncy hair or link your pinky with one of his or gently rub his back as you pass by him, he nearly loses all composure.

You treat him so well, he’s really starting to fall in love with you and the innocent way you show your affection for him.

You can’t help but notice how his gaze has changed recently, how his face contorts completely when you’re around. Instead of his usual 😎😏💋 attitude it’s more like 😳☺️❤️‍🔥

What used to be cheerful smiles and playful nudges has turned to shy giggles and playing with each other’s fingers mindlessly as you sit together, not at all focused on the task at hand.

On several occasions, you’ve caught him staring at your lips as you talk to him. While it made you a bit self conscious at first, you slowly start to catch his hints.

Him staring at your lips, his smile becoming soft and sappy when you hold his hand for even just a second, the way he perks up and watches as you enter a room, the way he always wants to pair up with you or sit beside you during group time but closer than normal, the way you noticed a few clothing items of your were missing and one day you noticed one of your shirts sloppily tucked under his pillows.

He totally had a crush on you…and you did not plan on letting this go.

You confront him about the shirt hidden in his pillows as soon as you see it and his response is surprising. You’ve never seen this side of Angel Dust.

He’s bright red from his neck all the way to his ears, he can’t seem to focus his eyes on you, all his hands are frantically trying to find something to fiddle with on his clothing, he’s a stuttering mess, unable to form any full sentences.

He’s not used to all this sappy shit. But he’s loving it. Plz don’t stop.

Now’s your chance to tease him back, just like he always does to you. Go ahead, flirt with him, tease him about using your shirt as a pillow case, tell him your feelings too, that’ll help calm him a bit, to know that you like him back.

“Wow, who would’ve thought? Famous little sex demon Angel Dust has a crush on lil ol’ me? Aww, am I making you soft, babe?” You tease, watching him malfunction bc he’s never been flirted with so innocently. Like you’re not telling him in excruciating detail all the dirty, naughty things you want to do to him. Instead, you’re calling him sweet names and confessing your feelings as well and even poking fun at how cute he looks all flustered.

“Q-quite the opposite, actually.” He replied jokingly, still not letting his eyes meet your gaze.

You can’t help but laugh at his dirty response. Of course he would…💖

After some talking, maybe some boundary setting and talk of expectations in a relationship together, Angel might consider having a steady relationship with you.

He would love nothing more than a kind, caring, stable partner to come home to every night. Will you…plz be that for him? Baby boy needs cuddles and words of affirmation every day okay? Take care of him~

[thelov3lybookworm]

Lucien who now lives full time in the Day Court knowing the truth (think white robes and cold crown and makeup omg) and who has been in love with IC reader since getting to know her while he was there.

She's now visiting on some Night Court business (research, negotiation, etc.), and he's decided to put on his full Lucien teasing charm to woo her.

Sunlight in a Bowl.

Summary: Did he just... no. Of course not.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: I didnt realise how much i loved this idea until i wrote it 😭 thank you soo much my darling anon for sending in this request, i had soo much fun writing it lol, it was like it took no effort, came to me soo easy 🥹

also, posting this an hour early for funsies 🤭

i promised no angst so theres no angst @milswrites

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The day court was beautiful.

That was all Y/n could think of as a sentry led her towards Helion's private receiving chambers, all other adjectives having flown out of her head the moment Azriel had dropped her on the border of Day court, from where she'd winnowed herself to the palace.

The white houses, the red and gold roofs, the sunlight shining from above and reflecting from pools of water and the Palace right in the center of it all, the colourful market in the town square...

It was safe to say Y/n was ready to move to Day court, already having forgotten that she was here on a mission from Rhysand.

She was ready, bags packed, no questions asked.

So busy was she gaping at the beautiful architecture of the palace, the artwork reigning her in like some trick of hypnotism, she didn't realise the sentry had come to a stop outside two large oak doors.

Unfortunately, that meant she smacked right into his back before she realised.

Her cheeks blazing, Y/n stumbled back as she glanced up at the male, who had an amused smile on his face.

"I merely stumbled. My dress is a little long."

He nodded. "Never said you did not stumble. I believe it must be hard to walk around in your too long knee length dress."

Blood rushed into Y/n's ears as she looked down at the dress that... only reached her knees, realising he was right.

Fuck.

She cleared her throat, standing at attention, avoiding his eyes.

From her peripherals, she could see him grinning as he knocked on the door, waiting until a voice called out to let them in.

The male opened the door, holding it open for Y/n. She hurried in, resisting the urge to just die as he closed the door behind her.

So much for making a good first impression.

Y/n shook her head, trying to dislodge the lump now forming in her throat at the upcoming conversation.

Being an introvert and shy was a hard job, one Y/n was very good at.

But being introverted and shy while being an emissary? Now that was the job of someone that Y/n would consider god.

And exactly why Y/n had been so against the idea of her becoming an emissary when Rhysand suggested it, knowing she would rather live a life alone in the middle of nowhere and probably become the next Weaver than become an emissary.

Alas, she was the only researcher Rhysand had at his disposal, so now she had been sent to read through as many libraries and books in day court as possible to aid in Feyre's second pregnancy.

It hadn't been confirmed yet whether the babe was winged, but Rhysand and the inner circle thought it best to start researching in advance just in case the babe did have wings and to prevent the second pregnancy ending up the same way the first did, and this time with no one to save them.

"Y/n! Always a pleasure to see you!" Y/n met the warm honey eyes that belonged to Helion, a smile spreading on her face unprompted.

"Helion." She greeted, walking forward and directly into his open and inviting arms, squeezing him back when he wrapped his arms around her.

"I hope the journey was not too hard?"

Y/n laughed, pulling away. "All I had to do was winnow, Helion, why would it be hard?"

Helion grinned, then turned to glance at something behind him.

With horror, Y/n realised that it was not something, it was someone.

Her panicked eyes shot to Helion, remembering that Rhys said Y/n wouldn't have to interact with anyone other than the day court high lord.

"Ah Y/n, meet my son, Lucien. Though I'm sure you've met before."

Y/n swallowed, then let her eyes wander to Lucien. Which, definitely not a good idea, considering Y/n was suddenly drooling and looking away like he had burned her eyes.

She had only looked at him for a moment, but that moment was enough for Y/n to have taken note of how ravishing he looked.

Ravishing?!? Get a grip Y/n.

Y/n attempted to calm her racing heartbeat by taking deep breaths, trying not to think of all the golden skin on display that was not covered by the white robe, the gold crown adorning the head of fiery red.

Trying especially hard not to think about the way his skin glowed with happiness and the beautiful, flirtatious smile adorning those plush, soft lips.

