#there’s so many good moments tell me if i missed anything
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ts-janus-rp-blog · 2 days ago
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Remus chuckled at hearing that squeal. He washed the rest of his legs, then he stood back up so he could pull Emile into a deep kiss. "Dammit, when you make that noise I just wanna fuck your brains out. I love it when you make that noise so much." He blushed, "I'm not nearly as wonderful as you are, ems."
"Got it. I'll get it arranged in no time. Oh, it definitely will! So many people across the world will be willing to pay big bucks for those videos, that's for sure!" The man shrugged, "You can do whatever you want, that's just my cup of tea..." He suddenly chuckled, "Or should I say, my cup of coffee?" He lifted up his coffee cup.
"I know if I do anything like that to Roman you'll have my neck for it. I'm not willing to sign my death wish just yet. And don't worry, I'll make sure it's just me doing the procedures. There won't be anyone else in the area." He snorted, "I just know to not act stupid. Most people don't think before acting, but I do." He nodded, "Thank you though, sir. Thank you for trusting me." Then he thought about it for a moment, "Would it be possible if I can do the exams tonight, by any chance? The only reason why I ask is that I just know I'm going to be busy dealing with Remy and Remus. I would rather get it done and other with, you know?"
His eyes light up when Virgil reconsiders, a sickening grin spread across his cheeks. "Well, I can tell you right off the bat that it's going to be extreme. Very extreme. But I'll do it your way, with just bondage. But thank you, I'll do it to one of the mutts that are brain dead. It's not like we're going to miss one of them, right? If the hypnosis doesn't work, there are other methods I can try that's not...extensive. but I understand, that's what I want to avoid too. Mhm..." He chuckled, "I would love to send a video to Remus of the men having fun with his mutt. That'll scare him for good, won't you think?" He smirked, "Actually, I can do that without waiting to see if anything works... I could test the hypnosis on him afterwards too, to make him forget it even happened."
Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.
{@moralpuppylover2}
Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.
So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-
He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.
"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.
@moralpuppylover2
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alewritesfics · 2 days ago
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Bridging Realities
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VI. 𝕭𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌.....𝖙𝖔 𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖞 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Word count: 1k
Warnings: unedited, slow burn, eventual smut/ spicy scenes, some angst but happy ending, playful banter
A/n: sorry for the long wait but small chapter before we get to the good parts hehehehe 🫣
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“oh, you’re here” you say as you saw Anthony step into the room where Lady Danbury had orchestrated a poetry reading “Miss Sharma will not like this” you chuckled
“Who cares what Miss Sharma thinks?” Anthony said as he approached you, a playful expression on his face.
“you if you plan to woo her sister” you state “I take it you decided not to give up then” you take a bold leap of faith and loop your arm through his as you pulled him towards the main room where everyone was
“Why should i?” He asked
“Because her sister is so against the match?” you hummed “I have told you, if there is many a things against it, perhaps you should set your eyes elsewhere…”
Anthony scoffed, though he didn’t pull away from your touch. If anything, his arm tensed beneath your grasp, like he was weighing the sensation of your hand against the words you had just spoken.
“And where, pray tell, should I set my eyes instead?” he asked, his voice dipping into something lower, something unreadable.
You glanced up at him, feigning indifference even as a strange fluttering stirred in your chest. “That is for you to decide, Lord Bridgerton,” you said smoothly. “But if a match is met with such resistance, perhaps the wise thing to do is to—”
“Give up?” he cut in, his gaze sharp as he turned to look at you fully. “So you have said, multiple times, in fact”
You faltered slightly, surprised by the intensity of his expression. There was something almost challenging in his eyes, as though he were daring you to say it again.
You inhaled, composing yourself. “Yes,” you said, steady. “If one must fight so hard to make something fit, perhaps it was never meant to be.”
Anthony’s jaw clenched. “And yet, some things are worth fighting for.”
“Are they?” you mused, tilting your head as you both came to a slow stop just before the threshold of the main room. The soft murmur of conversation and poetry recitations filtered toward you, but the tension between you and Anthony made everything else fade into the background.
His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, he seemed to hesitate—as if debating whether to say what was truly on his mind.
“You are quite determined to see me fail in my pursuit of Miss Edwina,” he said at last, his voice quieter now, laced with something almost teasing. But beneath the playful lilt, there was an edge—one that made your breath catch.
You smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I only suggest that a man should know when to walk away.”
“And yet, you hold on to me now,” he murmured, glancing down at where your arm still curled through his.
Your fingers twitched against his sleeve, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the closeness between you. The warmth of him. The way his scent—something crisp and faintly spiced—lingered in the space between you.
Slowly, deliberately, you unlooped your arm from his. “That was merely to escort you, Lord Bridgerton,” you said, voice light, though your pulse was anything but steady.
Anthony’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if trying to unravel something he couldn’t quite place. Then, with a knowing smirk, he straightened.
“Of course,” he said smoothly. “Then by all means, lead the way.”
And with that, you turned on your heel, stepping into the main room.
“Pardon me. Lady Danbury?” Anthony said as you both stepped into the room
“Lord Bridgerton, I did not expect you” Lady Danbury said surprised
“No, I seem to have fallen off the guest list” he said, I chuckled as I wandered away towards where Eloise and Penelope where behind the couch Miss Edwina was sitting on “Surely you would never deny a young man you’ve known for nine and twenty years the pleasure of your company?” he smiles
“Apologies, Viscount, you appear to be late again” Kate interrupted him “We were bringing the evening to a conclusion –“
“Surely Miss Edwina has time for one more?” Anthony said, looking at Edwina “I spent the whole evening crafting something, an original, would you like to hear it?” You scoffed under your breath, making Penelope hit your arm softly, you give her a sideways glance before looking in front when Anthony took to the front of the room
“What is it –“ he cleared his throat “truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty, so much that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honor-“ he looked up
Your heart fell slightly as you saw him glance at Kate “ to hon-“ he crumpled up the paper and threw it at the fire “My apologies. I cannot do this. I cannot claim these words as my own, they’re someone else’s entirely” his eyes then caught yours
You gave him a nod encouragingly “ Truth be told, I’m not-“ he sighed , his eyes leaving yours “I’m not a man of poetry. Words of flattery are beautiful and sweet, but they are also hollow, unless accompanied by action”
“Miss Edwina, I could stand here, and pretend to be someone I’m not” he looked at her “I could pretend to want the very same things as you, but I’d be lying. I may not be able to, offer the display of passion, that you truly deserve. But I assure you that when it comes to action and duty, I shall never be found lacking. And I hope that is what will speak louder than any pretty words ever can” he bowed his head before he stepped away towards the refreshments table
You were about to follow after him but you saw Edwina approach faster. You stayed rooted in your spot, your gaze stuck on them as they conversed. You saw Anthony raise his eyes after some time, his gaze first going to the right of you, where you knew Kate stood before meeting yours.
You felt sick as he gave you a small triumphant smile but you returned it nonetheless.
You had done things to try and change the storyline, to move his gaze towards you and in the end, you can’t help but feel that he’s still slipping away from your grasp, still very much stuck on marrying out of duty…
Or is it that he’s getting stuck on the woman that he’s supposed to be with?
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Taglist:
@talkativecarnation
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@stopeatread
@smartiepants217
@magical-spit
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boybandbaby · 3 days ago
Text
The Sweet Escape Part V
911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)
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previous part
word count: 4855
warnings/tags: smut (18+ minors please do not interact), cheating/homewrecking, unprotected p in v, biting, riding, slight nipple play, light choking, cream pie (I wish I had a baking joke to go along with this)
note: not sure when the next part will be out - haven’t planned past this chapter yet
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
It’s been weeks since you’ve seen Buck and you truly miss him. You wonder if he misses you too. You’ve heard through Albert who’s heard through Chimney who’s heard through Maddie that Buck has been compliant lately. No arguing with his parents, actually learning King duties, helping out with the wedding.
You hope he’s doing well despite everything. Even after you heard him say that you mean nothing to him, his is still everything to you.
You beat yourself up everyday for pushing him away so cruelly. You tell yourself it is justified because of what he said.
You begin to replay your conversation with Chimney and Eddie from just last week.
“He’s miserable. He misses you so much.” Chim informs you.
“Did he tell you that?” You raise a brow and cross your arms over your chest.
“Well no, but I mean I see it on his face. You have to reach out to him.” Chim follows you as you move to sweep some crumbs off the floor.
“Guys, I appreciate what you’re doing but he’s getting married in a few days.”
“He should be marrying you. Everyone knows it.” Eddie says matter of factly.
“There’s nothing that can be done.” You sigh in defeat, handing Albert the broom to place back in its holding place.
“You could always object at the wedding?” Albert adds.
“Yeah right, the queen would have my ass.” You laugh. “She’d get the bakery shut down as punishment.”
“Maybe that’s true but you could still be there for him. He needs a friend.” Eddie shrugs.
“He has you guys, Hen, Bobby. He doesn’t need or want me around.”
“You can’t possibly believe that.” Eddie sasses.
“I heard him say it.” You blurt. “He said I don’t mean anything to him. He didn’t even know I was in the room when he said it.”
“It has to be a misunderstanding. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Chim leans against the counter, stealing a croissant from Albert.
“You should’ve heard all the whispers at the ball. Girls were jealous of the attention he was giving you, some of the parents thought you were already together. You both looked good together.” Eddie utters.
You feel your cheeks and neck get warm before turning your head down, trying to find something to busy yourself.
“Just… think about it. At least send him birthday wishes.”
There’s two soft knocks on Buck’s door. He groans, thought he told Eddie to go home to Chris.
Buck’s had a long day. He’s met so many different people, allies in which he should remain connected and respectful for future support. He’s taken a few classes on public speaking and history and a dance class for the wedding. He’s just gotten back from a charity event, while rewarding and eye opening, he’s ready to call it a night.
He chooses to ignore the knocks, shedding his blazer and shoes off. Two louder, more impatient knocks ring out.
“What the hell?” He grinds his teeth, suppressing a groan. He storms over to the door, whipping it open with force. The door is heavy but with his determination, he opens it up quickly, enough to create a gust of wind.
Your back is turned to the door, keeping an eye on the hallway and also ready to book it out of there. You jump when you feel the cold air and hear his annoyed tone. “What!?”
It’s quickly followed by a “Y/n, what are you doing here?” He is shocked to say the least. His voice comes out more soft than just moments before.
“Hi,” you whisper. “I wanted to see you.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about you.” You admit, shyly.
Buck looks around the hallway and pulls you into his room before anyone can see. You’d surely be in trouble if you were caught.
You’ve never been in his room before. You’ve never really been anywhere other than the kitchen and the ballroom before either. His room is somehow exactly as you’d suspected with a 4 post king size bed, long silky drapes, ceiling to floor windows, a fireplace, a leather couch. What you didn’t expect was for the little unique parts of him throughout. The pajama pants thrown onto the messy bed, a pair of slippers laid beside his bed, a cork board with a variety of pictures of friends and family, and a little bed side night light. The items seem so out of place in the grand aspect of his room.
Buck runs to tidy up a bit, hoping he’s not embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m sorry. I haven’t let anyone in here to clean in a while.”
“It’s no problem. I stopped by unannounced.” You swing the basket in your hands. “Your room is bigger than our entire apartment.” You laugh, mouth open in awe as your fingers run along the back of his couch. “You have a balcony?”
Before he can answer, you’re running to the set of double doors and out into the night air. From his view you can see the layout of the land, from the yard around his home to the rows of trees that cover the path leading down to town. You can see the roofs of the familiar buildings you’ve grown up around.
You have to squint to really make out things but it still looks beautiful amongst the dark blue sky.
“I used to come out here a lot when I was younger. I would just sit and watch the sun rise and fall every day.” He leans over the railing a bit.
You keep a fist wrapped in the back of his dress shirt as he leans too far over for your liking. “You don’t do it anymore?”
“Don’t have time.” He shrugs, eyes flicking to the basket in your left hand. “What do you got there?”
“Oh! Um,” you set the basket on one of his lounge chairs and kneel down. Your skirt bunches up as you slink down to your knees. He loves that you don’t care about the balcony dirt getting on your skirt. It’s something so simple but it shows who you are.
He briefly thinks back to his fiancé and the meltdown she had this morning when one of the servants spilled a cup of coffee on the floor causing droplets to fall on her heels. Buck had to apologize for her outburst.
He watches you take out a small box. It’s wrapped in makeshift wrapping paper from a brown paper bag tied with a silky pink bow.
“Come here.” You beckon him over.
He’s in dress pants so he can’t get down to the floor unless he wants to further embarrass himself and split his pants. He sits on the chair beside your basket. “I know I’m early but happy birthday.”
“Wait, you remember my birthday?”
“Of course, it’s like a city wide holiday.” You laugh. “Plus you never shut up about it when we were kids. I know it’s not much really, but it’s from my heart.”
He unties the bow and pulls the wrapping off. Inside is The Finest Flour’s signature baby blue box, a clear window showing the little cake you made for him. It’s a small two tiered heart shaped cake, sage green frosting with white swirly accents. On top is a sparkly “25” in fondant.
“You made this for me?” He exhales, his eyes glossy.
“Yeah, I figured I’d make you a good cake with flavor since your wedding cake is bland as fuck.” You laugh. You only know because your bakery has been requested to make the wedding cake with specific instructions to “make sure it’s moist.”
Buck sets the box down and looks down at you. “Y/n, I-“
“You don’t have to say anything, Buck.”
“I do. I’m so fucking sorry. When I said you meant nothing to me, I didn’t mean it. You have to believe me.”
“How do you know that is why I was mad?”
“I figured it out surprisingly. I know I have a reputation for being a himbo but I’m not that dumb. Also, Hen helped me realize.” He chuckles.
“You’re not dumb at all.” You shake your head, “just not the smartest.” He snorts at that and doesn’t argue. “You know Chim and Eddie must really love you. They came to the bakery saying they wanted to visit Albert but the entire time the kept vouching for you like they were you’re lawyer or representative or something.” You shake your head with light laughter.
“I know you keep getting hurt by me and I don’t want you to. I would never want to hurt you y/n.” Buck reaches for your hand. You let him hold it.
“I know, Buck. You’re not like your parents or all the rich douchebags around here. You’re sweet and soft.”
“You think so?” He blushes.
“I know so.” You smile up at him. “How’s the wedding coming along? Sometime next week you’ll be married.”
“Let’s talk about anything else please.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes follow his movements before he slowly pulls away. “So, how are things with you and Albert?”
“It’s going really well.” You smile, hands falling to your lap. “I love having him around.”
“I’m really happy for you y/n, he’s a great guy and I know he’ll treat you right.”
“Wait.. what? We’re not together!” You laugh, “no, I mean he’s been really great help for the bakery.”
“Oh… tha-that’s good. I’m sorry I assumed.” He breathes a sigh of relief. You both smile softly at each other. Buck bites his lip while you shake your head, laughing to yourself.
“Well I should probably head out. Don’t want to get us both in trouble.” You reach your hands out to him, he stands and helps pull you up. “It was good seeing you.”
“Yeah.” He nods quickly. He uses your locked hands to pull you into him for a hug. His arms wrap around your upper back. You don’t hesitate to wrap yours around his waist. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” You pull back slightly. You decide you can only hold back slightly, your feelings for him are clearly still here and urging you to make a move. You know he’s an engaged man, soon to be married but you can’t seem to care.
You bring your lips to the apple of his cheek. Your lips are smooth and slightly sticky and scented with your favorite chapstick. You keep your lips there long enough to hopefully leave the ghost of the kiss there when you leave.
Just as you’re pulling away, youre stumbling backwards at the desperate force of Buck’s lips on yours. Before you can trip on the rug below you, his hands hold you in place. His hands are splayed over the sides of your neck as he pulls your face into his. The kiss is hot and cradles every part of your body, spreading over your skin. It feels like you’re in a sauna despite the cold air filtering in from the balcony.
Buck’s hands travel down to your hips as your steps mock his own, long and slow like a waddle, until you’re backed up against his bed.
“Jump.” He commands, voice low and light. When you do, his hands on your hips guide you up onto his bed. His bed is high up on its platform, definitely accommodating his tall height.
His bed is squishy and soft, like a cloud of cotton candy. He wastes no time in unbuttoning his dress shirt, a thin white tshirt under it.
He stands between your legs, holding into your thighs as you take over. You’re pulling the fabric from his shoulders and letting the shirt drop to the floor.
Buck undresses you slowly, savoring your scent and leaving kisses on your shoulders.
He lays you back onto the bed, pushing you up to fully enjoy the expanse of his mattress. His lips plant a kiss to your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, then your lips and chin.
He’s been respectful up until now, eyes glued to your face. Not until you say “keep going” does he give your collarbone a kiss and let his eyes roam your chest.
His body is planted on top of yours, with enough room between you both to move, he trails down your shoulders and chest, not missing any inch of skin.
Buck is licking and kissing down the slopes of your breasts, over your stomach and down your left hip. You’re squirming and giggling at his lips and growing stubble. He sucks marks down your inner thigh to the inside of your knee before he leaves a kiss.
“God, you smell amazing.” It’s a mix of sugar and cocoa powder on you. “I could just eat all of you.”
“Eat me or eat me out?” You look down at him as he runs a hand down your calf, kissing your ankle.
“Why not both?” He smirks.
“Maybe another time, I need you.” You pant. His kissing has worked you up, never having experienced a partner shower your entire body with love.
Buck stands at the edge of the bed, slipping his pants and socks off. His tshirt is next to go, thrown on the wooden footboard of the bed.
“Are you sure about this?” He asks, just in his boxers.
You sit up on your elbows to look at him. “I am. Are you?”
“So sure.” He smiles before shimmying his boxers down. He disappears for a moment as he bends down to take the boxers off his feet.