"We- we have met before."

"That's amazing! So if introductions are not needed, I'll take my leave."

Y/n knew her eyes were bulging out of her head at this point, but she did not really care as she gaped at Helion's retreating back. She continued to stare until he reached the doors, then turned to wink at her like he was in on a secret she was not.

Bastard.

Y/n, not knowing what to do, glanced at Lucien, who, in the perfect son-of-bastard way, sent her a cocky grin.

Y/n glared at him at that, pretending like the blush on her face was because of anger and not because she was shy.

"I don't know if Rhys informed you, but I will be helping you out today with the research."

Y/n's eyes widened, staring at him like he'd claimed to have met the Mother herself.

Which, Y/n would have been less surprised to hear, but that was the talk for another day.

"I- no one told me."

Lucien shrugged, that infuriating smile still on his face. "It came up last moment when my father had to leave to handle some important matters."

Y/n nodded sadly, mentally encouraging herself that she could do this.

With a sigh, she gestured at him. "Lead the way."

•○🌑○•

"Are you hungry yet?"

Y/n reigned in her sigh of exasperation.

For the past hour, Lucien had been hovering around Y/n, bothering her with stupid questions and trying to get her to go somewhere else. Where, Y/n could not for the life of her figure out.

She glanced up at him, finding his arms crossed over his chest, a careless grin on his face as he leaned against the desk she sat at.

She also noticed how he stood a little too close to just be acting like a caring host, but she ignored it, just like she ignored the bulging, mouth watering muscles in his arms.

"I am sorry Lucien, but my stomach does not consider me worthy of food at the moment. I will let you know once it decides I deserve to eat."

He laughed at that, his head thrown back, his chest vibrating with how genuine the sound was.

Y/n's eyes dropped to the strong column of his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he glanced back down to her, grinning. Y/n noticed the dimple that made an appearance in his cheeks, but she pretended she was still mad at his constant nagging and turned back to the thick bound tomes she had open in front of her.

Y/n got a moment of reprieve before he drew her attention again.

But this time he did not ask her if she was hungry or if she was thirsty.

No, he pushed off from the table, and Y/n watched him from the corner of her eyes as he walked to the back of her chair.

She was curious, of course she was, but also glad that he would let her do her studies.

Also sad that he was leaving, but no one needed to know that.

But suddenly, two arms were caging her in against the table, and Y/n startled at the sudden heat of being caged against the wood by someone who quite literally had the heat of autumn court fire in his blood and the warmth of day court sun in his blood.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n yelped, trying to keep quiet in the library.

His breath tickled the hair at the side of her neck as he leaned in.

"I am just wanting to inquire when your stomach will deem you worthy of eating."

"Oh my god." Y/n mumbled, her blood tinting her face red. "Stop it Lucien!"

"Not until you tell me you will go out to eat with me. Tell me, will giving you the sun in a bowl convince you?"

Y/n only kept getting redder in the face, and to try to cover it up, she slapped her hands over her face.

He tsked. "That sounded like it hurt."

Y/n paused for a moment, then mumbled out- "It did."

He laughed again, and something about having him so close to her, so free and vulnerable did things to Y/n. She spread her fingers, peeking out to find his eyes closed, his teeth glinting softly in the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows.

She stared at him, slowly letting her hands fall into her lap, not realising she was staring.

Or maybe not caring.

His laughter slowly died down, the sound still ringing softly in Y/n's ears until it faded away.

He met her eyes, happier than Y/n had ever seen, and gave her a soft smile.

"So?"

Y/n sighed, the sound so exaggerated she would have laughed any other time.

"Fine."

For good measure, Y/n rolled her eyes at him before she turned back to the dusty tomes sitting on the rich wood desk.

She could practically feel his grin as he dipped closer, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Y/n's eyes flew wide, turning to gape at him as he straightened.

"So, a bowl of sunlight. In the receiving room before sunset?"

Y/n choked out an okay.

The bastard had the audacity to wink at her as he turned and strutted away, his careless demeanour already enchanting Y/n's malfunctioning brain.

She watched his retreating back until she couldn't anymore, then straightened to stare at the words that now made no sense to Y/n because she was so busy trying not to think about the plans she now had for the evening.

Did he just...

Y/n blinked, glancing once to the archway he'd just disappeared into.

Did he just ask me out on a date?

Y/n shook her head.

No, it was just not possible.

Lucien? Asking Y/n out on date?

Y/n wanted to laugh at herself for even thinking that. Lucien would never...

Fuck.

Despite herself, Y/n began to smile, and hope.

What have I gotten myself into?

It was going to be hurting her brain to think so much about it, but she couldn't care less about it.

Still smiling, Y/n returned to her work, now trying to stop focusing on him and start doing the thing she was actually here for.

It's going to be a long day.

•○🌑○•

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs @tele86

whore hive: @clairebear08 @readychilledwine @riddlesb1tch @berryzxx @thehighladywrites @artists-ally

[cinhomi]

Hear me out like dilf!Felix agenda or Minho as your teacher IDK-. My friend recently told me about the move Miller’s girl coming out soon and I’ve been thinking about just Minho as your teacher lmao.IDK HE WOULD BE SUCH A STONIC DUDE BUT LIKE WHILE YOU GUYS ARE ALONE HE WOULD BE JSJSJSJS

(May I be 🎀 anon jsjsjsj)

DILF FELIX 😵‍💫 TEACHER MINHO 😵‍💫 I want to caress your face and boop your nose. HOW CAN I FIT BOTH IN ONE ASK THAT WOULD BE 5K WORDSー I'll focus on teacher Minho but PLEASE come back with dilf Felix BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT HIM TOO OMG

teacher Lee Minho who is known to be this scary, strict man that has all kinds of stories about him being told from student to student in the corridors since he's very reservate and mysterious. he dresses formally, with cool and natural toned dress shirts, vests, ties and blazers. his pants always hug his tighs a little bit too tight when he rests on the border of his desk.

teacher... call him professor. professor Lee. he checks his expensive gold watch from time to time, and accurately displays his book, agenda and pen in a precise order. most students don't know they end up on the floor when he clears the surface for you to sit - or lay - on the polished wooden surface. he likes to be tidy and on time... so when he starts to be late to put down some papers in the teachers' room, or when he has to meet a colleague with his hair disheveled and his tie loose, well, it's only natural to be suspicious. but he's a serious man. he must have some trouble in his life... some trouble that he enjoys a bit too much.