When he comes back up, the next thing you know is that his full weight is on you as he’s resting on his elbows. One of your arms is wrapped under one of his arms, your fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. Your fingers get caught in his curls but he doesn’t mind the little tug that happens every so often.
You’re getting restless under him as all he’s done is kiss you. His kisses are intoxicating but you need more.
“Buck,” You mumble against his lips.
“You need more, baby?” He whispers into your ear.
“Yes, please.” You shudder.
“Tell me exactly what you want.” He teases. You can’t think straight, you thought his kisses left you dizzy but then he called you baby.
“I want you inside of me.” You whisper, afraid someone other than you two will hear how bad you want him.
Now that Buck is sure you really want this, that you’re consenting to this, he nudges your thighs open. His hips slightly fall closer to the mattress as you make space for him.
“I need you to tell me when things don’t feel good or you want me to stop.” He holds his cock in his right hand, stroking gently while his left is holding him above you.
“Okay, okay.” You rush, feeling impatient. “Please Evan.”
Buck uses the tip of his cock to find your entrance. It’s not a perfect hole in one as he runs his tip along your folds. He can feel your body tense and he knows he’s at the right spot.
“Don’t tease me.” You warn.
He laughs, dropping his head to your shoulder. He pushes himself into you. It’s a slow stretch due to his size.
Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. You’re holding back, not wanting to hurt him. He has a different idea as his teeth sinks into your shoulder. It’s not too hard but there will definitely be indents of his teeth.
It feels like forever when he finally gets to the base of his member.
“How are you feeling?” He kisses the teeth marks.
“Full.” You laugh. “But good, really good.”
“Can I move?” He kisses the skin right in front of your earlobe just above your jaw.
“Yes, please. Been waiting for so long already.” You whine.
“Needy.” He jokes before pulling his hips away from yours and thrusting back into you slowly.
He starts slow and picks up the pace at your begging. Your hand goes back to pulling at his curls, the other is wedged between your bodies, fingers applying pressure to your clit. With every thrust, he feels your knuckles brush against his happy trail. His left leg shakes uncontrollably each time it does.
Your hand cramps from the position but you don’t stop, moving slowly in circles to keep building on your high.
He’s kissing your neck and shoulder, changing from simple pecks to sloppy kisses to sucking. His lips graze your jaw every so often sending a moan from your lips. He’s smiling against your skin, teasing you with his stubble. He loves the reactions he’s getting from you.
You’d never expected Buck to be a guy who enjoys and is good at slow sensual passionate sex. You’d always picture him as a guy who fucks like a jackrabbit, rough, fast and sloppy.
“I love feeling you on me.” You confess. “Every part of you feels so good.”
“Can’t believe I’m with you right now. Could spend hours exploring every inch and crevice of you.” He whimpers. “I love you, y/n.”
“Buck-“ You gasp, his hips pounding into you. You feel the tip of his cock hitting the same spot over and over.
“I do, I’m so in love with you.” His eyes are screwed shut.
“Evan, look at me.” You say between moans. Your bodies rock up and down and you’re clinging with sweat. He lifts his head to meet your eyes.
“I love you, too. So much.” You don’t even have the chance to smile because his lips are on yours again. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer, which you didn’t think could be possible.
“Holy shit, don’t stop.” You moan, your fingers are about to give out, clit practically burnt off by how fast you’re brushing your fingers over it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Buck mumbles into your neck. You don’t say anything out loud but you can feel his tears, dripping down his cheeks and pooling on your neck.
“Come on, handsome. We’re almost there.” You encourage. That’s all it takes for him to release. His hips stutter and he lets out a noise that’s similar to a groan, mouth open in an “ah.”
He clings to your shoulders, arms between your back and the mattress as he holds you tight. He has no control over his hips as he brings you to your high.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod.” You screech, thighs squeezing his hips as if you’re cracking a walnut. Your toes squeeze and flex, tickling his skin. His nose runs along your cheek as you whine out a long moan. “I-“
You can’t even get a word out as you shiver the tenseness out of your body. Your body goes slack, releasing his body. You laugh, completely overwhelmed by what just happened, not sure how to communicate your thoughts.
Buck just watches you with fond eyes, savoring this feeling. You shake your head, blinking. When you’ve come out of your haze, you meet his eyes.
Your thumbs brush his cheeks, damp with tears. “You okay?” He sniffles, giving you a nod. “Good tears?” He nods again. “Come lay beside me, wanna cuddle you.” You kiss his birthmark. Buck slowly pulls out, blowing out a breath of air and hissing when he is fully out of you.
He scoots himself into your side, head resting on your bicep, thick thigh thrown over to cover your lower half. One arm is squished beneath him and his other massages your hand. He feels the tension in your hand, milking out the forming cramp.
“You’re making me feel all tingly, Buckley.”
“You make me feel loved, y/n.” He bypasses your compliment. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.
“You deserve all the love in the world. Not because of your good looks or because you come from a well off family but because of your heart. You care so much about others.” You drop his hand to your chest, brushing aside his curls from his face. “I can’t wait for you to be King. You’re going to use your big heart to better not just yourself but those around you.”
“What if I don’t become King?” He whispers, his hand traveling up to your neck, running his thumb over your throat.
“Then what would you do?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.” He reveals. “I love kids. I would love to be able to help shape them into good people you know? Provide a safe space for them to grow and express themselves.”
“You’d be good at it. You’re patient and you make people feel welcome. When we first met, we’d never even spoken but you started speaking to me like we knew each other all our lives. You make people feel comfortable.”
“You think I could do it?”
“I know you could.” You smile. “Stay here.”
You pull your arm from under his head and grab the closest clothing item you can find. You press it to your chest to cover yourself. You tip toe over to the balcony to grab his cake.
“Should we try some?” You struggle to keep yourself covered as you hold the box on one hand.
“Ooh yes.” He claps before pulling part of the comforter he’s on, over his lap. He pulls a pillow under his head and upper back. You hand him the box and get a running start to jump onto his bed.
He’s laughing as he opens the box. You’d hoped he would want to eat with you so you’d provided two forks.
You cheekily pull the blanket off his lap and sit on his thighs. You pull the cake out of the box and rest it on his stomach like a table.
It’s almost his birthday and you want to spoil him while you have him. You give him the first bite of the cake. The moan he makes around the fork has you squirming on him.
“You know what? Forget the cake.” You rush to get it off of him and onto his nightstand.
Buck tucks his arms behind his head. He’s sprawled comfortably on his comforter. He watches as you lean over, pushing the cake to a comfortable spot where it won’t fall off.
You lean down to kiss him, cleaning the frosting off his lips. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, biting it and dragging it open.
Buck sucks in a breath. “Let me take care of you.” You whisper against his mouth. He nods slowly, lips chasing yours as you lean back.
He’s just about to whine when you begin to suck on his neck. You creep down to his chest, not wanting to leave any noticeable marks. You decide to run your tongue over his pecs and close to his nipple. He curls in on himself, giggling.
“Don’t tickle me!”
“I wasn’t trying to!” You pinch his nipple.
“Okay, that was just mean. It’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me.”
“Oh? I have to?” You pinch his other one and he squeals. “I’ll be nice from now on.”
“You better.” His arms are crossed and his hands are covering his nipples from any further torment.
You start up again, kiss down his tummy, sucking the skin as you get lower. Buck is trying to stop the little spasms his body does every time you kiss him. He’s rock hard again in no time, hand lazily coming to stroke himself as he watches you shower his thighs in hickies.
“What do you want to do birthday boy?” You look up at him, though it’s hard with the stroking that’s happening in your line of vision as you try to look at his face.
“I wanna kiss you a little more.” He beckons you to come back up. His right hand strokes as his left hand comes to rest on your hip. His moving hand is tucked under you, continuing his movements as you lean down over him to kiss him.
Buck whimpers into the kiss and has to bite his lip to stop himself from making pathetic noises. He loses the battle when you ask if you can ride him.
In seconds, he’s lining himself up for you to sink down. His grip on your thighs helping guide you down onto him before going back behind his head. You both moan in unison at the feeling. Your pussy easily sucks him in this time.
His comforter pools around your thighs and calves as you slowly start to grind on him. The material caressing your legs with every move.
Your hands stretch across his abdomen, grounding your every movement. Your hips roll and roll as you fuck him. Buck relaxes into the bed, hands behind his head, simply watching the way your eyes scrunch with each forward thrust you make. Your head is dropped forward, your chin tucked almost to your chest.
Your movements are slow and rhythmic, calculated.
“You look so fucking hot.” He moans.
“You feel so good.” You cry out. “Love how you stretch me open.”
“Keep going baby, you’re taking me so well.” His voice is husky and breathless. “Don’t stop, please.”
Your hips speed up, causing Buck to flinch and buck his hips. His hands shoot out from behind his head to grip your hips as you begin to topple forward. His hands clutch to the fatty skin between your thighs and hips as he pulls you forward and back on his cock.
Your hands hold onto his outstretched biceps for stability when you begin to change from grinds to bounces.
“Oh shit.” Buck whispers through a soft gasp. “Right there.”
“Yeah?” You puff, exhaling deeply. “You want me to keep going?”
“Yes, yes please don’t stop.” He pleads, eyes droopy. His mouth opens but nothing comes out as his neck strains. You can see a vein on the side as he throws his head back. “You’re perfect.”
You put pressure onto Buck’s chest with your hands as you slam down into him. He’s close, that much you can tell by the way he whimpers and tenses.
“You look so fucking pretty like this, Evan.”
His entire chest is flushed red and he has a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He’s glistening under you. Your orgasm is near as well, his trimmed hair tickling your clit with every move.
“Shit shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He thrusts up.
“Me too, handsome.” You moan, bringing your hand to his throat. You give it a gentle squeeze as you both ride out your highs. Buck’s given up any control as you watch him release.
Your orgasm comes quick and you clench around him, slowing your hips. Before you can come to a full stop, he’s wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you down to him.
You squeak and fall onto his chest. “Babe, hold on. We’re all sweaty.”
“Don’t care, just want to hold you.” He mumbles. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too. Happy birthday, pretty.” You kiss his temple and slowly pull from him. You feel like a piece of tape, struggling to get out of his arms and skin sticking to his own.
The breeze from the open doors soothed the hotness in your body. You’re still trying to catch your breath as you begin to collect your clothes.
“Stay the night?” He sits up, resting on his elbow and reaching for your hands.
“Buck, we both know that’s not a good idea. As much as I would love to stay, we don’t want to get caught.” You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles. You let his hands go to get dressed.
“When will I see you again?” He gets up from the bed and slips on a clean pair of boxers and his pajamas pants.
“Soon, I promise.” You pull him into a kiss by the waistband of his pants. “Have a great birthday.”
He nods and holds a hand onto the back of your head, bringing his lips to your forehead. You’re both smiling like idiots as he opens his door.
“I’ll walk you to the kitchen.”
“I’ll walk her to the kitchen, goodnight Evan.” You both jump at the sound of Athena’s voice.
“I-“
“Goodnight.” Athena emphasizes and looks between the two of you.
Buck nods and gives a small wave. His hand squeezes your shoulder and moves up to cup your neck before he’s closing the door.
“You best get back home y/n, before someone else catches you.” She kindly scolds. You can see a faint smile on her lips as she escorts you through the palace and to the kitchen. “Don’t make this a habit y/n. I won’t always be around to save you and Buck.”
“Yes ma’am.” You bite your lip and get your bike started. She watches you drive off and shakes her head with a laugh.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
next part (coming soon)
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softlypaintedseafoam · 19 hours ago
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🍓ー thank you for your patronage at the strawberry witch's bakery! here's your order!
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requested by: @chibinasuu 🍓-> sanji + strawberry lemonade (secret relationship)
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Punk Hazard is an inhospitable place.
It's been so for years even before Kuzan and Akainu's climate changing fight that permanently made the place the near-barren wasteland it is now. Here in the cold, freezing half of the country, the wind is biting and your fingers are numbingly slow. With your face pressed into the crook of Sanji's neck, you can't find it in yourself to care you forgot to wear your gloves.
It's Sanji.
Truly living and perfectly alright Black Leg Sanji of the Straw Hat Pirates.
The smell of cedarwood and vetiver have never smelled so sweet, you breathe in his scent once more in spite of the snot dripping from from your nose. Two years. Two long miserable years and you're finally touching one another.
It wasn't enough for Tashigi to tell breathlessly tell you that the Straw Hats had been spotted in the Sabaody Archipelago, descending to the depths to Fishman Island. You could only count the days that G5 could run into them. The Fates must have took pity on me, you sniffle, chuckling wetly as Sanji holds you closer to his chest.
Caesar Clown has been taken care of, the children are safe and for now, even if for a moment, pirates and marines can be allies. You won't delude yourself into thinking that even with this truce that your comrades will be understanding. It's more than a betrayal, isn't it? Even with that knowledge, you can't bring yourself to care.
Black Leg Sanji is alive and in your arms; that's all that matters. It doesn't matter that you're a marine and he's a pirate, sneaking behind the backs of your comrades and friends. It's alright if I'm selfish sometimes, right?
Right now you're not a marine and Sanji isn't a pirate. You're simply a person who is with a man you fell in love with two years ago in Loguetown.
You didn't have to pretend to be unphased by the destruction of the Straw Hats on Sabaody.
You didn't have to fight the urge to run straight into Sanji's arms midst the chaos of Caesar's lab.
You're simply a couple reuniting after much time apart at sea.
"I was so worried," you sniff, pressing your fingers as hard as you could into his back. You needed to make sure this wasn't a dream. You've waken up too many times from them in the past two years. You aren't sure you'd be able to survive another. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again or-"
"I would have swum across the whole Grand Line to get back to you," Sanji insists softly in your ear. You thought you missed his voice enough but somehow it still feels as if you missed it more than you realized. If this moment never came, how long would it have taken you to forget it? What would you have forgotten first? "I'm a terrible lover. A true man doesn't make his partner cry anything but happy tears."
You laugh, haphazardly, "you can make me cry any tears you want as long as you don't disappear again."
Blue eyes look at you, appalled, as Sanji pulls far enough to see your face. Never enough to leave your hold on him. "I'm never making you cry again at all!"
You snort in amused disbelief, "I thought happy tears were alright."
Sanji's shoulders relax, another smile spreading across his face, "happy tears are always fine." Despite his words, his hands move to wipe away the tears that won't stop falling. After a heartbeat, the smile falters. "I'm not sure I'll be able to leave you again."
You wince at the reminder, glancing at a nearby snowbank. You're not foolish enough to believe this will last moment will last forever. "We'll have private calls," you offer weakly. Calls that will, you bite your bottom lip. Not be enough. There's not enough time in the day to be together when once again you'll have to become enemies, even if superficially.
Sanji attempts to smile something crooked, "Luffy's an idiot but he's a good captain. "It's been an unspoken rule of yours in the past ー no attempting to sway one another the other's end of the spectrum. If either of you wanted the life the other was part of, you would have gone that route ages ago. After two years apart, however, Sanji's pleading tone does something painful to your heart. "It would be nice having you on the ship, even if for a little while. They'd believe you if you said you were captured by pirates. Then you could go back… if you wanted."
Your fingers twitch, pulse rising. The offer of a lifetime.
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splattergutz · 1 month ago
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fave moments in the terror:
*hickey shitting in gibson’s bed after their breakup during franklin’s funeral
*crozier getting rejected TWICE by sophia (for the love of god give it up)
*the whole fitzier bitchfight in ep5
*irving seriously suggesting watercolor painting as a distraction from gay sex
*hickey creating an evil polycule & overthrowing a ship because he wanted to go to the sandwich islands
*continuing that-“you could have just joined up” funniest line in the whole series, no notes
*dr stanley telling collins that going to the party will help w his depression & then proceeding to show up to said party & light himself on fire in front of collins
*blanky proposing a toast after getting his leg mauled bc he considered that marriage to tuunbaq
*silna walking past des voeux in ep10 as he’s begging for help
*collins dying while horribly crossfaded
*blanky wrapping forks around himself & using his body as bait to kill tuunbaq
*james lighting tuunbaq up with rockets
*hickey singing the national anthem to bring tuunbaq to them
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empty-blog-for-lurking · 1 month ago
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My vld time travel au is really just- Beautiful morally grey women, who have close but concerning platonic relationship with Lance, and want Lotor dead/trying to violently murder him, not out of malice or vengeance or anything personal but simply because of pragmatic "it's for the greater good" reasons and they are sorta?? Right about it
#empty thoughts#I don't hate l*tor (the censor is just so it doesn't go in the tags)#But sometimes i'll see old posts from annoying l*tor/l*tura stans and i am like#'can we kill this guy again? I wasn't looking and missed it'#I just really need him to get his ass kicked and thoroughly by the people who hold similar ideology as him#(But are also more adept/better planner then him but that's just me being biased)#(I think my biggest problem with him is that. Till the end we really don't know why he did That™#Instead of explaining anything vee el dee just went 'oh he has a tragic past be nice to him :(' which honestly?#Pissed me off more then make me sympathetic#And so many stans who'll go 'Alura should just overlook the fact that he literally manipulated her trauma#Knowing full well that her people were still alive. While still using said people as batteries and instead get back with him#so she can be his arm candy therapist girlfriend#cause he's uwu traumatized baby' while shitting on lanc and romel only pissed me off so much more#And just- we still don't know why he did That. For all we know he really was using those alteans as capri suns#To extend his life and just made himself believe that it's for greater good so he can tell himself he's not like his dad and sleep at night#Anyway the reason why i don't talk about this au is because it's literally just a tma time travel fanfic#I want it to be less tma though.#But also i want to keep the aesthetics of horror‚ humans turned monsters‚ build up to the end of the world‚ and anti christ#And Lanc being morally grey depressed manipulative demigod who in this case swings between-#'save l*tor cause it's the right thing to do'#'save l*tor cause he's more useful alive'#'save l*tor cause last time he died his mom destroyed multiple realities while throwing a tantrum'#and 'kill l*tor yourself the moment he inevitably crosses the line'#Along with his new besties#I am not making sense it's 7:30 in the morning and i have cold
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femonologue · 10 months ago
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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.