professor Lee Minho who tilts his head to the side the first time he sees you, a puzzled expression on his face because he doesn't understand how someone so gorgeous, sweet and beautiful like you could exist. he doesn't realize it, but now when he's having a lesson in your class it seems like he's explaining things only to you, his gaze fixed on your shiny eyes that look directly into his, on your tempting lips, it drops a bit lower where he can see your naked legs cross under a flimsy skirt. he often comes close to your desk and looks carefully at your calligraphy, or to be precise, at your fingers holding the pen. he slowly starts wondering how'd they look wrapped around him.

he's known for being the most observant and smart professor of the institute so you can't really fool him, it's so obvious your cute little panties get wet when he smiles whenever you know the answer to one of his tricky questions, when he rests a hand on the smaller of your back when he has to pass beside you in the corridors, when he praises you for doing so good on his subject. everyone is starting to think he's got a preference... and it's so damn true. he doesn't alter your score, it really is admirable, your talent on his subject, but you're the only one he's never scolded or insulted somehow.

you're his perfect pupil, he holds you on the palm of his hand. it's not the first time he has students trying to fall into his favour, seduce him, but you... you don't do it on purpose, he has enough experience to know that. yes, you may stay up late to have the best score with him and him only, but you are so natural and obvious with your feelings, it's adorable.

he wants you all to himself.

professor Lee Minho who, after few months of seeing each other almost everyday, asks you if you want to stay a bit more after your classes so he can give you private lessons to go a bit more in depth with whatever topic you're studying at the moment. at first it really is like this, him sitting on his comfy, soft chair and you beside him on the chipped and hard one, swallowing your whimpers whenever your knees touch. oh you're so cute. you take coffees together, he brings you nice treats from the café he goes to every morning, after two weeks he promises to eat you out if all of your answers are correct. but don't worry, before making such promise he wooed you respectfully, with manners, like a true gentleman. before unbottoning your delicate shirt to fondle with your breasts to help you concentrate he did flirt with you to the point you had to get up and splash your face with cold water.

he loves it when you call him "Mr. Lee" in public, but when he locks the classroom he becomes "Min" or sometimes "Sir", or, other times, "Master". he even goes through the trouble of taking you to his place sometimes. Minho is a good cook, but you never eat much in those occasions.

he loves it when before starting the day you subtly give him your lacy panties and he has to sneak them in the pocket of his blazer. he can't help that mischievolous smirk from forming on his lips, knowing your perfect pussy is bare and ready for him if he wants to. and nothing will stop him from avidly taking the soft fabric to inhale your scent while palming his growing bulge everytime he's alone.

Mr. Lee also loves when he's correcting his students' works and you study while sitting on his lap, his lenght buried deep inside you. he likes to pat your head when you do a good job, but he also makes you choke on his cock if what you did doesn't please him at all.

professor Lee Minho that notices you scoff and sigh and pout when another student flirts with him, so when you two meet later he makes sure to fuck you like the good girl you are for him. he treats you so well, how can you be jealous? it's so, so obvious he's obsessed with you.

I see prof. Lee making you bend down his desk, his grip tight on your hips, under your skirt that jumps back and foward from his slow but powerful thrusts and your panties moved to the side. he's bending over your back, with his breath fanning on your neck, his lovely praises going straight to your throbbing core. I see prof. Lee making you sit on his pompous chair as he kneels for you and spreads your legs to dive his head in between them. I see prof. Minho using a ruler to tease your clit and your asscheeks. I see prof. Minho rolling his eyes in pure bliss as you ride him in the bathroom.

mmh... he eventually admits to himself that he fell for his student and has to switch schools to be able to take you out on week-end dates <3

I will write more about.

[hotheadedhero]

Just so you know I’m shaking your writing like a dog with a squeaky toy it’s so GOOD!!

Like seriously you write Raph amazingly you nail this big sweetheart so well! First Date is specially framed in my mind for me to stare at lovingly in awe there are SO many good parts to that story where do I begin?? 

Raph’s brothers roping him into a date? So accurate 

Leo whispering “fly my pretties” to a cage of dove?? This drama kid WOULD do that 

Raph catching his date before falling? WOO! We love our Red Angel of Preventing Harm! 

Raph buying his date some food after the near fall with the birds?? What a goddamn sweetheart! 

Raph lending his date his hoodie?? Where’s this turtles good boy certificate! 

Raph doing a little happy victory dance after the date is over?? Raphael is the bestest turtle ever and I don’t want him to ever think differently! 

Sorry if this is a little lengthy I just love First Date so much! I get such cutesy aggression with it it’s an adorable story and it’s definitely one of my favourites with Raph! I know it says requests are closed but do you have any other ideas in mind for Raph centred stories?? Could you maybe share any ideas you’ve got in mind? (If not that’s cool look forward to whatever you post next!)

I am... unequivocally floored, speechless, and brimming with such joy omg. This has brought tears to my eyes, thank you, I'm so glad you enjoyed First Date 😭🙏 And don't you dare apologise Anon! I love hearing lengthy thoughts about my writing as I'm sure plenty of writers do heheh

Genuinely, it took a lot of thought and I'm so happy to hear that all the ideas I put so much work into it paid off! It's pretty crazy to think how the end product turned out considering how many pieces were rearranged and some even scrapped completely. There's nothing quite like a story that just really gets it going for ya, so to hear that one of mine does that? Amazing!

And I would love to say that I have more of our big sweetheart being the friendly giant that he is but, unfortunately, not at the moment. There's a couple Rise headcanons in the works but that's about it. I do, however, have some other iterations of Raph that I'm trying to work on, though, so there's that! :)

Thank you so SO much again for this lovely feedback, you have no idea how much my heart has been reduced to gush rn

Love to you and everyone else out there! Stay beautiful <3

[paradlselost]

FIRST LOVE / LATE SPRING

Black Noir x Reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ woo angst ! Every time I listen to Mitski I think of him and specifically this song + I Bet On Losing Dogs - though the latter reminds me more of his s3 death. Anyways I hope you enjoy! I love my wife so much omg i would do anything for him one chance please please please please please 🙏

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬angst , depictions of wounds + burns , no happy ending . set in the payback era . 1.3k words .

A sigh falls from his lips, forehead pressed against your own as his fingers find their way up your arm and to your cheek. His touch is warm against the airconditioned room, his pretty eyes closed to soak up your presence.

He had committed you to memory long ago, every indent and curve found solace in his mind. He was never too far away to retrace you like some sculpture gifted to him by God. He is quiet, the knowledge that you would be in trouble if you were caught with him now, especially like this, weighed on his mind.

His helmet and mask discarded on the desk beside you, allowing himself to be open and honest with you and only you. He is yours, in this dark and empty room, because he can’t be out in the light of cameras and events. But he knows better than to complain about the situation you two have found yourselves in.

“Do you have to go?” Your voice is soft and it draws his eyes open to look at you, to take the sight of you in again and again, drinking you in like a glass of cold water in the scorching hot sun.

He says nothing for a long moment, what could he say? Reassurance is not something he can provide you with, not this time, at least. You look at him - hold him - like he is the greatest thing the world has to offer and it hurts to think you could do better.

You’ll be disappointed in him when he returns. He can feel it in his gut, the weight of his actions he knows he must take. You are the best of him, sprinkled into everything in his life and once he leaves he knows he has to shut you out to complete this. For the rest of Payback, for his superiors, for himself.

He is selfish, he knows.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s not my decision. Trust me, I don’t want to do this at all.” Half truths fall from Earving’s lips, little secrets kept from you that eat him up inside. What is he supposed to say? That he is both dreading and hoping for the day he can take Soldier Boy out?

He’s lying to himself just as much as he lies to you, that with Ben gone everything will be better; that he won’t have to hide and will be able to take a leadership role in Payback - maybe even get that role as Axel Foley that he would’ve killed to play. Some part of him knows, though, that Vought would never let him be anything more than the faceless, voiceless supe. That Ben is only a small fraction of the problem.

But he’ll do it for Gunpowder and the countless bruises and wounds Earving himself has had to hide from you, and he’ll do it for that poor kid that’s cursed with Soldier Boy’s blood.

He can hear the interview down the hall begin to wrap up, and he can tell you can as well by the way you hug him. Tight and worrying, it’s not the first time he’s had to leave for a mission like this, but it feels different. You can feel it in your gut, in your heart that the little white lies he’s been keeping from you are going to boil over, they’ll crawl their way out of whatever hell they’re locked in and grasp at his legs, overtaking him and pulling him down with them.

He knows you feel it, he can feel it too. Earving is not clueless to Voughts practices; and in the very real event of his death he knows they’ll tell you something vastly different than what really happened. That he was a hero, that Noir saved many soldiers and innocents in his effort to stop whatever force overcame them. It’ll be vague, innocent like and he knows you won’t question them to their faces. He knows it won’t help any grief, he knows you’ll know it’ll be another white lie that’s killed him.

“I should go, they’re probably waiting for me.”

“Just a few more minutes…”

“Sweetheart…”

“Come back okay. Don’t - don’t leave me here without you.”

“I’d claw my way out of the deepest pit of hell just to get a chance to kiss you again.”

His words, while sweet, leave a bitter taste in your mouth, even as his lips meet yours. You know in your heart he is not just saying that; that someway that’ll be what he does - claw his way back to you.

And all over again you lose him to the mask and the cameras outside the room, to the cold and unfeeling demeanor he puts on display. Eddie Murphy, Soldier Boy, Black Noir. The cameras shine on them, broadcast them to the homes of billions. The script is sacred, his gloved hand giving a small wave before he walks over to the other members of his team.

Nicaragua. Vietnam. Commies and Capitalists. Farmers and the soldiers sent there to die for the rich. He is not better than those men in their helmets and boots, he is nothing more than a dog in a fight that is not his own.

And there isn’t a call, no man in a suit at the door with papers, no courtesy because you’re not even married. No, the television is the most information you’re given over the weeks he’s gone; and the only way you found out about when he came back. Why would Vought bother to tell you when they could broadcast it?

Payback Returns; Soldier Boy Fallen in Battle and Black Noir in Critical Condition.

The world mourns the loss of their Nazi fighting hero, the man who has been a staple of childhoods for years, someone to be looked up to and admired but you can only cry for Earving; can only push past the security guarding Vought’s medical bay and get yelled at by doctors just to see him.

God, how the scars run up his body. The right side of his face is covered in burns, the top of his head shaved in the area around his stitches and despite his eyes being closed you can see the bulging in one of them.

He is broken, like a small stuffed animal a bad dog had decided to make into a toy. Stuffing falls from his ripped apart limbs, a button eye missing and part of his ear chewed off. He is damaged, but he is still here, and you can stitch him back together good as new. You can love him so hard his other button falls out, hold him till his stitches come undone and he falls apart all over again in your arms.

But he is afraid when his eyes open. He cannot settle back down into the little apartment you both call home and you know this, you can feel it in your heart. He won’t look at you with his good eye when you manage to get him out of that godforsaken mask only to turn around and find it back on.

He is not your Earving anymore. That part of him is left in Nicaragua, in the half of his brain lying on the compound ground cooking in the sun. You were the best of him, now there is nothing left but Black Noir. And you didn’t fall in love with the preformative hero he was now.

So, it’s not surprising when you wake up and he is not next to you in bed, when he is not home at all. At first, some part of you hopes he will come back, but you know that is simply wishful thinking.

Earving is gone, and just like that day you only get to watch Black Noir through the screen. Just like everyone else.

[aesthetic-uni]

Okay Arcane Season 2 Final reaction -Episode 7

I am freaking the FUCK out

In case anyone is wondering, Jinx is my favorite, I want happiness for her, don’t get me wrong I love all the others but if she’s not happy by the end of this you won’t ever see me again

Opening vinyl-I literally stopped breathing ID THAT EKKO AND JINX AGSJRBLDJ?!?!

My king Ekko, where have you been all this time. Please come home we miss you

EKKO?! And is that little drawing Jinx??

OH ALTERNATE UNIVERSE TIME BABEY so many fanfics are going to go off this I can tell

EKKO!! He looks so handsome and alive!!! (My hopes for these characters ARE VERY LOW AS YOU CAN TELL)

Jinx looks so cute!!!

BENZO!! Oh my fucking god is this going to be a Happy Universe that NONE OF THEM ARE GOING TO GET?! I’m going to throw myself off a cliff.

Oh my god no one ever address Ekko’s trauma with Benzo I’m so glad they’re doing it THAT WAS HIS DAD!!

This is cruel. This is just cruel how DARE they give us a happy au

No Netflix I will not skip the intro fuck off

AAAAW EKKO NOO SEEING EVERYTHING THAT COULD HAVE BEEN

God Jinx looks SO CUTE I need so much fanart of her

Ps I know this is technically Powder, I’m too lazy to constantly switch names so Jinx

Also does she have a pink streak in her hair? I don’t like the implications of that

Aaaaaw they’re partners :((((

MYLO AND CLAGGOR HOW FUCKING DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU OH FUCK OH GOD

Wait omg “Trouble in paradise” TIMEBOMB?!

I have gotten through THREE MINUTES OF THIS SHOW

Oh that cute Jinxer is here woo! Lmao Mylo is so real.