I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.
A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.
"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.
She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"
"What's a tulip?" I ask.
"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."
"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.
I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.
"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.
I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.
It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"
I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.
"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."
I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."
We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.
I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.
By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.
Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.
When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.
After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.
I never see grunge girl again.
That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.
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buckiverse · 25 days ago
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Lessons
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☆--- paring: zayne x reader
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☆--- summary: Your childhood best friend, Zayne, had always been there for you, loyal, supportive, and understanding. So, when you realized you had a crush on Caleb, you turned to him for help. Taking it upon himself to be your guide, Zayne offered to teach you a few lessons in love. But as the lessons progress, you start to wonder... was Caleb really the one you wanted all along?
☆--- word count: 9.9k
☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, fingering, missionary, zayne is literally so jealous, caleb is kinda the boy best friend you tell your boyfriend not to worry about ngl, reader is inexperienced, soft!dom zayne, size kink if you squint, zayne knows you so fucking well it's sickening (he's just so sweet), no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)
☆--- a/n: loosely based on nightly rendezvous (yes im doing a childhood best friend au for everyone... i fear im obsessed)
↳ xavier | sylus | caleb | rafayel
Some part of you felt like it was a bad idea—you knew better. Even after all these years, it felt surreal that Caleb was one of your closest friends. In your small town, there weren’t many people to bond with. The tight-knit community had shrunk over time, and most people you knew were just memories now. But you’d never forget the two boys who lived next door. One was more charming, the other more reserved, but both were just as kind and reliable.
Years later, that sense of community felt like a distant dream. It was why you jumped at the chance to move closer to Caleb and Zayne after they relocated to the city. The passing of your grandmother had made staying in the countryside unbearable. But as you stood ankle-deep in snow, staring at the truck piled high with your belongings, you wondered if you were in over your head.
The cold wind bit through your gloves as you trudged inside the apartment building. Your eyes darted nervously to the heavy furniture that needed to be moved. You shifted your weight, glancing at the door every few seconds. If any of the boys decided not to show up, you would be screwed. 
“Y/N!” Caleb’s voice rang out, and your head snapped up. Relief surged through you as you saw him approaching. Without thinking, you rushed into his arms, your cheeks burning as his warm embrace enveloped you.
“It’s good to see you too,” he teased, his playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His hands rested lightly on your back as he pulled away, studying your face. “How long were you standing out there?”
“Not long,” you lied with an awkward laugh. “I just—got lost in thought.”
How he looked at you made it hard to breathe, as if he still saw the same girl from all those years ago. The creak of the lobby door saved you from spiraling further. 
Zayne strode in, his dark coat dusted with snowflakes. His sharp gaze flicked from you to Caleb’s hands, still resting on your waist. For a moment, his jaw tightened, but he quickly smoothed his expression.
“You’re late,” Caleb called out, smirking.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Zayne replied, his tone dry as his eyes settled on you. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”
“Never,” you said with a grin, stepping forward to hug him. His arms wrapped around you briefly, his touch warm but hesitant. You smiled before turning and walking over to the elevator. You missed your family, and now it felt a little closer to being pieced back together. 
You gave a debrief of the plan for the day, as there was plenty you could do on your own later. Though you were grateful to Xavier for helping you get a place, it needed…tlc. The boys agreed to help you move bulky items and clean up the remnants of a bug treatment. 
The boys retreated to the lobby—they had to move a couch and some other, far too heavy things. The three of you had been friends for years, bickering and fighting like siblings, but never with ill intent. Though Caleb and Zayne constantly teased each other more recently than anything, you weren’t sure what was a joke anymore. 
Your body jolted. A sound of a shout came from the hallway, distracting you from sweeping. 
“Damn—Zayne, pull up the couch—” Caleb strained and bit out. 
“You’re the one who’s not paying attention,” Zayne shot back calmly. 
You walked up to the unfolding scene, your hands resting on your hips when you approached them. The couch was now on the tile of the apartment hallway. You were glad they didn’t break your stuff while they messed around.
“And… Why is my couch on the ground?” you asked, your gaze shooting between them. 
“It seems Caleb’s grip slipped,” Zayne quipped. You could feel the air quotes around the last portion of his statement. His hands were resting on his hips as his breathing slowed and evened out.
“I just need a second—I’m sweating over here,” Caleb said, a deep breath coming from his lips. 
You watched as he lifted his shirt. His jeans rested low on his hips as he lifted the fabric, you could see faint trails of hair leading down his abdomen. He had a vein running above his hip to below his pants. 
Your eyes betrayed you as you shamelessly traced his body. Fuck, he looked good.
Zayne watched you in silence, observing, watching the surprise on your face when Caleb lifted his shirt. And he did not like it. First, why did Caleb always do shit like that, but besides, why did you seem to like it so much.
The three of you worked together to tackle the chaos of the moving day. With the bulky items moved, Caleb helped you clean the kitchen while Zayne focused on the living room. You stood on your tippy toes, wiping the cabinet the best you could, stretching to reach the top shelf. Caleb moved in behind you, his body brushing against yours. 
“Let me get that,” he said, his voice soft as he grabbed the cloth from your hand.
Your breath hitched as his warmth seeped through your back. His fingers brushed yours briefly, sending a jolt through you. You moved aside, trying to compose yourself. He stepped to the side after finishing, leaning onto the counter, “Why don’t I take over this part, since you’re so small?” a playful grin played on his lips, as he winked at you. 
“Always picking on my size,” you joked, your voice shaky. “Maybe you’re just too tall.”
His grin widened, but something in his gaze lingered a moment too long. “...Maybe,” he murmured, his voice low.
From the corner of the room, Zayne’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen. His hand paused mid-swipe on the wall, his eyes narrowing at seeing Caleb leaning close to you. His grip on the rag tightened, but he quickly looked away. This wasn’t the time.
You noticed all his progress when you made your way to Zayne. He almost successfully cleared the living room. “Can I help?” you said, approaching his side. 
Zayne’s lips quirked into a slight smirk. “I figured you’d be too busy with Caleb to remember me.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you shot back, an uncomfortable laugh leaving your lips.
He attached the extended handle before handing you the mop, his fingers brushing yours slightly. “Guess I’ll have to remind you why I’m the favorite,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. 
You fell into a routine in the following weeks, trying to adjust to your new life. Weekly meetups with Caleb became a ritual, and today, you waited for him at a quaint coffee shop Zayne had introduced you to. The warm smell of coffee and pastries filled the air as you spotted Caleb walking in, his black coat framing his tall figure.
“Y/N!” he called out, his smile lighting up. He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment.
When he set you down, his eyes held yours for a beat too long. Your stomach flipped as you sat across from him, trying to steady your thoughts.
You began your catch-up over a coffee and some food. Your discussion filled the silence, and you shared a laugh while discussing the latest work drama. You clued Caleb into the details about your coworker, and how the Hunter’s Association locked his file.
It was pretty peculiar in your field; most hunters had a public record, released by the organization they resided under, but in his case, it wasn’t as easily accessible, making him a high-profile individual. Which just made you curious. As talented as you were you couldn’t help but notice the difference in skills between the two of you. It was so obvious he’d been at this longer than you. 
Caleb listened intently as you shared the latest work news, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.
“And what are you going to do about it?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Detective work?”
You shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t know. It feels like I’d be invading his privacy. I guess—I’ll wait for him to tell me when he’s ready.”
Caleb’s gaze softened. “That’s just like you,” he said quietly, his purple eyes glinting in the light.
Before you could process his words, your watch buzzed with an alarm. “I gotta get back to work,” you said, grabbing your things in a rush.
“I’ll take care of this,” he said, gesturing to the table. “See you later.”
It was a lighter cold today, and no heavy snow blocked your path. As you walked back to work, you were honestly heavy in thought. You couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb. His smiles and touches felt deliberate, and you had no idea how to handle it. Dating had always been a mystery to you, and your nerves weren’t helping.  
This wasn’t the first time these nerves graced your presence. When you were much younger, you recall the party, the smell of alcohol, the loud music, and unfamiliar faces. You knew Zayne and Caleb of course, but them being a bit older than you made this crowd—one you hadn’t been exposed to before.
Making your way through the door was the worst. Caleb knew everyone, saying “hellos,” “hi’s,” and “what’s up, dude,” as he led the way. Making your way through the moving bodies was a challenge. You were thankful for Zayne’s hand holding onto yours as you made the way. You scanned the crowd, and everyone was dancing. The number of people grinding on others was mesmerizing, and you wanted in.
The music thudded through the walls, pounding against your ears. You remember making your way up the stairs, following closely behind Caleb, as Zayne sandwiched in behind you, finally letting go of your hand. Honestly, this didn’t seem like Zayne’s type of crowd, and he wasn’t the most outgoing. 
When you reached the room, it had fewer people than the rest of the house. You walked in, sitting on the couch while Zayne stood near the corner of the room. Some people sat in a circle with a bottle in the center, obviously playing a game. One of the girls asked if you and the boys wanted to join. 
You could feel the eyes of two important men in your life shift to you. Both were curious about your response. 
“...yeah.” 
Caleb also joined the game, sitting directly across from you. A girl with blonde hair spun the bottle, and before you knew it, it was your turn. 
Placing your hand on the bottleneck, you spun the bottle, watching its turning motion with curiosity. When it stopped on Caleb, the purple of his eyes glinted as he looked between you and the bottle. 
You could hear the circle of people urging you both on. It was just a kiss. You could do this. He’s your friend. You sat up on your heels, your hands burning as they rested on your knees. 
He got close to you and whispered, “Ready?” only for your ears to hear, and he kissed you, his lips connecting with yours softly, sweetly. Some people teased him for the gentleness at which his lips touched yours, but something shot through you when his lips touched yours. He softly bit your bottom lip before he pulled back from you. 
He kissed you. Zayne saw, everyone saw, and you liked it. 
You needed advice—something solid to guide your next move. You’d already admitted to yourself that you liked him, but how were you supposed to approach this? What did you even say? Zayne helped you through that kiss, reminding you it was just a game. But all these years later, you wanted to be more than a game to Caleb. Even in your shared youth, he had good advice for you, so why wouldn’t you trust him?
When you arrived at the office, your mind was still a tangled mess, buzzing with uncertainty. You decided it was no use overthinking it; it was better to rip the bandaid off.
You pulled out your phone, hesitating for a moment before texting Zayne:
You:
“Can I call you? I need some advice.”
When his reply came moments later—“I have a patient right now. I’ll call you after.”—you let out a relieved sigh. You trusted him, and you needed his help.
Relief washed over you as you read his reply, your heartbeat finally slowing to a steady rhythm. You let out a soft sigh, tucking your phone away. All you had to do now was organize your thoughts.
While you waited, you turned to your caseload, focusing on the profile you’d been compiling for a new wanderer-type you’d encountered during a hunt weeks earlier. Using old files as templates, you typed furiously, the steady rhythm of the keyboard pulling you into the zone. Minutes turned to hours as you worked, the world fading into the background.
The buzzing of your phone jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the screen and barely caught the call before it went to voicemail.
“You want me to teach you how to date?” Zayne’s voice drawled through the line, laced with amusement.
Heat rushed to your face as you groaned audibly. “That’s not—it’s not like that!” you blurted, but Zayne only chuckled softly.
You spent the next ten minutes stumbling through your explanation, your words tangling as you tried to paint a coherent picture of your situation. When you finally stopped, waiting anxiously for his response, all he said was:
“Okay.”
That one word was enough to knock the wind out of you. “Okay?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” he confirmed calmly.
Your heart soared. “Okay, then,” you echoed quickly, trying to mask your nervous excitement. You rushed to thank Zayne before ending the call, clutching the phone to your chest. Relief and joy bubbled inside you. You knew Zayne would come through for you. You trusted him completely.
On the other end of the call, Zayne set his phone on his desk, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. He began packing up for the day, shaking his head in amusement. The idea of you coming to him for dating advice was equal parts endearing and intriguing.
Of course, he would help you. That much was never in question. But who had caught your interest so suddenly? The thought gnawed at him, tempting him to ask outright, but he resisted. He’d figure it out eventually.
As he picked up his phone to draft a response, a quiet laugh escaped him. “Lessons,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with amusement. He couldn’t help but smirk as he began typing out a plan. Lessons in dating and seduction? If anyone was going to help you succeed, it was him.
Your phone buzzed with details for your first lesson. You had to admit you were quite excited. When you open the message, you read simple instructions:
Zayne:
“I’ll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something nice, but comfortable.” 
A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you gripped your phone, its cool metal grounding you—way to give me nothing, Zayne. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you typed back.
You:
“Got it.” 
With a rare day off, you had more than enough time to overthink this date—or, well, lesson. You'd been on dates before, but this felt different—important. You wanted to impress Caleb later, but you also wanted to enjoy this with Zayne and learn from him.
Determined, you took your time getting ready—a long bath, smooth and refreshed skin, natural hairstyle, skipping the heat of flat irons. Your makeup was subtle, accentuating your best features—your eyes and lips. The outfit? Simple, with an effortless elegance: a black skirt, a beige sweater, and knee-high black boots. Something nice but comfortable, you echoed mockingly in your head.
The doorbell rang. Your pulse quickened. Taking a deep breath, you cracked the door open.
“I’m grabbing my bag—give me a sec,” you said quickly before shutting it again.
Zayne chuckled softly on the other side. You looked nervous, and he thought it was cute.
When you finally stepped out, his eyes swept over you, approval flashing in his gaze. “Ready?” His voice was warm, familiar.
You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Yeah.”
Locking up, you stepped beside him, weaving through the apartment halls. The elevator was packed when it arrived, leaving just enough room for the two of you to squeeze in. When the doors slid shut, the crowd's pressure pushed you toward the back corner of the elevator.
Zayne stepped in after you, his body instinctively blocking the others from pressing too close. His warmth enveloped you, a wall of quiet protection. When his chest brushed against yours, your head shot up, startled by the contact—only to knock it against the cold metal wall behind you.
A low groan slipped from your lips, and Zayne chuckled. “Careful.” His hand came up, cupping the back of your head gently.
You stilled. Zayne’s touch was light but steady, fingers warm against your scalp. You let yourself settle into it for just a second, your cheeks heating.
Then, with a soft ding, the doors slid open. The moment was gone.
You followed him out quickly, slipping into his car. The silence was thick but not uncomfortable. Still, you were the first to break it.
“So… where are we going?” you asked, anticipation bubbling beneath your skin.
Zayne’s grip tightened subtly around the gear shift, veins visible against his skin. His lips curled into a faint smile. “You’ll see.”
You hadn’t expected this.
The setup was breathtaking—candles flickering softly, a picnic blanket spread on the grass by a lake, and wildflowers scattered around like nature’s own confetti. The crisp spring air carried the scent of earth and blooming petals, a reminder that winter’s grasp was finally loosening. The sun had just begun its descent, casting everything in golden light.
Zayne stood behind you, watching. He caught how your breath hitched and how awe softened your features. The faint flush that always seemed to bloom when he was near. He reveled in it.
“Lesson one,” he murmured. “A date.”
You turned to him, eyes wide. “Zayne, this is…” Your voice wavered with something close to wonder. “This is perfect.”
A small, knowing smile touched his lips.
You hesitated. “I’ve never really—” You exhaled. “So… what do we do now?”
He motioned for you to sit. “First? We eat.”
You obeyed, watching as he unpacked the meal. Your gaze flickered over the assortment of sweets tucked beside the entrees, and you bit your lip. He remembered your sweet tooth.
Your heart squeezed.
He handed you a sandwich—one of your childhood favorites. You took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors and the quiet thoughtfulness behind it.
The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. The conversation was easy and flowing, as it always was between you two. You talked about everything and nothing, letting the city fade away, and the wine in your glass disappeared far too quickly.
At some point, you made the mistake of looking at him.
The sunset bathed him in amber light, the gentle hues accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint green specks in his eyes. He looked beautiful—effortlessly so. The sleeves of his powder blue dress shirt rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins pronounced as his fingers idly toyed with the rim of his glass.
His gaze lifted, catching yours.
You panicked. Tipped your head back, draining the last of your wine, pretending to admire the sky.
And so the night went on.
Laughter. Warmth. The kind of company that made the world feel a little less lonely. It had been too long since you’d felt this way.
Maybe that was why—
—why you ended up tipsy.
The last thing you remembered clearly was Zayne’s hands on your waist, steadying you as you stumbled at your door. His voice, amused and gentle, coaxing you inside.
And then—
"You're drunk."
His voice was strained.
Your skin burned. “N ‘m not,” you murmured, reaching up, fingers clumsily ruffling his hair. “I w’nted to kiss you, Z-Zayne…”
His breath hitched.
You wobbled onto your tiptoes, pressing a sleepy, featherlight kiss to his cheek. “G’night, Zayne~”
Darkness.
And then—morning.
Your head throbbed. You groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead, and then—
The memory came rushing back.
Your stomach dropped.
Shit.
What did you do?
You kissed Zayne—just a kiss on the cheek, but no less a kiss. And you didn’t know how you felt about it. Maybe you liked it. And when you checked your phone, your heart skipped a beat. 
Zayne:
“Are you feeling better?”
It was a simple question, but your body felt warm, and a smile tugged at your lips as the cold metal burned your hand. 
You:
“Yes, I’m still a bit warm, but much better :)”
And from there the conversation flowed. 
Zayne: 
“So you’re ready for your next lesson?”
You:
“Duh.”
This lesson was set up differently—as a more casual experience. Zayne held the door open, allowing you to enter as the scent of perfumes and faint traces of liquor—something you planned to avoid tonight—filled your senses.