Aaaw Claggor he’s trying to help the city and he cares about his little sister AND HOW FUCKING DARE YOU ARCANE

AAAW JINX TRYING TO HELP MYLO FUCKING HELL ARCANE

“WHAT WOULD THEY DO WITHOUT YOU” JESUS CHRIST ARCANE

Okay this isn’t funny anymore where’s Vi

Okay but is it OUR professor?! (I can’t spell his name)

IT IS!!

Okay but WHY what’s happening with Jayce?!

VI VI VI VI VI

OH NO JAYCE WHY CANT HE BE HAPPY TOO?!

Ooooh his HAMMER is why he got sent to the apocalypse au huh

Is that evil Viktor. Is that the Machine Herald? IS IT TIME FOR GLORIOUS EVOLUTION?!

Wow I was just joking with the apocalypse au but it really was it huh?

Aw I like that Jinx kept her workshop

Is that a heart. Around a picture of them. IS TIMEBOMB ACTUALLY CANON IN THIS UNIVERSE?!

Wait, is this THEIR WORKSHOP?!

FUCK I KNEW VI WAS GOING TO BE DEAD GOD DAMN IT

Oh this isn’t happy at all :(

OH FUCK THIS ISNT HAPPY AT ALL

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SHOW ME THAT HOLY HELL?! OH MY GOD THERE WAS NO REASON FOR SHOWING ME THAT

Way to hammer it in Arcane for no fucking reason other than MAKING ME CRY YOU PIECE OF SHIT. LIKE I GOT IT. VI IS DEAD IN THAT UNIVERSE. DIDNT NEED TO SHOW ME HER SIBLINGS REACTING TO HER DEATH

GLORIOUS EVOLUTION HORROR

Oh god not doomed Timebomb IN THE FUCKING HAPPY AU

Poor Jayce just has to fucking go through it huh

Wow that is an understatement.

Okay but MelJayVik crumbs ILL TAKE IT

YEAH THE PERSEVERE JAYCE!!!!

NO STOP MAKING ME CRY WITH THE HAPPY AU

There’s not much I can say with Jayce other than holy fuck this poor man

God they could have been partners. They could have been the brightest minds in all of Zaun. They could have been HAPPY. I fucking hate this show why would you show me this. I’m never going to recover

HE BROKE TIME BABY!!! FOUR SECONDS BACKWARDS LETS GOOOO

God they are so in love. God this is going to kill me

Oh my god the fanartists and editors are going to MURDER me with the “Do you think we together in every universe” trend aren’t they?

SILCO?! ZAUNDADS CANON?!

Ekko hold on. EKKO HOLD ON.

Oh my god this reference to season 1 episode 4 how fucking dare you

HOW DARE YOU MAKE TIMEBOMB CANON LIKE THIS?! AURRRGGGHHHH

Ripping my hair out. Clawing my eyes out. Beating my chest until it caves in. This is everything I could ever want. HOW. DARE. YOU.

I love them. I love them so much. Why would you do this to me.

IM GOING TO BE FUCKING SICK

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

Yeosang, Seonghwa, Wooyoung, Yunho, San.

Reader is a brat, but loves to be dommed.

San and Woo can be needy little brats and whiny

Yeosang and Yunho can be hard doms and be all aggressive, with them taking turns holding you so the others can overstim you or w/e, do nasty things.

Seonghwa can be a switch, soft dom cooing at you and taking care of you.....

omg please, you started this!!! You heathen I love you 🤍💜🤍

ησт нσω ιт ωα�� ρℓαηηє∂

▪️ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ : ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜱᴀɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ʏᴜɴʜᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

▪️ɢᴇɴʀᴇ : ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰɪʟᴛʜ.

▪️ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇ/ᴀᴜ : ᴇꜱᴛᴀʙʟɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ꜰᴡʙ (?)

▪️ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ....

▪️ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 2.93k

▪️ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : ꜱᴜʙ ʙʀᴀᴛᴛʏ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ʟᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ꜱᴜʙ! ꜱᴀɴ, ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ʟᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴍ! ʜᴡᴀ, ʜᴀʀᴅᴅᴏᴍ!! ᴡᴏᴏ, ʜᴀʀᴅᴅᴏᴍ! ʏᴜɴʜᴏ & ʏᴇᴏ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴍxᴍ[ᴡᴏᴏꜱᴀɴ], ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴘʀᴀɪꜱɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ, ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx, ᴀɴᴀʟ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱʟᴜᴛ-ꜱʜᴀᴍɪɴɢ, ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ [ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢɪʀʟ, ʙᴀʙʏ, ᴇᴛᴄ], ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ,

▪️ᴀ/ɴ : ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ᴏʜ ɢᴏꜱʜ ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ! ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴅᴏᴍ ᴡᴏᴏ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴋ ᴡʜʏ

▪️ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ : @azriel-owns-my-heart @taehyungisminee @kitten4sannie @cherryxsang @k-drizzle @kodzukein @yvyvluvr @michel-angelhoe @kbitties @babygurl-hoshi @hellokittyslnt @ate-ez @main-shoota123 @magnificentdestinytaco @shegotboreddsoo @hafsyy @luxvatz @zinnichong @anyamaris @confusedmoonchild777 @chewyhotteoks @mrcarrots @lemonhongjoong @https-minhoe @scuzmunkie @kpop-stories-21 @flowerboykun @thelargefrye

▪️ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ : @cultofdionysusnet

▪️ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ : ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴛᴇ/ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ᴍᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛ & ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜰʟᴀɢ

ɪ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ @anyamaris ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Being so bratty was going to get you in trouble one day, and that day was definitely today. You, Wooyoung and San decided it was best to chill at their house with Yunho, Seonghwa and Yeosang. You were currently over sitting on the couch, plopped in between Wooyoung and Seonghwa. The room was dark, the couch was big enough to look like a bed for all of you. The TV screen flashed the horror movie which was soon coming to an end. You felt a hand creep up to your neck, the thick long fingers prettily sitting against your skin. You turn to your right to see the culprit of your sweating having his eyes fixated onto the screen, "Woo, what the fuck are you doing, take your hand away from my neck. You know I'm sensitive there."

Your eyes narrowed when you notice the way his plumpy lips curl up in a smirk. "Shhh" His lips silently shush you up, his warm breath making goosebumps spike up on your skin. Seonghwa notices the way you were squirming in your place and his eyes dart to the gap between you and Wooyoung. His eyes glint with curiosity when he sees his lips moving, whispering something into your ear, while his hands oddly pressed the back of your neck.

But soon all three of you were pulled out of your trance when the bright light from the TV screen, lightened the room, the big words 'The End' showing boldly. San and Yunho, who turn around to burst out with comments about the just finished movie immediately notice the beads of sweat that rolled down your forehead. "Y/n-ah are you okay? Why are you sweating so much?" Yunho decides to speak up, concern obvious in his voice while San decides to make a whole new joke out of it by adding, "Maybe she got too scared by the movie, damn Y/n didn't know you were a scaredy cat."

Your face heats up in embarrassment, and you try to get back at him but before you could do that, Yeosang adds in. "Yeah, such a shame Y/n, didn't expect this from you." A mocking chuckle escapes him followed by a loud laugh from Wooyoung and San. The brat in you was definitely not going to tolerate this, "Kinda bold coming from you, Yeo" Your sassed him back wiping the little smirk which danced on his pretty lips right off his face, "Oh you're going to regret that." Yeosang's voice drops octaves deep, sending shrills down your spine. Yunho's eyes finally notice the hand that stayed on your neck, continuing to press at the back of your neck.

Finally realising the reason for your sweaty nervous state, Yunho bursts into a laugh. "Who knew that our little Y/n was so sensitive?" Yunho speaks between his laughs, his words confusing San too much. "Wait what?" San questions completely unknown to what he was speaking, while Yeosang's eyes wander to Yunho for an answer too. Yunho just raises to his feet walking over to you as Wooyoung detaches his hands from your neck, moving away to watch Yunho with curious eyes. Yunho leans down making his face be just inches away from you, "Little miss here was getting all worked up over having Woo's hand wrapped around her pretty neck."

His hands raise themselves towards your neck, his fingertips tracing your soft skin slowly, before wrapping tightly around your neck out of the blue. And loud moan quickly erupts from you making San and Seonghwa's eyes open wide. "Aww look such a painslut daring to talk back to me." Yeosang now walks over to your side, making you get surrounded by the three men who stared down at you hungrily. Yunho's hands detach themselves from your neck but your breath hitches at your throat when you feel Wooyoung's hand slip down the short skirt you wore for the night.

"W-Woo w-what-" A slap was immediately delivered to your face by Yeosang which makes a gasp quickly escape your throat. Your eyes wander off to Seonghwa, and you find both the other men sitting next to each other, watching you intently as they resisted from palming their obvious bulge. Wooyoung's thick fingers pressed against your heat, rubbing circles on your clit. "How about you shut yourself up huh? Fucking painslut." Yeosang's deep voice rasps in front of you while Wooyoung smirks as he rubs your clit harsher and faster.

"So fucking wet for us, you like that? You like Woo's thick fingers rubbing your clit huh? Such a slut for pain." Yunho spats at you, his eyes staring at you with intensity, as his hands come up to latch on to your neck yet again. "Not really- Woo- aren't you too soft- AHH" You are cut off by a scream that erupts from your throat when Wooyoung's thick fingers lock between your hair strands and tug at your hair harshly making you jerk back. His hands give your clit a hard spank making you moan loudly. "What was that now little girl? You don't want this? We can all leave you here, desperate and begging."

You quickly realize your mistakes when the words leave his mouth and your stomach flips at his nickname. "S-Sorry Woo, please want all of you, p-please" All the three of them chuckle mockingly at your whining state making you whine further. "So desperate for us aren't you? How about you earn it like the good little pain slut huh? Why don't you suck Yunho off and We both will think about rewarding?" Yeosang's deep voice speaks next to your ear, ordering you as you scramble to get on your knees in front of Yunho.

"You better impress us little girl, or you aren't getting either of our cocks tonight." Your back shudders from Wooyoung whispering into your ear. Yunho towers tall over your kneeling figure as you're face-to-face with his obviously big bulge. Your eyes wander off to the other two guys to find Seonghwa nowhere next to San but you couldn't care less when your eyes fell on San's angry red cock with precum leaking as he jerks his cock slowly.

You are instantly pulled out of your trance when you feel Yunho's long hands slap your cheek, not too harshly followed by Wooyoung's thick fingers tugging at your hair harsher than before. "I told you to fucking focus on sucking him off little girl, or do you want both San and Yunho's cock thrusting into your slutty mouth?" "Of course she wants that Woo, look at the way she's drooling over them, our slut is never satisfied enough is she?" Yeosang adds in after Wooyoung mocks you from behind.

Your hands move up to palm Yunho's obvious big bulge making him groan at the way your hands constrict around his stiffness. Your fingertips slip into the hem of his trousers and pull them down in desperation. Yunho's hands swiftly push off the boxers as his long length springs out almost whacking your cheek. Your mouth drools at the sight of his leaking red tip, and your tongue instantly darts out to lick his tip softly. Yunho groans when your eyes meet his, his cock almost twitching at the sight of your hazy eyes.

Yunho's hands lock with your hair strands and tug at your hair harshly, and his hips twitch in place as he thrusts into you. His hands tug at your hair harder making you gag around his long length. But that definitely doesn't stop him from thrusting deep into your mouth as his dick slides in between your flattened tongue and the roof of your mouth to the back of your throat. "Fuck such a tight throat, gonna fuck your mouth so hard, kitten." You moan around his length, the nickname sending tingles to your vagina as you rub your thighs together.

Your cheeks hollow around Yunho's long length, making him groan from the intense pleasure as he fucks thrusts harder into your throat. You squeak loudly in confusion when you feel Yunho's large hands grip your hair, tugging you off his cock roughly. You feel Yeosang's large hand grip on the back of your neck, making you whimper loudly. "Why don't we help Sannie baby? Wanna suck him off don't you?" You nod slowly at him before you slowly crawl towards San, and plop yourself on the floor in between his thighs.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his glistening cock, and your eyes instantly glint with lust and need. A warm breath falls on your ear shell and long slender fingers place themselves on the back of your throat gently. "Go on princess, Suck Sannie off for us alright? We'll reward you soon." Seonghwa whispers into your ear softly, making your breath uneven at his soft deep voice. Your hands wrap around San's cock slowly, your fingers sliding over the veins over his cock. Your hands slowly start to move up and down before you lean in to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock softly.

A loud whimper instantly escapes his throat and he lets out a loud squeak when he feels a large hand wrap around his tiny neck. And your eyes fall on Wooyoung who plops himself behind San who has his back leaning against his chest. The loud squeak instantly sparks the man's attention, "What a surprise? Guess our Sannie likes to be choked too." Wooyoung whispers against his ear, his hand tightening around his neck making him let out a whiny moan. "Yea? You like that? You like getting choked? You wanna be a painslut too?" Your cheeks hollow around his length, coinciding with Wooyoung's hand tightening around him yet again making his cock twitch in your mouth.