Zayne trailed closely behind you, his eyes drawn to your fitted black dress. It hugged your curves just right, and while you were always beautiful, tonight, you looked divine. His gaze lingered, but he didn’t say a word, instead committing the image to memory.
You settled into the plush velvet seat, crossing your legs as you waited for him to join you. The slight pressure of the fabric against your skin and the low hum of jazz music set a tone of subtle sophistication.
“Lesson two,” he murmured as he sat beside you. “Body language.”
A sly smile crept onto your lips. This time, you were ready. Beyond your carefully chosen outfit, you had mentally prepared to hold your ground. Tonight, you would stay in control.
“So, what’s the plan today, Zayne?” you drawled, leaning forward as your fingers lightly brushed his bicep. You pretended it was a casual touch, but the way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you.
Zayne tilted his head slightly, studying your face. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “You’re already ahead, princess,” he whispered, his voice low. The words felt like a direct hit to your resolve.
Your breath hitched, and for a moment, your lips parted as you scrambled to regain composure. “Head start?” you echoed, tilting your head and trying to sound nonchalant.
"I want to see what you've learned—think you can charm me?" he said simply.
The lounge was an upscale dream: dimly lit, lined with high-end paintings, and filled with the smooth rhythm of jazz. The swaying figures on the dance floor moved in tandem with the music, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the scene.
Leaning in closer to Zayne, you brushed your lips near his ear. “Should we dance?” you whispered, your hand steadying yourself on his knee.
The scent of his cologne—clean with a faint hint of jasmine—enveloped you. You felt his gaze sharpen, and when you pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, the faint green specks in them seemed to glow under the low light.
“Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth, as he stood and offered you his hand.
On the dance floor, your movements flowed easily, the music guiding you. You pulled him closer, and your body pressed flush against his. His hands rested on your lower back, firm and grounding, while your fingers trailed up his chest. The hard muscle beneath your touch sent a thrill through you.
“You look so handsome tonight, Zayne,” you said softly, your lips curving into a small smile.
“Only tonight?” he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting.
Your finger traced lazy patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady initially, but you noticed the slight quickening as your touch lingered. You looked up at him, your gaze filled with something unspoken but deeply felt.
“You always do,” you whispered.
The air between you was charged, the tension pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel like you might float away.
When the tempo picked up, you spun away from him, creating a bit of distance as you swayed more freely. He matched your rhythm more stiffly than anything. You couldn’t help but smile—this was fun.
“You’re way too stiff,” you said, getting close to him. Watching him try to whine his hips to the upbeat tempo was amazing. A laugh left your lips as your hands gripped his hips. “Why are your feet so close together?!” you choked out. 
“I was never a dancer,” he said flatly, unamused by the tears in your eyes. 
“Move to the beat,” you said again, trying to show him the way, but he didn’t get it. If you asked him, he’d rather watch you move your body. You moved beautifully, rolling your hips with precision.
When the lounge prepared to close, your cheeks ached from grinning, and your legs were deliciously sore. You shivered slightly as you walked side by side through the chilly night air.
“You look cold,” Zayne said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders before you could protest.
The warmth of the fabric—and his scent—wrapped around you. A soft, rich aroma of jasmine and something distinctly him made your heart flutter.
You nudged his arm, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You know… I think this was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
“I haven’t danced like that in forever.” you said.
“How could I forget?” he replied, his eyes briefly flicking to the stars above. “It’s your favorite thing.”
His fingers brushed against yours, tentative at first. You took the leap, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you caught the faint blush dusting his cheeks.
This man was everything.
Later That Week
You had agreed to meet Caleb for a more eventful hangout—to meet downtown and do whatever caught your eye. 
You spotted him easily. His tall figure towered over most people. You walked up to him, and he hugged you tightly. The warmth of his body covered yours, but it didn’t raise your heartbeat. 
When he loosened his grip on you, his hands rested on your shoulders, “Long time no see, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice full of joy. 
Your cheeks felt tight from smiling—you were happy to see him, but not for the same reasons as before.
“I know, it’s been a few weeks,” you said, pulling back from him and looking into the purple of his eyes. “Let’s get back on schedule,” you breathed, a light smile plastered on your lips. 
Work had been busy, but the truth was that your lessons with Zayne had occupied your thoughts—and your time.
While you started your walk downtown, plenty of things caught your eye. The first thing you did was enter a record shop. The store was in the basement off of a side street. It was a little creepy, but it looked like an underground studio once you got inside. Records were all over the shop, on the wall, and in little baskets stacked in rows. 
He browsed next to you, shuffling through the records occasionally showing you one he thought you’d like or an album you’d enjoyed. And in spending this time with him, you realized that you enjoyed this. 
The simplicity between you, the light air, and the lack of expectations for anything more was all you needed. Caleb’s fingers softly brushed yours as he placed a vinyl behind the one you held up for him.
“Find anything good?” you asked, your feet planted evenly on the ground as you turned to face Caleb. 
His eyes bore into yours, something flickering over them before he answered you.
 “Nah—let's get some food,” he said quickly, his demeanor suddenly returning.
Exiting the store, you joined in step beside him, exploring the city's night scene. Your options were endless as you scanned the shops that lined the streets. You spotted a food truck and the smells coming from it were amazing. 
Altering Caleb, you both sat at the outdoor seating, waiting for your orders. The chill of the evening air seeped through your clothes, making you shiver slightly.
“Do you want my jacket?” Caleb asked, his tone playful. “You look like you’re freezing.”
“Only if you have an extra,” you said, bouncing your leg under the table to keep warm.
With a smirk, he reached into his bag and handed you a spare coat. “You’re my best friend, You know I always do.”
You slipped it on, grateful for the warmth but… that was it. There was no spark, no flutter of excitement. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, adjusting the collar and wrapping it tighter around yourself, but it felt like just a jacket.
In the quiet moment that followed, your mind drifted back to Zayne. His jacket had enveloped you in warmth and scent, and your heart raced when he was near. You glanced at Caleb, who was busy watching the street outside.
Nothing. That kiss was—just a kiss. Years ago, you wouldn’t have believed anyone. Not even Zayne could have convinced you it was a fleeting crush. But it really was. You felt proper chemistry, companionship, and care and wanted to keep experiencing that with Zayne.
The weight of your realization was crushing. All the time you spent—wasted on this man. You cared for him, you truly did. But, what about you? Why were you so pent-up and focused on this person you didn't even really like? Was it really him you missed? Or just how he filled your time and made you feel small—safe, even?
That's the point. You’re not small. You're a grown woman who can stand independently, make her own decisions, and provide her own entertainment. Relief washed over you in waves because what were you even doing? Holding onto a version of the past that no longer fits?
But right behind it, sadness crept in. Not for Caleb, but for the time lost—chasing something never meant to be yours. But you didn’t truly waste time if it led you here—to someone real. To Zayne.
You forced a smile, staring down at your lap, and tried to push away the sinking feeling in your chest. You used to admire Caleb. It should feel special, especially his attention and time, but—it doesn’t. 
Caleb was the person you had wanted—the reason for the lessons.
The contrast was stark, undeniable. And for the first time, you realized the answer had been clear.
You had admitted to Zayne that you wanted a cozy evening. Work had drained you, but more than anything, your recent realization had knocked the wind out of you. It wasn’t just an idle thought—the truth that settled deep in your bones, undeniable yet terrifying.
You knew what you needed to say and do, but the effort of voicing it—of being honest with Zayne—made your nerves coil tight.
Your lessons have helped. You felt more confident, more self-assured. You understood what a date was supposed to be now, what it meant to be courted and wanted. But more than anything, you wanted something real.
With him.
So, he invited you over after work.
Zayne:
"How about I cook you dinner, and we watch a movie?"
You:
"How do you always know exactly what I need?"
Zayne:
"Make yourself at home. I just finished setting up."
When you arrived at his house, the living room instantly warmed you. The room glowed softly from the candles he had lined along the tables, their flickering light casting gentle shadows against the walls. The scent of something rich and savory drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint traces of his cologne.
But the sight of something familiar made your heart catch in your chest—small plushies, the ones you had won years ago, still resting on the couch.
He had kept them.
Your fingers grazed one absentmindedly as you took it all in, a lump forming in your throat.
You didn’t miss the sound of the shower running from the other room, and heat bloomed across your face. The thought of him stepping out—steam rising, droplets tracing the planes of his skin—sent your mind spiraling. He had just gotten off work, yet he still made time to set everything up for you.
As if on cue, the water stopped. A moment later, the door cracked open, and Zayne walked out, a towel slung low on his hips, another in his hands as he ruffled it through his damp black hair.
“Don’t be a stranger,” he said casually, his voice smooth. “Have a seat.”
Then, as if completely unaware of his effect on you, he strode into his bedroom and shut the door with a soft click.
You swallowed hard. That lasted less than a second, but it was enough.
His physique was unreal—his lean yet defined frame, the way his skin still glistened slightly, the tantalizing trail of hair disappearing beneath the towel… and God, you wanted to know where it led.
This was new. You had never felt this way before.
And he was making you crazy.
You forced yourself to move, settling onto the couch, trying to calm your racing heart as you waited for him. You distracted yourself with the snacks he had spread across the table, but your mind kept replaying that brief glimpse of him.
When he finally reappeared, dressed in a fitted shirt and sweatpants, looking effortlessly breathtaking, your breath caught in your throat.
Something about this moment—the candlelight, the scent of dinner lingering in the air, the sheer intimacy of being here with him—felt so real. So domestic. So much like something you wanted forever.
Zayne disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in the glow of candlelight. A few moments later, he emerged with two plates in hand, setting them down on the dining table before motioning for you to sit.
“Did you make all of this?” you asked, raising a brow as you took in the spread before you.
“Of course,” he replied smoothly, settling across from you. “I figured you’d appreciate a home-cooked meal after the week you’ve had.”
Your heart ached at how thoughtful he was.
The meal was warm and comforting—just like him. You took a bite, letting the rich flavors settle on your tongue and savoring the moment. Zayne watched you carefully, his gaze flicking to your lips before he took a bite of his own food.
“This is really good,” you admitted, breaking the silence. “You’re full of surprises.”
He smirked slightly, tilting his head. “You act like you don’t already know I’m good with my hands.”
Your fork stalled mid-air. Heat crawled up your neck as your eyes snapped to his.
Zayne smirked slightly, taking another bite as if he hadn’t set your whole body on fire with that one sentence.
Your stomach twisted, and it had nothing to do with the food.
“I—” You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. “I suppose I do.”
His gaze flickered with amusement before he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. Something was intoxicating about the way he watched you. It was like he was reading every thought running through your head.
The tension built slowly, lingering between every glance, every soft smile exchanged over the rim of your glasses.
At some point, his foot brushed against yours beneath the table. It was barely a touch—so light it could’ve been an accident. But when you met his gaze, you knew it wasn’t.
Neither of you spoke on it. Neither of you moved away.
It was almost unbearable, the weight of the moment, the way the air grew heavier, tighter.
After dinner, you both moved to the couch. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more devastatingly handsome than usual.
You curled next to him as he flipped through the streaming options before settling on something. Not that it really mattered—you could barely focus because of how close he was.
The movie played, but you weren’t watching.
You were too aware of Zayne’s presence, the warmth of his arm resting along the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder. Every tiny touch sent a current through you.
Then, in the middle of a scene, Zayne suddenly reached for the remote.
Click.
Ring…Ring…Ring…
Your phone started ringing, now of all times, and you dropped your gaze to the device at the same time as Zayne. 
Caleb calls all the time, but the timing of this was just—it couldn’t be a coincidence. And you weren’t sure if you should answer. 
“Don’t pick it up,” was all you heard, as you gripped the metal of your phone tighter. 
“Why,” you whispered, your voice small now. The confidence you had before flickered, unsteady—like a candle caught in the wind. You felt tender, exposed. Unsure if you had the strength to do what needed to be done.
“I know you wanted lessons, because of Caleb,” he started, his eyes meeting yours. The air felt cooler now, and goosebumps ran over your skin. 
"I can’t do this if you’re still holding onto him," he murmured, his voice steady—but stretched thin, like he was barely holding himself together.
“I can’t bear to see you with him—now that your presence has graced me, I see small pieces of you everywhere I go,” he admitted, his voice soft and tortured. 
Zayne exhaled through his nose,  running a hand through his dark hair before finally speaking.
“I don’t want you to want Caleb—I want you to want me” he breathed.
The screen froze mid-ring. A silence stretched between you—thick, suffocating. Heavy with everything left unsaid.
Your brows furrowed as you turned to him, only to find his gaze already on you—serious, searching.
Your breath hitched.
The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, heavy and unshakable.
You swallowed. Say it.
“I thought I wanted to be with another man, Zayne…” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He tensed slightly, his jaw tightening, but you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his.
“But I don’t,” you continued softly, eyes searching his. “I want this. I want you.”
The words left you in a breath, raw and real.
Zayne didn’t move, didn’t speak right away. But you saw how his eyes darkened, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“Please, Zayne,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you leaned in.
Your breath stilled, heart hammering. He was too close—his scent, the warmth radiating from his skin, the slight tremor in his breath. And then… finally, you leaned in, and he met you halfway.
You pulled back slightly, your breaths intertwining in the room's dimness. Your eyes opened tentatively, and you saw Zayne staring at you, his chest heaving from the kiss you had just shared. 
“Again,” you murmured, a silent plea because now that you were here you couldn’t let this pass. And Zayne obeyed, kissing you again. You could feel him shifting your position. His hands found your back, and he briefly disconnected your lips to lay you on the couch. 
His knees straddled your hips, as he just watched you, “Beautiful,” he whispered before tasting your lips again, the weight of him on top of you was not only delicious but welcome. You gasped at the pressure, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A groan escaped your mouth when his tongue entered your lips. 
“Wait,” you said, your hands resting on Zayne’s chest as he lay on you. 
“I’ve never done this before,” you said, noticing the clench of his jaw, flushed face, and swollen lips. 
He waited for a beat, watching you silently, “I’ll take care of you, princess,” he exhaled.
“I don’t have much experience,” he admitted, his gaze shifting from yours.
Your eyes widened with shock at his admission. You had assumed he was experienced, and that was part of the reason you asked him for help. 
You took a breath, smiling at him. " Let's learn together,” you whispered in his ear before leaning your head back and resting it against the pillow. 
You pulled him flush against you, his weight pressing you into the couch. He began his thorough search kissing your temple, to the crux of your ear, “Another lesson, …hm?” he whispered. And that caused you to writhe beneath him—the sound of his voice in your ear, and the soft vibrato of his confirmation. 
He began his steady exploration with his lips and hands. Stroking up and down your body, though most of it covered, the cool of his hands made your skin get chills when he touched you. 
“Can I take this off?” he asked, gesturing to your t-shirt. 
“Yes,” you said too quickly, embarrassed by your eagerness. 
You adjusted your body, allowing him to pull the fabric over your head. You lay there sitting up on your forearms, just watching his explorative touch. His pointer finger traced the outline of your bra, hovering just above your skin. 
“You—” you started, biting the fat of your lip, “Zayne, I want you to take this off too.” 
And those emerald eyes watched you. In his head, he couldn’t believe you would be his—already prepared to memorize your every reaction. His hand trembled before steadying against your skin. The contact of his hand caused you to arch away from the couch. Click.
The bra fell forward as you shrugged it off your arms. Your whole body felt warm as you guided Zayne’s hands to hold your breasts. Your hands rested on his before you moved them back to the couch. His thumbs felt the hardening peaks beneath his hands, and he gave them a tentative flick, watching your face. You squirmed beneath him. 
Sensitive here. He made a mental note, before rubbing the hardened nub against his thumb at a steady pace. 
He moved his mouth to your other breast kissing it, before watching your face as his tongue made contact with it. Your hips jerked forward gently when he flicked it with his tongue. You bit your lip watching him play with your nipples. 
“Can—you touch me there?” you whimpered. His lips parted from your nipple. 
“Where?” he asked, and both of you just looked at each other. 
Before you took his hand and brought it between your legs. You held it there rubbing yourself on his hand through your pants, but you didn't miss the way Zayne trained his eyes on you. Watching each little reaction you had when he touched you. Even the lightest of touch made his lips part slightly even with the furious flush of his skin. 
His cock was straining in his pants, but he waited, wanting to learn you first.
He laid you down, your hands threading into his hair. Pulling him close to you he buried his face in your neck. The smell of jasmine filled your senses, as he groaned beneath you, breathing in your scent. You leaned back into the couch, shaken by the idea of him on top of you.
Your breasts pressed against his chest, the cool fabric causing a shiver to roll through you. He ran his face up and down your neck leaving a trail of light kisses. It was as if he was savoring you, imprinting your smell, your presence in his mind—as if you’d be done with him after this.
“You’re beautiful,” he groaned against your throat.
Zayne steadied himself on his hands on either side of your head, his gaze trailing over your body to where he would find himself next. His eyes stopped between your thighs, he watched intently as you squirmed beneath him, your body shifting under his gaze.
Your heartbeat felt loud in your ears, and the cold stillness of the air sent a shiver through you. His lips found your jaw, kissing a slow line tracing to your throat. Each touch of his lips sent heat between your legs, and you tilted your head to give him more access, a whimper escaping your lips. 
Zayne was just a friend, someone who supported and loved you but someone you felt you couldn’t have. Your change of heart made you act on a whim to take advantage of your time with him. You wanted him, and no one else could have him but you. He was a high you couldn't—didn't want to get rid of. 
You grasped the blankets on the couch, trying to ground yourself somehow, while he worked slow kisses down your chest with light scrapes of his teeth.
His hands ran down your sides, caressing your breasts to your hips, his thumbs brushing the naked skin beneath your sweatpants. It was a maddening sensation, and you only wanted him to keep going.
You could see his erection pressed firmly against his pants, and you felt tempted to reach forward, to touch it. To pull him closer firmly against you, to feel him where you needed him most. 