Your hands continue to slide up and down while you bob your head up and down his dick. Your tongue flattens over his base, the feeling of every vein and ridge of his cock under your tongue instantly makes the wetness pool between your thighs. "You're doing so good for us baby, gonna reward you so good so soon princess" Seonghwa praises into your ear making your eyes roll back as you suck harsher around San's cock. Wooyoung's lips kiss up San's neck, nibbling at his sweet spot. His lips instantly curl up when he hears the loud moans and whines coming from him. "You're close aren't you, Sannie? Wanna cum into her mouth don't you?" San whines from his dominant tone, his hands grip desperately onto his jeans before letting out a squeaky 'Yes'.

"Then go on Sannie, Cum inside her mouth, make a mess on her." Just as those words escape his throat, San's cock twitches hard in your mouth, bursting ropes of cum inside your mouth as he fills you to the brim. Tiny tears wet your eye lashes when drops of his cum escape from corners of your mouth. Out of the blue, you are tugged harshly off his cock and you whimper from the harshness. You are immediately pulled into Yeosang's strong arms and his hands make you straddle his thighs as he plops himself on the couch. His hands rip off your panties without any warning and his fingers prod at your entrance, rubbing around your hole before shoving themselves into you harshly. You barely have time to realize what is happening when Yunho's long fingers shove themselves inside you. "Go on baby, suck on my fingers like a good slut. Suck on it like it's my cock."

You cry out loudly when Yeosang curls up his fingers inside, thrusting up your hole at an insane pace. Your walls constrict around his thick fingers and you scream around Yunho's fingers, your saliva dripping down your chin and wetting the shirt you wore. Yeosang's eyes darken at the sight of your drooling mess and his fingers fasten their pace making a muffled scream resonate through the room. "Look at the way you're drooling over us little girl, you're so close to coming aren't you?" You manage to nod through your stiff neck, and Yunho's free hand travels down to his aching boner which was left abandoned minutes ago. His long fingers jerk his aching sensitive cock, sliding to and fro his base as he groans from the pleasure. Your hips shudder slightly from the pleasure building up in your abdomen, your eyes tearing up slightly while your pussy clenches around his fingers.

You moan loudly around Yunho's fingers when you feel yourself getting closer to your edge and Yunho's hand fastens its own pace around his cock, letting out muffled grunts. And before you know it, you're cumming hard around his fingers, your mind going blank from the bliss of pleasure. And your eyes tear up slightly, your body shaking convulsively on his lap, and you gasp loudly when you feel hot liquid shoot at your ass only to realise it was Yunho's cum painting between your ass. "Y-Yeo, too much-" Your cut off by your own scream when you feel familiar large hands grip your ass from behind.

Wooyoung buries his face into the crook of your neck after taking Yunho's place as he moves away to take a breath from the orgasm he just had. "Oh yeah little girl? You want us to leave you high and dry here?" You're swiftly pulled out of your trail of thoughts from his next words, "N-NO, Woo want your cock please. Yeo, want your cock in me too please, its n-not too much" You whine desperately making both the men chuckle mockingly. "Such a greedy slut aren't you? Want both of our cocks huh? Are you sure you can take it baby?" Yeosang mocks you, his hands coming up to push the stray hair strands out of your face.

"I-I can t-take it, p-please want your cocks please" You cry out lowly but your instantly cut off by a gasp when you feel something poke at your asshole. Your eyes watch Yeosang's movements as he unzips his pants and pulls his rock-hard length out in a swift move. His hands grip your hips and slowly lower you on his cock while Wooyoung manages to shove the tip of his cock into your tight hole while you scream at the overstimulation. "W-Woo, slow p-please." Your words escape through a choked sob as Yeosang lets you adjust to his size. You could feel every vein that decorated his cock against your inner walls making you cry out in desperation. Your hips move slightly only for you to halt in your movements when you feel Wooyoung shove the base of his length inside you without a warning.

"W-WOO" You scream when the pleasure mixes up with the pleasure, and his hands come down to spank the flesh of your ass harshly. "Stay still for us little girl." You nod in defeat and you are instantly caught up in a surprise by Yeosang's sudden harsh thrust into you. A moan gets caught up in your throat when Wooyoung slams his cock into you slightly, groaning when your tight hole clenches even more around him. Your eyes close shut from all the pleasure as Yeosang starts to piston his cock up into you with all his force. But your eyes open immediately when you feel something poke at your lips and you're met with Seonghwa's angry red tip. His hands pet your hair softly, as he leans down to peck your forehead softly.

"Suck me off pretty girl, gonna take my cock like a good girl aren't you?" Seonghwa whispers into you while Yeosang's cock continues to thrust up deep into you. You nod obediently, wanting to behave for him as you wrap your lips around his pink tip and your tongue darts out to collect his precum slowly. Your sultry eyes look up at him, before you wrap your mouth around his base, sucking him hard. Seonghwa groans immediately, throwing his head back in pleasure. Yunho and San spread their legs, both of their hands wrapped around their rock-hard dicks, jerking themselves off. The room is filled with the loud grunting and moaning with the lewd noises of skin slapping resonating against the walls. Your moans only ever get louder when Yeosang and Wooyoung thrust into you with rhythm as their cock hit deep into you at the same time.

"G-Gonna C-cum" Your words are muffled by Seonghwa's dick thrusting into you at a faster pace. Your screams around the base of his cock send vibrations up his chord, making him groan loudly. You clench tightly around Yeosang's length which never halted their movements, your inner walls constricting around him making him curse under his breath. "Fuck such a tight cunt, you're gonna cum all over my cock aren't you babygirl?" His deep voice swiftly sends you over the edge, your pussy throbbing from the overstimulation while you cry out loud. Their cocks definitely not stopping from thrusting into you, in fact, both the men fasten their pace into you making your juices leak out and make a mess on your thighs and his.

Wooyoung's hands suddenly grip your ass harshly, his nails digging into the soft flesh as he thrusts faster into your tight hole. His cock stretching you out more than ever. Yunho and San groan at the sight of your glistening dripping pussy, their hands jerking at a swifter pace. You could feel a trail of saliva flowing down the corner of your lips while you don't halt on sucking harsher on Seonghwa's length. Yeosang's hands grip your thighs, his groans get louder with Wooyoung cursing loudly from behind you.

And within a few thrusts their dicks stimulate your sweet spots making your brain go blank from everything. Seonghwa's cock twitches inside your mouth while your pussy clenches yet again around their dicks before squirting all over them. And soon enough you could feel both of them empty themselves inside. Your moans barely come to a halt when you feel Seonghwa's cum shot deep down your throat while he groans loudly, cursing as he throws his head back again. And soon in a few seconds, you heard Yunho and San curse loudly as they orgasm hard onto their hands and onto the floor. Yunho pants loudly as he leans back, taking long breaths while San closes his eyes from exahaustion.