One of his hands left you cupping you over your pants. The pressure against your clit stole your breath. A quiet groan of approval left his lips, while you felt a pulse between your legs.
You ground your hips upwards into his hand. A breath left your lips as you moved your hips. 
“Touch me, Zayne,” you breathed, you felt like you were in a dream. 
He paused, his breath hitching at your words. His gaze darkened, the green of his eyes barely visible, as he searched your face. His jaw clenched, his voice dropping, rough with restraint. “Say that again.”
You observed him, grabbing the drawstrings of his pants. “Touch me Zayne, …Please” Your voice came out small, pleading. 
He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching against your skin. He traced your pussy through your pants, his fingers burning through your pants—that you wished he’d taken off already. 
"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his thumb brushing over you, his touch reverent, like he was memorizing you.
You had never been undressed like this. And you wanted it, you wanted to be touched by him, to feel him grabbing you.
He gripped the waistband of your pants, adjusting his position to push them down your thighs, dropping them to the floor. You sat there in only black underwear while he sat across from you, still in his t-shirt and sweats. 
His attention was all yours, and it was thrilling. 
Your hands still gripped the blanket beneath you. Your feet were tucked next to your bottom. 
“Let me see you.” His voice was low and deliberate. His fingertips grazed your knee before applying the faintest pressure. His eyes searched yours, waiting. “Spread your legs for me.”
You took in an unsteady breath, and you did it. 
His hands ran up your legs, his fingers pressing into your thighs, making your stomach tighten unexpectedly. The cool of his hands felt good against your soft skin. 
The cool air brushed against your panties making you aware of how wet your panties were. Zayne’s gaze met you there, shooting warmth through you.
Your breath hitched when his thumb pressed down on your clit through the fabric. His other hand was steady on your thigh, pressing your thighs open wider. The brush of his thumb up and down sparked a heat in your lower stomach.
You leaned your head back and started to rock under his touch. And then he kissed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He groaned, licking and sucking your breasts with a slight scrape of teeth. A high-pitched moan escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his hair. 
His mouth was so hot, and he kept licking you, how you’d never felt before. You felt like you could die. So, when he removed his mouth from your breasts, you thought you were going to scream. 
He removed your underwear, leaving them in a pile with the rest of your clothes, spreading your legs once more as his gaze fell between your thighs. 
His fingers glide gently along your inner thigh, his touch warm and deliberate, but never rushed. His gaze softens as he takes you in, his breathing slow, controlled—like he’s memorizing every part of you.
"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent. His thumb stroked lazy circles against your skin, a silent reassurance, a quiet promise that he won’t rush you.
When you nodded, his lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, searching—making sure.
"Let me take care of you," he breathed, his hands smoothing up your thighs as he leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss just above your knee. "I want to make this good for you."
He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and his head lowered between them. You shuddered at the first touch of his tongue, pleasure running through you. Each soft lap of your clit rolled through you. 
His arms held you so securely that you couldn’t move your hips while he licked you. As much as he said he wanted to take care of you, it felt like he was doing this for himself. 
“Zayne,” you moaned, digging your hands into his thick black hair. 
He swirled his tongue over your clit before sucking. His eyes were on you, watching you writhe beneath him. His finger filled you, sending a tremor through you, with his mouth on your clit, licking and sucking, while his fingers moved in and out of you. And he did it with such ease, deep noises of satisfaction falling from his lips. 
He was taking his time, slowly working you out and the pressure was building up in you. You bucked your hips, feeling the heat growing throughout you. 
“Zayne…I need more,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. 
His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered it with slow, calculated movements—his pace steady, yet devastating. He added another finger, stretching you further, his touch unrelenting as he pressed deeper, curling just right. The pleasure was unbearable in the best way, a wave crashing over you with no hope of escape.
Your breath hitched as his dark, heated gaze met yours, watching, reading every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. His free hand smoothed over your thigh, grounding you, soothing you—only to bring you higher moments later.
A choked-out plea left your lips, your body arching, back curving as the heat coursed through your veins, pooling low in your stomach. You clenched around him, muscles tightening as that sharp, dizzying pleasure built to a breaking point.
“That's it,” he murmured, voice thick with something unreadable, something possessive yet achingly tender. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his breath hot and teasing, sending shivers up your spine.
And then—release.
Your body trembled, pleasure crashing into you in relentless waves. He didn't stop, not right away, working you through it, coaxing every last aftershock from your sensitive body until you were completely spent.
You collapsed against the couch, fully fucked out, limbs heavy, your mind hazy with bliss. 
A shaky breath left your mouth, as you sat up slowly running your fingers through his hair.
Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.
The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. Something real.
His jasmine scent invaded your senses as his body wrapped around yours. You closed your eyes, surprised by the sudden upward jerk of him holding your naked body. You held him close as he carried you to the closed bedroom door. 
He laid you on the bed gently, holding your stare, he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants, your cheeks growing warmer even as he stood before you in his briefs. You glanced at his erection pressed through the fabric. He was so hard, and it was hot. And all for you. 
Goose bumps spread across your skin, as he opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom. 
“Do you want me?” he whispered, his gaze meeting yours, as he dropped his briefs. 
“Yes,” you breathed.
He crawled over you, kissing your stomach and breasts as he did. His body covered yours, so heavy. It made your skin sing with satisfaction. He kissed your neck, bracing his hands beside your head. 
Your fingers trailed the line of hair, you'd been desperate to touch. You hesitated, unsure how to touch him. 
Zayne felt your hesitation, and meeting your gaze, he whispered, “Your touch… I need it.”
Your heart fluttered with uncertainty, but you slid your hands down gripping his erection. His forehead fell on the side of your neck, encouraging you further. 
You wrapped your hand around his length. And he groaned. You ran your hand down to the base and all the way back up. 
"Don’t make me wait…please" you whispered in his ear, placing a kiss there.
"Tell me how much you need me,” he rasped, nipping at your neck.
"I’ve always needed you, Zayne," you said softly, dragging your hands through his hair. "I need you in every way… not just tonight."
His eyes met yours before kissing you while you stroked him again. Your breasts brushed against his chest, sending pleasure through you. 
“...Please” you breathed. 
He rolled onto the bed next to you, slipping off his briefs, the sound of the wrapper crinkling in his hands drawing your attention. You watched as he poised to tear it open, his gaze flicking to yours for confirmation.
“Wait,” you whispered, your voice soft but resolute. He paused instantly, his eyes searching yours.
“I want to feel all of you,” you said, vulnerability lacing your tone, the weight of your trust hanging in the air.
His expression softened, his brow furrowing with both tenderness and concern.
“If it’s too much, just say the word,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, a promise woven into each syllable. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering as though to reassure you. Positioning himself at your entrance, his movements were deliberate, his focus entirely on you.
He took the head of his erection and rubbed it against your pussy. The tip caught your clit, causing your breath to hitch. He started to slip the head inside you, and it stung. A shudder rolled through you as you exhaled. Your fingers curled on his chest as he stayed still inside you, watching your face. 
He pushed deeper into you, his gaze dark and unwavering as he watched the way your lips parted, a soft whimper spilling free. The sound sent a shudder through his body, his breath coming out ragged as he struggled to hold himself together.
The stretch burned—a slow, intoxicating burn—one that sent heat rolling through your veins. You felt so full, every inch of him fitting into you as though he was meant to be there.
When he finally bottomed out, a cry tore from your throat, your back arching, pressing you flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, his weight solid, grounding, overwhelming in the best way.
He didn’t move right away.
Instead, he stayed buried deep, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him. Your arms wound around his neck, and he exhaled against your skin, his breath warm and uneven.
For a moment, there was only the sound of your mingled breathing, the slow rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch air. He was everywhere, his presence consuming, intoxicating.
And then, he moved.
A slow, deliberate roll of his hips.
You gasped at the sensation, at the way he dragged against your walls with aching precision, each thrust filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, and he shuddered at the sensation, his control fraying at the edges.
“You take it so good,” he praised, his voice thick, rough with something raw, something reverent. 
Every time his pelvis ground against yours, his head spread throughout you. The friction sent sparks up your spine, every movement of his body against yours pulling a new sound from your lips.
He was watching you, utterly captivated by the way you unraveled beneath him. His thrusts remained slow, deliberate, as if savoring every reaction, every little gasp and moan that escaped you.
His fingers traced down your side, over the curve of your waist, gripping you tighter as his pace deepened, intensified. His gaze burned into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.
His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “So beautiful for me,” he rasped, his voice low, dripping with need.
The words ran over your skin, filling you with warm satisfaction, your head tilting back as another moan escaped you. Zayne’s lips hovered above yours. With each slow thrust, they brushed yours lightly. 
His pace faltered, his rhythm stuttering as he fought for control, his breath ragged against your skin. But he didn’t dare rush—he wanted to feel every second of this, every shudder, every tremor that wracked your body beneath him.
“You’re mine… all mine,” he groaned, voice thick with possession, his body tensing, muscles drawn taut as he drove his hips deep one last time.
A choked moan escaped you as you shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His grip on you tightened as his own release followed, a deep, guttural sound leaving his lips as he buried himself fully, claiming every inch of you.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your hearts hammering in sync as he collapsed against you, his weight a comforting warmth pressing you into the mattress.
Neither of you spoke right away.
Zayne traced slow, lazy circles on your bare skin, grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality of you. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still uneven but calming, syncing with yours.
Then, in the quiet, his lips tipped into a smirk against your temple.
“So… does this mean I can finally call you my girlfriend?” His voice was lower now, teasing but laced with something real—something hopeful.
He pulled back slightly, eyes searching yours in the dim light. “Or do I have to seduce you all over again?”
His grin was cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you—like he needed this answer.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, a slow, tired smile spreading on your lips as you exhaled softly.
"I think you already have," you whispered.
The tension broke as he let out a satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you closer, holding you like he never wanted to let go.
And you didn’t want him to.
Not now.
Not ever.
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sun-kissy · 1 month ago
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balm | bucky barnes
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bucky barnes x reader — ★ — wc 1k
summary: bucky finds out that you got a (minor) bruise and didn’t tell him about it
tw: fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of accident and bruise, reader gets a little guilty, bucky gets a little upset
“Hey,” you feel Bucky’s hands on your hips, the soft touch of his lips to your cheek. “Hey, doll. Did you get lovelier over the weekend?”
You try to ignore the stinging sensation where his hand rests against your waist. You turn around to face him, abandoning your task of chopping the vegetables.
“Bucky,” you smile softly, arms going around his neck. He grins and kisses you again. “Hi. I missed you.”
“So did I, pretty girl,” he murmurs, thumbing at the skin underneath the edge of your shirt. He’s gentle as always, but the pain is almost unbearable. You try not to squirm. “There were so many times I almost called. But of course, Sam wouldn’t let me. You know, strictly classified location and all that.”
Bucky had gone on a mission over the weekend, and had just gotten back a couple hours ago. You let yourself into his apartment as soon as you got a text from him.
He’d mentioned craving pasta, so you started making some. The only thing you were trying to think about right now was making him feel loved after what must have been an exhausting few days.
You hum understandingly, turning back towards the kitchen platform and picking up the knife. Your shoulders almost sag with relief when Bucky lets go of your hips and stands beside you.
He eases the knife out of your hands, ignoring your protests. “Seriously, doll, it’s okay. I can do this. Why don’t you get started on the pasta?”
“Fine,” you sigh, moving to make way for your boyfriend to use the chopping board.
Bucky chuckles at your stubbornness. He glances over as you stand on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard above the stove.
One moment, you’re rummaging through the shelf to find pasta, and the next, you feel his strong hands curving around your stomach and pulling you back down.
“Bucky —“
“What —“ Bucky interrupts, spinning you around. His hands find your shirt. “— is that?” He lifts it up, lightly brushing his fingertips over the dark purple lying just above your waistline. You try not to flinch. He notices, his frown deepening.
“It’s a… um… a bruise.”
“I know it’s a bruise, doll,” Bucky sighs. He crouches to get a better look at it, and you feel your muscles tensing up. From the stress or the pain, you’re not sure. “I mean, how did you — when did you get this? How did this happen?”
You swallow. His concern makes your heart squeeze in awful ways. “I, um… I got it today.”
“Today?” his gaze flicks up to yours worriedly as he stands up straight. “How?”
“Well, so you see,” you suck in a breath, “there was this other car which crashed into mine from behind —“
“What?!”
“No! Wait,” you grab his hands desperately, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s not as bad as you think it is, really. Just let me finish.”
You could’ve sworn he was glaring at you, but he kept his mouth shut.
“So, nothing major happened —“ you gulp at his deadpan look, “— really! I just got jerked a litte from the impact, and the steering wheel hit me.”
“This hard?”
You confirm it with a nod.
Bucky exhales, fingers finding the rough patch again as he slips his fingers under your shirt. He presses it gently. You wince. “Did you at least get it cleaned up?”
The guilty expression on your face tells him enough. But you still confirm it with a feeble, “no.”
His eyebrows bunch together. “That can’t be good,” he mutters to himself, tugging on the waistband of your shorts to get a better look. “Can you please come to the toilet with me? I think we should disinfect it.”
You’re too overwhelmed with shame to do anything but agree. You let Bucky pull you to the washroom, manoeuvre you with his kind hands to sit on the closed toilet seat. He sits below, first aid kit in his lap.
You know he’s upset, even if he doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t show in the gentle way he wipes a washcloth over the area; the way he rests his chin on your knee as he works.
But it does show when he starts to apply the antiseptic cream. You hiss between clenched teeth, and he seems to have been reminded of the fact that you’re in pain, that you were in pain and you didn’t bother telling him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You don’t reply, opting instead to bite down on your lip. Bucky is quick to reach for your face, gently pulling it free from your assail.
He asks again, softer, like he wasn’t kind enough the first time. It makes you feel like a bitch.
“You just got back, you know,” you mumble. “You’re probably exhausted, and — and sick of me, and…”
“Sick of you?” he interrupts quietly, something akin to confusion on his features. He sounds hurt. “I could never be sick of you, doll. And… and I missed you. You know I missed you.”
Once again, you don’t know what to say. He doesn’t need you to.
“Listen,” he murmurs, tugging your shirt back down, “It’s my job to worry about you, okay? I don’t want you worrying about me worrying about you. Because I want to.”
“Are you sure —“
“I’m sure, lovely girl,” he says, getting up on his knees to kiss you. You bend forwards, feeling his affection soothe over you like a balm.
Bucky pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Promise not to hide things like these from me again, okay? I want to care about you.”
“You want to care about me.”
“I do,” he murmurs, smiling slightly at the awe in your tone. “I do, doll. I love you.” He presses a kiss to your nose. “I love you.”
Bucky revels in the beauty of your smile when you say it back, the first real one he got from you all evening. He was glad to be home.
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valalice · 2 months ago
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۶ৎ dating older gf! caitlyn kiramman and having to endure the drastic ways the two of you text. cw. age gap (two consenting adults, about a 10 year age gap). reader is a college student. slightly suggestive. a somewhat modern au?
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when you first started dating caitlyn you found it endearing and rather cute at how proper she texts you. always making sure to start her sentences when a capital letter and having correct punctuation. going out of her way to correct your speach : "Remember to capitalize I's, darling." // "There should've been a comma between there." // "So many exclamation marks, my baby must be really excited."
she also became rather familiar with all of your quick abbreviations, but not without questioning them : "What does PMO mean?" // "At this point, I know that one!" // "ABT means about?" // "I know BRB. Do you really think I'm that old?"
no matter at what stage you and caitlyn are at she will always keep sending you those chivalrous texts that makes your heart flutter when you read them. they started during the early stages of dating and they just happened to stick : "Good morning, Baby. Just made it to the office, already counting down the hours until we meet up for lunch." // "I hope your classes haven't been too draining today. Remember to eat and stay hydrated!" // "I miss you, pretty girl. Would you mind if I stopped by for a moment to see you?" // "You just continue to take my breath away."
older gf! caitlyn loves to spoil you by randomly sending you money, screenshots of purchases she got for you, or secret gifts that pop up in front of your door. she doesn't think twice when she sends you money or spends money on you, it's so casual for her to care for you in this way. but, it was, and still is an adjustment to openly accept the large quantities of money she sends to your bank account : "Don't worry about it, darling. You deserve it with all your hard work." // "Got you a little gift. X" // "Spoil yourself for me while I'm away on this conference." // "Look outside your door." // "I have your rent covered for this month, love." // "Treat you and your friends to a dinner."
you love to see how you're rubbing off on her in the way she text. she isn't adapting all of your short abbreviations for words and sayings, but she had adapted the use of you "Adorable emoji faces." as caitlyn calls them, even though you try to tell her they aren't even emojis : "Going to be picking you up in a couple of hours. Can't wait to spend the weekend with you. :D" // "But you could also do homework at my place. ;)" // "The office loved those brownies you baked! You're such a sweetheart. <3" // "Work? >:( I told you I'd take care of you. No need for you to worry your pretty little head about anything."
and when you try to send her suggestive text and decide to be risky on her phone, on her internet, older gf! caitlyn is quick to put you in your place : "Don't start something you can't finish." // "You're being a little minx today, aren't you?" // "Mhm. You're too cute when you're needy." // "Where'd my good girl go, and why has she been replaced with a brat instead?" // "A please could get you a long way."
. . . as much as you tease older gf! caitlyn on being "so old" and "texting like an old lady" you find all her efforts at keeping up with you (and even correcting you) heartwarming.
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eyesonlybutterflies · 2 months ago
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Let me show you
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𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘺𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦
𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: experienced!Heeseung x inexperiencedf!reader
𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 5.0k
𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: smut, fuckboy!Heeseung, swearing, reader in denial of her feelings for Hee, reader also kind of oblivious, Heeseung is DOWN BADDD, jealousy if you look close enough, Heeseung is still a sweatheart, pet names (baby, darling, etc.), (neck) kissing, grinding/dry humping, very slight restraints, boob sucking, hair pulling, teasing, big dick Heeseung, oral (m and f receiving), praise, face painting, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare w gentleman!Heeseung, lmk if I missed anything
18+ 𝓜𝓝𝓓𝓘!!!
𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭
𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
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'She was soo good, y/n. I'm telling you if she even breathes in my direction I'd 100% fuck her again,' Heeseung shamelessy confesses to you. Heeseung and you have been friends since middle school and you're both now well into college. You've finally hit the age and stage where you openly talk about your sex lifes. Well... Heeseung's sex life.
It's not that you're an unattractive woman, in fact most of your female friends praise how amazing you look in every outfit, hype you up when you need it and all in all let you know you're very attractive.
Guys just haven't seemed to notice. Or at least, not many guys. You've been on a date or two, kissed a guy, even made out with someone, but that's it. You've never had sex, never given or received head, fuck you've never even touched a clothed penis.
Hearing all these stories from your friends kills your curious nature, '𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘣𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥?' It's so bad that it's come to the point you're considering asking Heeseung to show you. I mean, he's your friend, you trust him and there are no feelings involved. It'd be a teaching moment for you and just another night for Heeseung.
Eventually you always pushed away that thought. It was just a stupid idea you had when you were horny and you chose Heeseung because he's the most attractive out of all your male friends. The first time had to be with someone you were actually into. Still, for some reason you felt the need to make him aware of your... situation.
'Hey Hee,' You shyly start. 'Mmh?' He says as he's staring at his phone, probably looking through his texts to see who to hook up with next. 'Have you never noticed I don't share my sex stories?' He stops and looks at you, 'Yeah, but I assumed you just didn't feel comfortable sharing.' 'Actually... I, I'm a virgin.'
Heeseung drops his phone in response. His eyebrows are raised and eyes so wide he looks like a deer in headlights, 'What??' 'I know it's embarrassing! I just, UGH!' You scream before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it, not being able to bare the embarrasment and too scared to make eye contact with Heeseung again.
A gentle force takes away the pillow you use to hide your face, Heeseung's face replacing the darkness of the pillow. His eyes soft, empethatic. 'Y/n, are you serious?' 'Yes and it's embarrassing, I don't even know why I told you, just forget it,' You ramble. You only had thoughts of telling Heeseung, not actually expecting you to have the balls to say it, and most certainly not Heeseung getting so close to you after your confession.
It'd have been a lot easier if he had just laughed in your face, whether it was because he didn't believe it or because he can totally understand why. Him just being a couple centimeters away from you was not what you had expected. It switched something inside you. You saw him from a different perspective, literally.
You'd never saw him as anything but your friend. Heeseung who was kind, Heeseung who made fun of you, Heeseung who took care of you when you needed someone. You never read into it too much. Why would you? He never confessed his feelings to you and it seemed like he was thinking of the next woman to fuck whilst still laying in bed with the previous woman.
But now that he's so close, you can almost look into his soul. The playboy facade almost seems to fade right in front of your eyes. However you quickly push it away. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.
He snaps you out of your thoughts when a hand lands on your cheek, 'Did you hear what I asked you?' You were so in your thoughts you didn't even notice Heeseung asking you a question. 'N-no, sorry.' With a smile, his beautiful smile, he asks again, 'Have you ever kissed before?' 'Oh god yes I have! I'm not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 inexperienced!'
'Good, a pretty girl like you deserves appreciation.' Your cheeks flush, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺? Heeseung clearly sees your confusion and just laughs. 'You're just fucking with me! You fuckboys always say stupid shit like that!' You push him away, lowkey mad about the fact he'd play with your feelings in such an intimate moment.
Heeseung repositions himself next to you and you quickly grab a pillow to hug, both for you comfort and defense from Heeseung. 'I would never joke about that. Not when it comes to you.' Your head snaps to him, 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' 'Oh baby, please don't tell me you're that oblivious?' What??????
'You remember all those late nights where we would watch movies together freshman year of college because you felt homesick? God I can still remember all the songs in Mamma Mia.' 'What does that have to do with this?' 'Do you really think I'd do that with anyone else? I even cancelled bro nights with the boys to spend time with you.' 'But why are you in other women's bed every weekend?' You completely ignore the fact he basically confessed to liking you, only the other women he's been with occupy your mind.
'Because I've been waiting for you.' 'Heeseung what are you even SAYING right now?' You stand up, creating space between you two. Nothing is making sense right now. 'Y/n, I've had feelings for you since the day we met. Those feelings are still very strong, but I never dared telling you about them. I saw the way you were talking with other guys and just assumed you were hooking up, no strings attached with others and you just didn't feel comfortable telling me. So I did the same, but trust me, I wish it was you every time.'
The only thing you can do is throw your hands up to you head. Your mouth is hanging open but nothing is coming out. Everything is slowly starting to make sense. 'Why didn't you say anything?' You finally get out. All Heeseung does is stare at you. He studies your face, your body language, he's studying 𝘺𝘰𝘶. But not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Like he's been waiting for this moment for so long and it's unfolding even better than he could have ever imagined.
'Heeseung, please talk!' You almost get frustrated, feeling tears in your eyes as you feel both confused, relieved and scared. He stands up, walks over to you and puts his hands on your waist. 'I'm sorry baby,' is all he says before he leans in to kiss you. Only he doesn't close the distance.
'Is this okay, darling?' You nearly melt into his touch as he moves one hand to your cheek and smiles. The kiss starts soft. Initially long and slow touches of your lips turn into more hungry motions as you both realise you're actually kissing each other and this isn't just a dream.
After years of yearning and denial, you're finally kissing.
And it feels good. Heeseung naturally takes the lead, licking your bottom lip as to ask for permission. You grant him that permission immediately, going in to grab his cheeks to prepare yourself for the lightheadedness he's going to give. Because if there's one thing you've learned about Heeseung's stories, it's that he knows how to kiss.
The kiss grows deeper. Heeseung pushes his lips into yours like he's a starved man. His tongue desperately searching for yours and once there's a steady, consistent rythm to your dancing tongues, something clicks in him.
Both his hands travel down to your ass and, without warning, lifts you up. A small shriek escapes out of your mouth ahead of you wrapping your legs around Heeseung. He leads the both of you back onto your bed. He very gently lays you on your back, as if you're made of marble and ready to crack at movement a little too harsh.
You wrap your arms around Heeseung's neck, letting him know you never want to change the scenery. Heeseung is so turned on by how beautiful you look under him, completely his and not wanting anything else that he's starting to moan in your mouth and slowly grind against your crotch. You push him slightly away, looking at him with large eyes, unsure of what to make of this situation.
Heeseung gets the hint and looks at you with concerned eyes, 'Is this too fast, baby?' You shake your head, gulping loudly. 'I've just never done more than making out,' you start, 'I've only kissed and made out with like 3 guys, never anything more.' 'Not even this?' He says as he presses his erection into your heat. You gasp and that's enough confirmation for Heeseung.
'Are you okay with us doing this?' Sweet Heeseung, always making sure you're okay and comfortable ever since the beginning. You nod, 'I actually... kind of want you to be my first.' Noticing his confusion you continue, 'I've been thinking about, you know, this, a lot and if I had to choose someone to do it with, I'd choose you.'
The smile that slowly creeps up Heeseung's lips give you butterflies, and not just in your stomach. 'Really?' He asks in that attractive ass expression, his eyebrow raised, a light smirk and slight sparkly eyes. You nod shyly, biting your lip to prevent yourself from saying something any more stupid. 'Well, baby, I'll make sure you won't regret this.'
Before he can resume the intimate kiss, you still slightly push him away, looking at him with doe-eyes, 'Is this gonna change us?' 'I better fucking hope it will.' The kiss picks back up right where it left off, except that it feels more intimate.
Heeseung's hands start to roam your body, starting at your cheeks, slowly going down and eventually landing on your boobs. He can feel your perky nipples through your shirt and it's making his buldge grow even tighter. 'Off,' he demands and you comply, taking your shirt off swiftly, making your tits bounce.
Sounds of you two kissing has stopped because of Heeseung's newfound focus on your boobs and looking at them in admiration. You get a little timid, never having shown them to a boy before, but as you try to hug yourself to hide them, Heeseung quickly grabs your wrists and firmly press them above your head. 'Don't hide,' he snarls, 'you're too pretty to hide.'
A warm flush spreads over your already burning cheeks. All this praise, action and physical contact making you lightheaded 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥. Your tomato-red face seems to go unnoticed by Heeseung who is too busy slowly feeling your right boob with one of his hands. Not soon after his hot, wet mouth attaching to your left boob.
The sudden contact makes you gasp and your back arches slighty. Heeseung smiles against your chest, loving every second. He sucks on your nipple and as he detaches from it, he faintly lifts your boob with his mouth and makes a pop sound as he releases it again, only for it to bounce back erotically. 'Fuck you're making me rock hard,' he says before promptly going in again.
This time he's making out with your right nipple. He's slowly releasing your hands and repositions his on your waist. Whilst his mouth is busy licking your tits, sucking loudly on your nipples and moaning inbetween your tits, he's slowly grinding against your still-clothed, but slicky wet pussy. 'Baby you feel so good,' breathy sighs escape his mouth, 'I bet you feel so tight.'
One of your hands travel to his hair and holds a harsh grab. You pull his face away from your boobs and see he already has a foggy expression from just your tits. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘵. Never in your years of friendship did you think you'd end up in your bed with your hot friend who looks like he's almost cumming in his pants from just touching your breasts.
As you're pulling him back up towards your lips, a string of moans escape Heeseung's swollen lips. 'What's wrong, Hee?' You ask him with fake concern. 'I need you so bad,' he whines, 'Need to feel your wet pussy tightening around my cock.' You smirk as you let your free hand graze over his body until it lands on his crotch.
You become aware of just how horny he must be. You slowly start to rub his hard-on. Heeseung is absolutely falling apart on top of you. Every brush of a touch feels overwhelming.
'Please keep touching me.' 'Yeah you like it when I do that?' 'Yes, Y/n, and don't fucking stop.' Deep sighs and low moans are exchanged before you signal for him to lay on his back. Heeseung catches on to what you're trying to do as you lift his shirt and unbuckle his pants with the sweetest expression on your face, 'You don't have to do this if you don't want to.' 'I want to, I really do. I've been waiting for so long to do this.' Your excitement alone makes his cock twitch dangerously hard.
Just because you're inexperienced and nervous, doesn't mean you aren't the usual tease towards Heeseung. Very slowly undo his belt and even do him the honour of taking the belt off of his pants. You throw it somewhere in your room, but Heeseung doesn't care what you did with it, he just needs to get his dick out of his restricting boxers. And he will let you know he doesn't like this slow pace.
'Fuck, Y/n, stop doing that and just take it off.' You giggle, but refuse his wish. As slowly as you possibly can you pull just his pants off of him. Heeseung throws his head back as he feels less and less restraint against his dripping cock.
The only piece of clothing remaining from exposing his dick are his boxers, but even with just that you can tell how big he is. Your mouth is slightly agape as you look up at Heeseung's face. When you make eye contact Heeseung's face turns into a big smirk. He gently caresses you cheek, 'You can take it, baby. I know you can.'
Once you've built up all the courage you can, you hook your fingers around his waistband and pull his boxers down. His dick escapes immediately with a soft slap as it hits Heeseung's stomach. His balls and length are twitching from the exposure. It's veiny, very veiny. His tip is a redish pink from how long he's been hard and its slightly covered in pre-cum. He's more lengthy than girthy, but it's still wide enough where you 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 you're gonna have trouble walking the next day.
So mesmerized by his cock, you're only making eye contact with it instead of looking at Heeseung's scrunched up face. After you've stripped him free from his boxers, you slowly start to touch him. First it's a finger to see his penis bounce, then you wrap your entire hand around him, hearing Heeseung take in a sharp breath.
Slow pumps follow, unconsiously leaving your mouth hang open a little and Heeseung doesn't think twice before putting his thumb in your mouth, 'Suck on it.' You start sucking on his thumb, warming up your tongue before taking him in your mouth in a different way. Your pumps start to speed up and you're including his tip into the pumps as well.
When you hit that sensitive spot at the back of his tip just right, the most beautiful moan escapes from Heeseung, 'Your mouth, baby.' 'You think I'm ready?' 'I know you are. You're such a good girl sucking my thumb and jerking me off.' You bite your lip before gradually coming closer to his tip.
You start by licking the top of his tip, looking him deep into his eyes to see how much effect you have on him. A groan escapes his mouth, signalling for you to take more of him, and so you do. You take his entire tip in your mouth and start to swirl your tongue around it, stopping at that same sensitive spot. Moving the flat part of your tongue up and down with still just his tip in your mouth.
'Oh my fucking god,' Heeseung whimpers, 'You're sure you've never done this?' You keep bobbing your head at the same spot until you can feel his tip spasm. Without warning you start to take in 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of him. Surprised by the sudden move, Heeseung grabs your hair and unintentionally thrusts his hips upward, hitting the back of your throat, 'Shit, baby, I'm sorry.'
The words aren't reaching your ears because of the surprising pleasure you got from getting accidentally throatfucked. Something in your brain changes and you start to pick up the pace of your head movement. Heeseung is taken aback by it, but can't do anything about it since you make him feel too good.
Taking him all the way, at a quick tempo and not being used to this length has you gaggingly shamelessly. Saliva is dripping down your chin and tears are starting to form in your eyes. However you ignore all of those things. Seeing just how good you're making Heeseung feel makes you want to go harder, faster, deeper. You want him so deep in your throat, you don't even care if you get a collapsed lung.
Whilst your mouth is bouncing of his rock hard cock, you grab his balls. Massage them lightly and occasionally giving them a lick or slight sucking. 'Right there, darling. Aah shit ah,' is all Heeseung can moan. His eyes strictly on you, but his mind so far away, he's not even sure you're actually doing this to him.
'Fuck I'm gonna cum.' He groans, head thrown back, preparing for the load he's about to release. You're not sure what to do and whether Heeseung likes shooting everything down your throat or painting your face, so you keep your mouth attached to him, sucking him off through his orgasm.
Very soon after you start to feel sharp loads shoot to the back of your throat. You try to not waste a drop of his cum, but fuck he's cumming a lot. When you think he's finally done you detach your mouth from his dick, a mewl escapes Heeseung's mouth by the sudden cold.
To your surprise, he was not done cumming. A few strands of his cum land right on your face, still painting your face. Once Heeseung is back on earth and looks at you he sees you trying to wipe away the remaining cum, 'Stop.' You stop in your tracks and Heeseung sits up straight right in front of you.
One of his hands reach towards your face and his thumb is gently cleaning the spots on your face you hadn't cleaned yet. 'Open your mouth.' You obey and Heeseung puts his thumb back into your mouth, 'Good girl, cleaning up the mess you made.' Heeseung is looking at you with so much fondness, loving the fact you're just as filthy as him.
Without you having much say, Heeseung grabs your waist and makes you switch positions. 'Now show me that pretty pussy,' is all he says before sliding off your bottoms. 'Fuck, Hee, please make me feel good.' 'Don't worry about that, darling,' he gives you a quick wink as he's pulling his top off.
His warm mouth connecting with your clit sends shivers down your spine. He takes his time as he starts licking it, making sure to keep his eyes on you to confirm you're feeling every single movement. The licking slowly starts to turn into sucking as one of his fingers is teasing the walls of your hole, loving the way it's clenching down on nothing.
'Hee, oh my god yes, put it inside.' Heeseung fulfils your wish and his long fingers enter your pussy. A gasp slips out of your mouth and you clench down on him. 'Aww, baby, already too much?' 'N-No! I just, ah shit-' It's mind-boggling just how much power he has with just one finger.
At a slow pace he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, deeper with each time he puts his finger back in your cunt. 'Hee, oh fuck, yes!' Your words slurring the deeper he pumps into you. At some point he's still fucking you with just one finger and all you do is babble, producing more sounds than words. Heeseung fucking loves you like this, so he decides to add another finger to see how you'll react to that.
The second finger enters your already tight pussy and it sends your head spinning. You constrict so tightly around Heeseung, he almost thinks you're cumming, 'Holy shit, this is what just fingers do to you, dear?' 'O-Only- fuck shit- only yours,' you manage to get out.
With the biggest grin on his face he asks, 'Mmh your fingers don't have this effect?' You shake your head. 'Shit, baby, I guess we'll just have to do this more often,' he says before diving back in. This time he takes his fingers out of you and starts tongue-fucking you.
Two hands fly to his hair, trying to pull him away, 'Too much?' You nod. 'Wanna stop?' You shake your head. Heeseung snickers against your core. While he goes back to your hole, trying to push his tongue up to your sweet spot this time, his nose brushes against your clit.
The combination of stimulation has you close. Your cunt grips to Heeseung's tongue, your hands use his hair as support and your thighs start to shake violently. Heeseung continues eating you out even through you closing your legs. His head is now stuck between your inner thighs and dripping wet cunt.
If there's one place he wants to die, it's right here.
'S-shit- gonna cu-cum!' Is the last thing you yelp before a wave of ecstasy flows through you like you've never experienced before. 'Good girl, cum on my face,' Heeseung mumbles against your core whilst still riding you through your high.
'Are you okay, darling?' You nod, mind still in another place. 'Good. Are you ready for my cock now?' A finger enters your hole. Heeseung streches you out, making sure you can still take his girth. 'Your pussy certainly is.' You look at him, he's smirking wide, waiting for your verbal consent before rocking your world.
'Please be gentle,' you say as your mind slowly gets back to earth and realisation hits you that you're really about to lose your virginity to your hot friend, of whom you could only dream of fucking. 'Always, my pretty baby.'
An even darker red blush spreads your cheeks as you push yourself up a little more straight. Heeseung notices what you're trying to do and lifts you up, firm but tender. 'Are you comfortable?' 'Yeah, are you?' Your innocent, sweet, but still dazed eyes makes Heeseung's cock twitch so hard, he has to physically restrain himself from slamming his cock deep in your pussy right now.
'Y/n, baby, I'm always comfortable with you. If you're feeling any doubt, even if it's really small, tell me. We can do this another time if you're too worn down or are having d-' You interrupt his rambling by crashing your lips onto his.
'Fuck me, Heeseung. I need you.'
That's all Heeseung needs to hear. He lines himself up with your heat, teasing you by grinding against your fold, but not entering your gaping hole. 'Hee, stop playing, fuck me.' You say exasperated.
At a steady pace he slowly enters you. Both of you are gasping. Heeseung's cock larger inside of you than you expected. Heeseung on the other hand has to restrain and repeat to himself to take it slow. He sees how you're struggling taking even a fifth of him, so he can't just slam himself inside you.
After Heeseung has completely dissapeared inside of you, he stops, letting you adjust. 'You look so gorgeous right now.' Your hands shoot up to your face. You're so red you feel like your head is about to detonate. Heeseung caresses your head, smiling from ear to ear. 'Is my pretty girl ready for me to move?' You nod and Heeseung leisurely moves out of you.
Once out of you, he enters again, but this time filling you up a bit quicker. This continues until he's just short from jamming into you. 'You okay, dear?' 'Mmh.' Your face crunches up, hands now placed on Heeseung's back. He dips down to plant a kiss on your cheek, 'You're doing so good, taking me so good.'
'Hee, harder please.' Embarrassment smeared on your face as soon as the words slip out of your mouth. 'You want it harder?' He beams, 'Didn't see you as such a dirty girl, baby.' A moan comes out as Heeseung immediately ups the pressure.
His cock hitting you against your cervix, balls slapping against cunt and heavy breaths escaping Heeseung's mouth. He's such a mess, but he doesn't want to let you know. He doesn't want to let you know how much of an effect you have on him. He usually lasts rounds without cumming, but with you? God he grips the bedsheet beside your head so tight, his knuckles turn white, he's focusing more on not cumming than to pound inside you at a consistent rate.
But when your pussy clenches down hard on him due to hitting a mind-blowing spot inside you, he drops his head in your neck. He's biting his lips hard and grips your waist to stop you from creating more friction. 'Y/n, fuck you're gonna make me cum.' One of your hands glides to his hair. You pull his face up to look you in the eyes. You want to show him how good he's making you feel, since his dick makes you unable to make sentences.
'Hee, good, so fucking good.' 'You like it?' 'Uh-huh.' You bob your head fast. Heeseung's mouth falls open, he knows he's close. You can feel he's close too and you slam your lips together, kissing him fiercly.
Like a bomb, Heeseung explodes. Shots of hot cum hitting you deep in your pussy. Your tongues stop dancing as the only thing exchanging between you two are moans. The warm liquid inside you not only gives a mouth-watering sound, but makes everything feel extra sticky as Heeseung is slowly fucking the cum out of your pussy.
Heeseung pulls back, not just his mouth but his entire body. You don't want to stop. You wrap your legs around Heeseung's waist and your hands around his neck and passionately pull him back in, 'Not done yet, Hee.' Heeseung is surprised by your almost desperate attitude, but fucking loves it.
Sloppy thumps of his cock in your pussy continue. Heeseung ignores the overstimulation. How can he when you look so pretty and fucked out underneath him? So desperate for a climax, completely ignoring Heeseung's struggle to selfishly pursue the best orgasm you've ever had
Briskly, Heeseung repositions himself where he's not laying on top of you, but able to grab your thighs and fuck you hard. And so he does. He slams hard inside you, making sure he's hitting your G-spot. He rams in at a pace that has you gasping, crying and screaming all within 5 seconds. 'You like that, huh?' 'Yes! Heeseung yes!'
As your thighs start to shake and your cunt starts to clench down on him again, Heeseung knows you're gonna have an even better orgasm than before. From the overstimulation still lingering from your previous orgasm to the delicious moans coming from Heeseung's mouth, your whole body feels like it's gonna fall apart.
'Heeseung!' You scream in a high pitch as you're send over the edge. Everything collapses; your legs close tightly around Heeseung's body, your lower body moving up in the air before falling back in the mattress for your back to arch tall, pussy contracting Heeseung's cock so hard he can barely move as it's almost making him cum again, your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth falling open with only moans and variations of Heeseung's naming falling from your lips, your hands latch on Heeseung's back and your nails digging deep into his skin, and sweat dripping down from every inch of your body.
Your head is pushed deep into the pillow with your neck strained. Once you've come back to your senses you see a proud Heeseung looking at you. His eyes shining and a smile sweet like candy. 'Knew my girl could do it.'
He slips out of you and quickly dissapears into the bathroom. Your head is still too hazy to comment something. Heeseung returns with a damp washcloth and starts cleaning you up. No words are exchanged as he cleans everything from you thighs to your face. He gently lifts you up in bridal style and sets you down on the chair at your desk. Before you can ask, Heeseung grabs a new set for everything for your bed.
When he's done he sighs, happy with himself. He grabs you a new pair of underwear and shirt and puts them on for you. You're amazed at how gentleman he is. Almost as if he can read your mind, Heeseung says, 'Only for my princess.'
Smiles are exchanged as he carries you back onto the, now freshly made, bed. You shyly close the distance between the two of you when Heeseung claims his spot next to you. Noticing your hesitation, he takes the initiative and places you on his chest. You hear his steady heartbeat in the comfortable cuddle as you both drift off to sleep.
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𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! <𝟑
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norrisainz33 · 3 months ago
Text
announcement || mv33
☆ summary: max and his private wife have been keeping a big secret
☆ pairing: max verstappen x private!nonfamous!wife!reader
☆ fc & warnings: amata alp & mentions of pregnancy
☆ requested: yes! thank you for your patience 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
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maxverstappen1: glad you’re with y/bff tho i do wish you were here my love
ynverstappen: i wish i was there too. i hate having to miss your races
maxverstappen1: i know you do sweetheart but you’ve got big things to worry about right now 🤍
ynverstappen: i know i just wish you were here to worry about them with me!
ynverstappen: ugh i’m sorry i know you have no choice in the matter
maxverstappen1: don’t apologize liefje. i know this is not like the easiest time for me to be away! i will be home so soon so i can help take care of you
carmenmundt: y/n where have you beeeeeeen it’s been so long!!
ynverstappen: been very busy with work and with holding down the fort here in monaco!! i hope to be back at some races soon 🤍
alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous girl i miss you
ynverstappen: i miss you too babes
yourbff: my baby
ynverstappen: my girl
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f1gossip: during todays redline stream the chat was flooded with questions about the whereabouts of y/n verstappen who has been absent from the paddock for the past couple of months. while y/n is relatively private and we don’t usually get many social media updates from her outside of her interior design firm’s posting, she almost never misses the opportunity to support max on a race weekend let alone several in a row. max assured the chat that y/n was ok and that she was just taking some time to herself and that she’d be back in the paddock soon enough. what do you all make of this?
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user1: i’m so glad y/nmax are fine
user2: you could even hear her in the background at one point asking max what he wanted for dinner!! glad we are getting some crumbs
user4: omg ok good!! i thought that was her but couldn’t tell
user3: i was about to email her interior design firm to ask if she was ok thank god max updated us
user4: walk with me here guys…. what if we haven’t seen her bc she’s…… pregnant???
user6: oh my god you might be on to something!! they have been married for almost 2 years now
user7: no this is so believable!!! they’d make the best parents
user5: y/n’s ability to stay under the radar and unbothered is incredible
user8: y/n is the coolest wag i wish she was chronically online like so many of the others
user7: ugh fr!! i wish we could follow her on literally anything 💔
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francisca.cgomes: are you redoing part of your house? is this why you’ve been so busy and i haven’t seen my best friend for WEEKS
ynverstappen: partially yes!! we are redoing the spare room. BUT you’ll see me this weekend for my party kiks
francisca.cgomes: and my god i can’t wait!! i miss you
ynvertsappen: i miss you too
landonorris: plans for what?
ynverstappen: idk 🤷🏻‍♀️
landonorris: liar!
maxverstappen1: they’re going to have the sweetest room 🤍
ynverstappen: yes they are 🤍 i’m so proud of how it’s turning out
georgerussell63: the 🤭 makes this feel like i’m on the outside of an inside joke
ynverstappen: you just might be georgie!!
georgerussell63: well what does that even mean
yourbff: i am brimming with excitement i can’t wait for you to tell everyone this weekend
ynverstappen: me too!! keeping this secret has been so tough but ultimately it’s been really nice to have something that’s just for me and max even if just for a short while
yourbff: no i totally get that y/n/n!! max has to share his life with the whole world so im sure it’s nice to have those private moments
yoursibling: i need you to facetime me when you tell carmen and kika bc they’re going to lose their minds
ynverstappen: oh i absolutely will
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ynverstappen: i’m so glad all my favorite people could come celebrate the news 🩷 baby verstappen due in january 🤍 mommy and daddy love you endlessly already 💙
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carmenmundt: i can’t wait to be an aunty!!! best news ever 🤍
ynverstappen: and i can’t wait for you to be an aunty!! baby v is going to be so loved
carmenmundt: they already are!!
francisca.cgomes: can’t believe my favorite person in the world is going to be a mom 🥹
ynverstappen: love you kika 🥹
maxverstappen1: 💙🩷
ynverstappen: 😘😘
iamrebeccad: you’re going to make the perfect mom
ynverstappen: i really hope so 🤍
georgerussell63: blimey! i can’t wait to meet the little one!!
ynverstappen: only 3 more months!!
landonorris: uncle lando is reporting for duty
ynverstappen: baby v is going to love their uncle lan!!
maxverstappen1: baby v is already lucky to have you mate
alexandrasaintmleux: the most beautiful maman 🤍
ynverstappen: don’t make me cry again 😭
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maxverstappen1: grateful for moments like these away from the track. next week is race week again in vegas but for now, enjoy some family photos 🤍
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user1: my favorite couple maybe ever
user3: y/n sign of life!!
user4: sticking to my delulu and thinking he said family bc she’s having a baby
landonorris: see you all soon🤍
ynverstappen: see you soon lannyyyyyy
user4: he’s feeding into my delusions here…. bc why did he say you all instead of you both
user6: omg does this mean y/n will be in vegas????
ynverstappen: i love our little family 🫶🏻
maxverstappen1: me too gorgeous
user2: not me crying over this post?? the heart shaped pizzas sent me over the edge
redbullracing: looking forward to seeing you back on track!
ynverstappen has added to their story 🔒
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maxverstappen1: i have a tracker on your flight. i think the anxiety of you and the little one being on a plane without me is going to eat me alive
ynverstappen: we will be ok maxie i promise!! im on air max, it’s safe here
maxverstappen1: it is but also i’m not there so it’s not as safe as it could be
ynverstappen: my sweet boy, take a deep breath. you have quali soon
maxverstappen1: yes yes yes i’m breathing deeply
francisca.cgomes: well thank GOD i need you in the paddock
ynverstappen: pls come stay in rb hospitality w me
francisca.cgomes: for you i will just don’t tell pierre
charlesleclerc: on a scale of 1-10 how stressed is max
ynverstappen: 16
redbullracing: we can’t wait to see you!!
iamrebeccad: yayayayayayya!!!!!!!
ynverstappen: 😘😘😘😘😘😘
maxverstappen1 has made a post
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maxverstappen1: for all of you wondering where y/n has been…. needless to say we’ve both been a little busy getting ready to welcome baby verstappen. only a few more months till the little one makes us a family of 3 🤍
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user1: best news ever!!!!
user4: i knew it!!! omg 🥹
charlesleclerc: congratulations mate! i am so excited for you both
maxverstappen1: thank you charles 💙 baby v is so lucky to have an uncle like you
user16: im violently sobbing over this interaction you don’t understand
redbullracing: having a mini rb20 made for baby v as we speak
ynverstappen: oh gosh admin no
maxverstappen1: admin yes!!
redbullracing: uh oh awkward
landonorris: yayyyyyy!!!!!!!! i can’t wait to babysit!!
ynverstappen: you’re going to be the best babysitter ever
user7: she is glowing
user9: max and y/n are going to make the most beautiful parents
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f1gossip: here to share a recap of max’s first interview since announcing y/n’s pregnancy mere minutes after qualifying. he said he wanted to announce it before sunday because y/n was absolutely adamant about being in the paddock for vegas and there was no hiding her baby bump at 6 months. max said “i can’t wait to be a dad! it’s honestly something i’ve been dreaming of for years and i’m so grateful to my beautiful wife for giving me the greatest gift.”
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user2: this is by far the happiest i’ve ever seen max and i am crying
user4: i love max and y/n so much i cant
user15: the way he talked about their baby ??? he already loves that little one so much
user18: i think having a baby is healing his inner child
user3: i love love love love love these 2
user19: crying screaming throwing up
user20: project verstappen!! lfg!!! next wdc champion incoming
user5: her refusing to miss another race is so real of her
user8: thank god she’s gonna be back in the paddock max needs her luck
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs always appreciated 🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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insanechayne · 1 year ago
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whytheylosttheirminds · 4 months ago
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 2
(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.9k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
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After weeks of all-nighters and cramming for finals, sleeping in on your first morning at the beach house felt incredible. It was only 9:30 when you finally stirred in the comfy bed, but it felt late in the day.
Coming down the stairs in your pjs and slippers, you smiled at the sound of your sister’s voice, joking around with her old friends. Your goal this trip was for her to have a good time, and despite the emotional rollercoaster of seeing Rafe yesterday, at this moment, you were glad you decided to stay. You entered the room to see half the house was awake, though neither Rafe or Tom had made an appearance yet.
“Ladies and gentleman, it’s Kerri Walsh Jennings!” Topper deepened his voice like a sports announcer when you entered the kitchen. The few people who were up all turned to you, playfully bowing and applauding like you were a true Olympian. You grinned and rolled your eyes, surprised at how comfortable you felt with the unprecedented attention.
Topper was at the stove flipping pancakes for everyone’s breakfast, wearing an apron that said “kiss the cook.” As you approached the kitchen island to grab a stool next to your sister, he leaned over, holding the spatula like a microphone.
“So tell us, Kerri, now that you’ve won the gold what will you do next?”
“Well, Top,” you played along. “First, I’m going to get some coffee…then I’m going straight to Disneyland!”
Everyone in the kitchen laughed, making the tips of your ears turn red. No one ever laughed at your jokes in high school, not that you were confident enough to make many. Rafe would tell you sometimes that you were funny, so long as no one was around to hear him admit it.
“Well I can help you with the first part,” Topper said, grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.
“Wow, so domestic of you, Topper,” you teased as he poured your steaming coffee in front of you.
“He’s our house mother,” Carter said, smiling wide at Topper who did a jokey little curtsy motion. Clearly this was a running joke between them.
Topper handed you a plate of pancakes, which Kelce promptly reached over your shoulder to steal. 
“Since when are you such an athlete?” Kelce asked, his mouth already full with your breakfast.
You told them all about your team at school, surprised out of your mind that everyone was actually listening intently.
Rafe woke up groggy and sore, ducking his head as he walked through the basement and made his way up the rickety steps. As he reached for the handle of the door which opened into the kitchen, he smiled at the sound of your voice on the other side. His smile quickly faded when he heard Kelce interrupt you with, “Yeah and you kicked Rafe’s ass, too, made him your bitch.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” 
Every head in the kitchen whipped towards the sound of Rafe’s voice as he emerged, except for yours. You shuffled slightly on your stool and sipped your coffee. Rafe didn’t miss the way you were ignoring him, his eyes grazing quickly over the smoothe skin of your shoulders before redirecting to anything he could find. 
“Cute apron, Top,” he landed on.
“Thanks man,” Topper said, ignoring his mocking tone. “Want some flapjacks?”
“Ew, who calls them flapjacks?” Carter burst out laughing. 
“Well now you don’t get any,” Topper scolded, pulling her plate away from her and handing it to Rafe.
“I don’t want ‘em if Carter’s put her mouth near them,” Rafe mocked. “We don’t know where she’s been.”
“Says the guy who licked the gym floor in seventh grade,” you said quietly.
The entire room came to a halt, everyone surprised at the sound of you joining in on the teasing. No one had actually heard you address Rafe yet. The awkwardness hung in the air, all eyes going wide as they waited to see if the notorious hothead was going to be able to take what he was dishing out. You just picked at your pancakes with your fork and hoped everyone would move on, but Rafe smirked at you, a playful twinkle in his eye.
“That was on a dare,” he defended himself.
When you finally looked up at him, your stomach twisted into a knot as you noticed how cute he looked in his white undershirt and grey sweats, messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. You immediately regretted acknowledging that you remembered something he did so long ago. Now, he was looking at you with something like excitement, smug that you were talking to him, like your big triumph the day before had never happened. 
“Oh, I didn’t remember that part.” It was a lie, you remembered everything he ever said or did.
Rafe’s face dropped at your impassive tone, his brief window of hope that all was forgiven slammed shut.
To your great relief, Tom chose that moment to enter the room, drawing the attention away from you and Rafe. He had apparently been out on a run, and his under armor shirt, wet with sweat, clinged to his form to reveal a sculpted chest below.
“How we doin’ everyone?” His cheery voice boomed. He slapped Topper on the back before giving Kelce a frat bro handshake across the counter. “What do we have here?” He whistled appreciatively at the spread Topper had put out.
As Topper rattled on about the many flavors and shapes of pancakes he could offer, Tom looked over at you with a cheeky smile and mouthed “good morning!” You smiled back with a little wave, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the way he was singling you out. 
After the volleyball game last night, you’d all gone to a seafood restaurant on the water. Tom had chosen the seat next to you, and made extremely pleasant dinner company. He asked you all about yourself, about school and what you were planning for the future. He was a great listener, and you were so glad to have someone to chat normally with without the baggage of your childhood hanging over your head. You hoped the week would hold many more cozy conversations with him.