Seonghwa pulls his now-soft cock out of your mouth slowly, while Wooyoung's arms wrap your figure, supporting your exhausted body. Yeosang and Wooyoung finally pull out of your abused holes and Yeosang's hands come down to massage your sore numb thighs, his behavior instantly changing into a caring mode. He leans down to peck your lips softly, before pulling away and giving you a soft smile. You shriek loudly when you feel arms wrap around you, only to let out a relieved sigh when your eyes meet with Seonghwa's soft features. "Let's get you cleaned and give you a lot of cuddles princess, you were such a good girl for us today."

Okay was the ending rushed?? Idk omg, I hope this came out good, my first ever gangbang fic y'all^^

©️ wooyoungmybelovedhusband. All rights Reserved. Do not repost, report, copy or steal any of my works.

[cheollipop]

Hello!! sleepovers fuck yeah i love sleepovers~ firstly CONGRATS on 2k 🥳 the idea of sleepovers makes me feel so soft so my submission would be pure soft loveydovey fluff!! (ot8 ateez ensemble/poly! fem reader)

the idea of (f) reader being sick and unwell and all of the boys scramble to make her feel better and comfort you but it’s also utter chaos because they’re all trying to be the best boyfriend taking care of you! at the end of the day you end up comforting them too and you all end on top of eachother all cuddling watching tv and being affectionate (members that dislike skinship just finding comfort next to everyone)

just picturing them all trying to take care of you in their own way- woo trying to make favourite soup, jongho serenading you quietly, san stroking your hair, seonghwa cleaning you up when you’ve been sick?? like the list goes ON and on for them!! but also them interacting with eachother the competitiveness- the protectiveness acting like you’re dying when it’s literally just a flu 😭

so soft for them🥹

~id also SO be down if some nsfw love making etc was sprinkled or suggested like bathing together and taking care of ALL your needs ygm~

will be bundled up in my blankets all cozy to read your work, hope you enjoy writing it i know i’ll enjoy reading it🥰 mwah

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

omg bunnie hello!! you sent me this beautiful ask so now we're on a first-name-basis tyvm (and you get a tag). "my submission would be pure soft loveydovey fluff" you didn't lie!!!! this is so so SO cute omg, and the way I'm coming down with a cold rn too,, the universe practically sat me down and told me to write this or else. ahem. anyway, I won't lie, I was a bit stuck trying to figure out what to write for this one bc the fluff part is so beautifully written as it is;; so you get smut!! and I'm feeling like a little tease, soooo... hehe sorry~ ^^ thank you so much for your kind words!! I really hope you enjoy reading~ mwah <3

pairing: park seonghwa x fem!reader x jung wooyoung

w.c.: 0.7k

tags: smut, fingering (f), praise, some teasing, pet names, soft doms!woohwa, but seonghwa's in charge ^^, and he cares more about your health than what you want ^^

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

Blunt nails scratched at your scalp, shampoo suds slowly making their way down your temple as Seonghwa worked them into your hair. A damp patch spread through the thin pajama bottoms where you’d been leaning back against his thigh, his body propped up at the edge of the porcelain tub. You sank your body further, chin dipping under the warm water with every exhale, a whine on your lips as skilled hands disrupted the bubbles around your crotch.

Kneeling on the tiled floor, Wooyoung worked your cunt under the veil of floral-scented foam, two fingers pumping bathwater into your heated walls while he took in the breathy noises leaving your mouth.

“Something wrong, love?”

Seonghwa’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, walls squeezing around the digits fucking into your g-spot with practiced ease. “Hwa, please.”

“You asked for this, didn't you?” He teased, massaging the spot behind your ears with his thumbs.

“No,” you whimpered, “wanted you to fuck me, please,” you rutted against Wooyoung’s palm, trying to create friction over your clit.

“And he said no,” Wooyoung—head tilted in amusement, his eyes focused on the progressive shifts in your expression—reiterated Seonghwa’s earlier instruction, scoffing at the angry leg kicks creating soapy waves around your immersed figure.

“Darling, you’re sick,” the older man tilted your head upwards to meet your narrowed gaze, leaning down to press a kiss to your heated forehead, lips pausing over your skin before pecking it once more and moving away as he straightened up. “I’ll fuck you nice and full once your fever goes away, how’s that sound?”

An exhaled laugh blew out of Wooyoung’s nose, the effect Seonghwa’s words had on you evident in the tight squeeze around his fingers. You nodded enthusiastically, eyelashes fluttering while he peppered a few more kisses over your temples and nose, only for your attention to be drawn back to the man at your side, head snapping towards him as he began pistoning his fingers into your cunt with restless vigour.

“I’m the one making you feel good, pretty girl, pay attention to me,” Wooyoung cooed, his free hand cupping your face, thumb tenderly caressing the highest point of your cheek while the fingers stuffed within your drenched pussy guided you towards the steep edge of your orgasm.

“Woo, please, ngh- I’m,” your spine arched against the porcelain, the pressure in your lower belly growing hastily and your pussy leaking hot slick into the tepid water.

“Come on, darling, show me how hard you’re gonna come on Youngie’s fingers,” Seonghwa’s honeyed tone reverberated in your ear, delicate hands kneading into your tense shoulders.

Your hips lifted off the tub to meet Wooyoung’s thrusts, his fast-paced rhythm shifting to deliberate glides of his fingertips over your sensitive gland, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm crashed through you, your body floating off the edge while Wooyoung guided you through it with mumbled praise. Plush lips planting kisses over your damp skin, a warm stream of water washing the floral shampoo out of your hair while you spasmed under the two men’s touch. Your voice—hoarse and broken—echoed between the tiles, persistent fingers languidly stroking your walls as you came down from a mind-numbing high, reaching between your quivering legs to paw at them until they left you stretched out and empty, clenching around nothing.

It took you a few moments to take in your present state, to register the deep breaths in the steamy room as your own, to feel the rough washcloth wiping off the layer of sweat glimmering over your skin, another set of hands kneading the flesh at your hips to ease the trembles shaking your figure. You sighed as you relaxed back into the hard surface behind you, eyes only fluttering open when Seonghwa broke the comfortable silence, lips parted and hand loosely clutching the cloth near your breast, the hard length of his cock throbbing against the back of your head.

“My good girl,” he smiled, eyes brimming with lust as he took in your limp, fucked-out form. “‘Gonna get better quickly, or will I have to fuck you back to health?”