Unbeknownst to you, Carter was watching as you smiled at him in the kitchen, and so was Rafe. They had very different looks on their face as they realized at the same moment that something was happening between you and Tom.
After Topper and Kelce reclaimed Tom’s attention, talking over each other about their plans to go fishing later, Carter squeezed your elbow and motioned with a nod for you to follow her out onto the patio. 
“Ummm, okay, what was that?” Carter asked with arched eyebrows once you were settled on the patio couch next to her.
“Oh my god I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, do you think everyone will think it’s weird I remember something he did in seventh grade?” You asked worriedly.
Carter scrunched her brows in confusion for a minute before waving you off with her hand. “Oh, no not Rafe, he’s old news. I’m talking about your little moment with Tom!”
“Oh, uh,” you cleared your throat, embarrassed that you were still lingering on Rafe when she clearly wasn’t. “I don’t know, he’s nice.”
“He’s fucking gorgeous is what he is,” she fanned herself theatrically.
“Are you into him?” Your stomach dropped at the thought that she might be interested. In your eyes, Carter always had first pick, and surely if Tom thought she was interested he’d choose her over you in a heartbeat.
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m having too much fun messing with Topper.”
You laughed hard at that, “yeah, I noticed. Are you two back on again?”
“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You think if I play my cards right I could get him to propose?”
“I think you could probably get him to do just about anything,” you chuckled.
“Okay, then it’s settled, I’ve got Topper and you,” she poked at your side and you swatted her hand away, “will make a move on Tom.”
“I don’t know about ‘make a move,” you took a long sip of your coffee, suddenly anxious.
Carter eyed you curiously, recognizing the insecurity she hoped you had left behind now that things were going so well. She didn’t understand how you still couldn’t see how amazing you are, but she was determined to prove it to you by the end of this trip.
Rafe did his best not to stare at you through the sliding door, but when he heard your melodic laugh float in through the screen, he couldn’t help the way his head snapped toward the sound, wishing desperately that it was him making you laugh like that. You used to laugh at all his jokes, and he’d taken it for granted. The sad thing was, he actually loved hanging out with you. You had a great sense of humor, and he always felt so comfortable when it was just you and him. He knows now he should’ve just called it what it was, been with you in public too. But he had so many eyes on him back then, and he was worried what people would think. Plus, he knew you’d stick by him even if he treated you like shit, and he took advantage of that. He kicked himself mentally, feeling like a Grade A chump while you sat there, looking beautiful in the ocean breeze, smiling through the window at some guy you’d met yesterday.
As he lost himself in his thoughts, Topper noticed him staring at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
“She looks good, huh?” He asked Rafe.
“What?” Rafe shook his head as if he could erase the thoughts that were plaguing him. “Who?”
“Oh, come on,” Topper nodded towards you and Carter on the deck.
“I dunno,” Rafe tried to play it off. “She looks the same I guess, a little different.”
“Bro,” Topper gave him an incredulous look. “She’s a fucking smokeshow. You’re into her, don’t even try and fool me.”
“If you're so into her, why don’t you go for her?” Rafe snapped at him.
Topper shook his head, “maybe because I’m not the one she was obsessed with for a decade.”
“She wasn’t obsessed with me,” Rafe protested. “We were friends.”
“Right,” Topper said sarcastically. “And I was a number one draft pick. Dude, she was in love with you, everyone knew it.”
Rafe leaned forward on the counter, propped on his elbows, looking down at his uneaten pancakes with a frown. His stomach twisted with guilt. Of course everyone knew, he knew it too. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use your adoration of him to his advantage from time to time. Okay, all the time. He couldn’t really blame you for still being mad at him, he was a dick. But he liked to think he’d grown some since then, not that you had any reason to give him a chance to prove it.
“I think she’s into your buddy, Dom, or whatever his name is,” Rafe grumbled.
“First of all,” Topper pointed the spatula at him, “you know his name is Tom. And second of all, I love the guy, but he’s got nothing on you. Give me one day, she’ll be back.”
“Don’t do anything weird, man,” Rafe warned, cringing at the thought of what kind of damage an unsupervised Topper could inflict.
“Don’t worry dude, I got it handled,” Topper assured him.
Rafe just chuckled and sipped his coffee, knowing this was a losing battle, “whatever you say, Top.”
The door slid open and you and Carter reentered the kitchen. Tom stood from his place at the little breakfast nook when you walked in, and you were relieved that he ended his conversation with Maddie and Sabrina so abruptly at the sight of you. He smiled down at you before heading into the kitchen to help Topper clean up. Rafe was noticeably not helping, sitting at the counter scrolling on his phone.
“No phones,” Carter said, swiping it from him. 
“Give it,” he held his large hand out to her, jaw ticking with annoyance.
“C’mon Rafe, don’t you want to live in the present?” She badgered.
He tried to grab it quickly, but she lifted it above her head, tossing it to Kelce on the other side of the counter, who tossed it to Topper, and the game of hot potato continued, much to Rafe’s chagrin.
“Y’all are children,” he scowled, sitting back on the stool in defeat.
“Who are you even texting? All your friends are here,” Carter jeered.
“I was looking up directions to the grocery store, seeing as there’s no fucking food in this house besides beer, and apparently pancake mix,” Rafe explained.
“No need,” Topper said. “Tom, Kelce and I are spending the day on the water and we’ll grab some stuff on the way back.”
Carter frowned at the thought of both of your boys being gone the whole day, leaving little to distract you from Rafe. This wouldn’t do.
“No, you can’t go out today, we're having a cookout!” She announced to the room.
“We are?” Kelce scratched his head.
“Yes, we are,” Carter nodded confidently, wrapping her arm around Topper’s waist, which you knew was all it would take to get him to agree. “And mom here is going to grill for us.”
“Oh am I?” Topper asked, eyebrows raised in amusement, not exactly protesting.
“Yes, so someone else will need to go get the food,” Carter continued. You knew her well enough to see that a whole plan was unfolding in her head. “Sissy, why don’t you go?”
“That’s…fine,” you agreed reluctantly, narrowing your eyes at her, trying to figure out her play. “I need someone to go with me though, we’ll need a lot of stuff.”
Carter and Topper smiled in sync, both thinking they’d just come up with the best idea anyone has ever had.
At the same moment that Carter blurted out, “Tom can go with you!” Topper loudly suggested, “Rafe can take you!”
Your lips forming a tight line, you gave them both an exasperated look. Their heads snapped toward each other, eyeing each other suspiciously. Rafe scratched the back of his neck, annoyed at Topper for butting in and hating himself for hoping you’d choose to go with him and not Tom.
Tom, meanwhile, was watching all four of you from the corner of the room, never more confused in his life.
“It’s cool,” he said hesitantly, the awkwardness palpable. “All three of us can go.”
“Fine, but I’m driving,” Rafe stood from his seat. “Can I have my phone back now please?”
He reached his hand to Kelce, who was the last to have it. Kelce panicked, wanting to keep the game going, and tossed it to you. You very nearly dropped it, letting it bounce between your hands but eventually securing it before it fell.
You just looked at it in your hands, then up to Rafe and Tom, searching for any way out of what was sure to be an uncomfortable outing without being rude. You came up with nothing.
“I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you handed Rafe his phone, making Kelce shake his head at you in disappointment.
The hum of the truck’s engine was the only sound in the car for a solid five minutes. You sat in the front seat, Tom having opened your door for you, while Rafe drove. You suddenly couldn’t remember what people do with their hands when they’re not driving. Where the hell do you put your hands? Tom’s voice cut through your internal panic.
“So, uh Rafe, Top says you went to Chapel Hill?” He inquired, sitting forward in the backseat so his head appeared between you and Rafe,
“Still do,” Rafe said curtly.
You looked at Rafe for the first time since pulling out of the beach house driveway. You wanted to ask him why he hadn’t graduated on time, always more invested in his academics than he was, but you were trying to pretend you didn’t care.
“Nice, man,” Tom tried to keep the conversation going. “I applied there, it’s hard to get in.”
“I guess I just hit the books a little harder than you then,” Rafe shrugged.
A scoff escaped you before you had the chance to stifle it. Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“What was that?” Rafe looked sideways at you for a moment.
“Nothing,” you crossed your arms over your chest.
“No, please share,” he prodded. You couldn’t believe he was copping an attitude with you.
“It’s just, I’m sure your last name had nothing to do with your acceptance,” you quipped.
Rafe’s jaw clenched and you smirked in satisfaction, pleased that you had gotten under his skin. Tom’s eyes flicked between the two of you, trying to decipher the vibe.
You were glad he didn’t try to attempt any further small talk. Once you got to the grocery store, you divided the shopping list three ways and split up to your designated aisles. You filled your cart as fast as you could, eager to get this shopping trip over with.
After checking everything off your list, you rounded the corner of the produce section toward the registers, your cart nearly crashing into Rafe’s. His entire shopping cart was filled with alcohol. You laughed at the sight. 
“What?” Rafe asked defensively.
“What are the rest of us gonna drink?” You smirked.
“Shut up,” he grinned. “It’s not all for me.”
“Okay but where is the stuff you were supposed to get?”
“It’s under there somewhere,” he mused.
“Sure,” you just shook your head with a smile and kept walking towards the register.
“Shit, wait,” Rafe rolled his cart to you and ran back down one of the aisles.
“No don’t worry about me, I got it,” you muttered to yourself bitterly.
You started pushing both carts but Rafe appeared quickly at your side again.
“Got it,” he breathed, adding one more thing to his cart.
It was a case of Redbull. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, looking down into his cart. Redbull was his drink of choice in high school, you used to buy him one every day and bring it to him after practice, like a puppy fetching the morning paper. Rafe eyed you nervously, your soured expression leading him to believe you remembered just as well as he did. 
“Old habits die hard, huh?” You joked, trying to break the tense moment. 
“Yeah, can’t seem to kick that one,” he replied, relieved that you were the first to acknowledge it.
Tom caught up with you at check-out, his cart actually full of the things he was supposed to get. The three of you unloaded your goods to be rung up by a 16-year-old cashier who could not have been more annoyed that you had chosen his register.
Tom jumped in to help bag the groceries, chatting happily with the bag boy as he assisted. Rafe, however, stood there staring at his phone. 
After you finished emptying your cart, you watched Tom with a smile while he charmed the grocery store staff. Rafe looked up from his screen with a frown, stomach dropping when he saw that you were watching Tom with an affectionate smile.
“Is that everything?” The cashier asked hopefully.
You were about to say "yes" and also maybe "sorry" when Rafe cut you off.
“No wait, these too,” he reached toward the shelf and grabbed your favorite candy, looking at you expectantly as he handed it to the cashier.
“Your favorite,” he explained bashfully at the sight of your furrowed brows.
“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. “Just surprised you remember. Thanks.”
You looked at him for a moment longer than you should, your eyes lingering on each other’s as you shared another silent memory. You felt a twinge of nostalgia that you knew you shouldn’t.
While you and Rafe looked at each other, Tom pulled out his black card and entered it into the machine. Rafe noticed a moment too late and scrambled to pull his wallet from his pocket, fumbling for his credit card.
“Oh no, hey man, I was gonna get it,” Rafe finally pulled out the credit card he was looking for but Tom was already signing the screen with his finger.
“No worries dude,” Tom brushed him off politely. “You can get me back later this week.”
Rafe was the most competitive person you knew, and the richest, surely he wasn’t going to let another guy pay for everything and walk away. He opened his mouth like he was going to argue with Tom, but with a glance back at you he closed it again. Then he carried as many bags to the car as one person could possibly hold, mumbling something like "multiple trips are for pussies." 
Another fifteen minutes of painful silence might just make your head explode, you thought. The second you were back in the truck, the bed overflowing with groceries, you asked Rafe for the aux.
“What are you gonna play?” He sideyed you as he held it just out of reach. You leaned across the console to snatch it from his hands, and he felt pins and needles where your hand had brushed him. He wondered if you realized it was the first time you'd touched each other in four years.
The two of you had always fought over the aux, you’d eventually give in to his pouting and listened to his shitty house mixes and soundcloud rappers.
“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off with a grin.
Four years ago, you would have been way too nervous to play what you truly wanted to listen to, afraid Rafe wouldn’t think it was cool enough. But now, you pressed play on your go-to playlist with gusto and beamed when your absolute favorite song started booming through his subwoofers. 
Rafe tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t stop them from dancing back over to you as you sang along happily to your music. You rolled the window down, letting the humid Florida air raise your hair in a wave around you. You giggled and tried to tame it, eventually giving up and letting it whip around your face.
There was something so light about you. Something joyful and at peace. He placed both hands on the steering wheel, trying to ground himself, jealous of your carefree spirit. Whatever intangible thing you had managed to capture in your years apart, he wanted it. And it hit him like a lightning bolt, a bittersweet truth he had fought for so many years - he wanted you.
One song rolled into the next, and Rafe searched for something to say to keep up the almost-friendly banter you had begun in the store, but before he could come up with anything, Tom sat forward suddenly.
“Oh hey I love this song!” Tom informed you.
“Me too!” You turned to smile at him, and Rafe listened enviously as you and Tom chatted about the many favorite artists you have in common the rest of the way home.
The house was quiet when you returned, everyone either taking their daily hangover nap or down lounging by the beach. Rafe’s hands turned white from once again carrying as many plastic bags as he could. You tried not to laugh, and tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged under his tight t-shirt, but you failed at both.
“Are you laughing at me again?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement, placing the bags on the counter. “What is it this time?”
“Sorry, you’re just so helpful all of a sudden,” you pointed out with a smirk.
“Well bag boy over there wasn’t helping,” he nodded towards the patio, where Tom was taking a phone call.
“He said it’s a work call,” you defended him. “He just got a job in New York apparently, a Wall Street thing.
“Whatever,” Rafe mumbled. What he wanted to say was “since when are you two best friends?” but he had already been fairly gruff with you today and he was trying to refocus on his goal of getting you to like him again.
You and Rafe put the groceries away in silence for a while. You tried to find the right way to approach the question you were dying to ask, failing to convince yourself you didn't care about the answer.
“So,” you started nervously. “You didn’t graduate this year?”
Rafe’s shoulders tensed as he tried to make more room in the pantry.
“Nope,” he said shortly.
“Did you take some time off?”
He was torn between being glad that you were talking to him and mad that this was the topic you’d chosen to break the ice with.
“No, I-uh,” he cleared his throat. “I failed a couple classes my first year so I’m still a few credits behind.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, leaning down to put the ribs for the cookout in the large freezer.
“It’s my own fault,” he shrugged. “I was an idiot back then.”
When you stood from the freezer to grab another rack of ribs, you were surprised to see Rafe standing close, his body looming as he looked down at you.
“I was an idiot before then, too,” he continued, voice low and uncertain.
Everything in your mind went fuzzy as the blood rushed to your face. This was the first time you could smell him, and it familiarity of his scent made you feel like you were being transported back in time. You fought the urge to inhale deeply, greedy for the rush of him filling your senses.
“Before then?” You blinked up at him.
Rafe struggled to find his next words. It took everything in you not to fill in the blanks for him, like you were back in high school slipping him the answers to a test he hadn’t studied for. But this time, you needed him to find the answers all on his own. You swallowed hard, leaving silence for the words he was searching for. 
Before he could find them, Topper and Carter came barreling into the kitchen, mid-argument as always. They stopped short when they saw the scene in front of them. Rafe stepped away from you so quickly you could feel a woosh of wind in his wake. It was eerily reminiscent of your teenage years, Rafe separating himself from you as soon as there was anyone around to see you together.
“Everything okay?” Carter asked tensely, noticing the way your shoulders had fallen.
“Fine,” Rafe said, tossing the rest of the plastic bags in the trash and heading down the stairs to his basement bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Damn, you two did good,” Topper said, admiring the cornucopia of food you’d brought back.
“You three,” Carter corrected. “Tom went too.”
She walked up next to you and lowered her voice, a sly smile on her face, “and how did it go with Tom?”
You didn’t match her playful mood, completely preoccupied thinking about the moment you and Rafe had just shared. Was he about to apologize to you? What would you have let him do if your sister and psuedo-brother-in-law had entered the room just a minute later?
“It was fine,” you said distractedly, closing the fridge and heading upstairs to your room.
Carter turned on her heel and looked at Topper with a frown, shocked to find him beaming back at her.
“What are you smiling for?” She snarled.
“Oh nothing, seems like my plan is working is all,” he grinned. “They were standing awfully close when we walked in.”
“Your plan?” She stepped closer to him, arms crossed. “What are you up to Thornton?”
“Just playing a little Cupid,” he smiled proudly.
“Okay well you can go ahead and put down the bow and arrow, because I’ve already got that covered,” she informed him.
“Really?” He asked in surprise. “I thought you hated Rafe.”
“Rafe? Ew, no, I’m talking about Tom, obviously,” she snapped.
“Your sister and Tom? Nahhh, do you not see how she and Rafe have been looking at each other? It’s so obvious,” he scoffed.
“You know what else is obvious? That Rafe’s still a dick and he doesn’t deserve her,” Carter argued.
“He’s actually grown up a lot,” Topper said, surprising Carter with the serious shift in his tone. “He’s been through some stuff, college hasn’t been easy for him. He could use a win.”
Carter considered this, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the years of bitterness she held for Rafe.
“Well, he had his chance. He had millions of chances with her and he fumbled every one,” she said.
“I know he did, but under it all he’s a good person. And I think good people deserve second chances,” Topper explained.
���Not when they hurt my sister,” she concluded. “I won’t allow it.”
Topper's eyes creased with his smile as he looked down at her, loving her steely look and pursed lips as she put her hands on her hips. 
“You’re still so bossy,” he smiled, sliding closer to her until their chests were nearly touching. “I know we’re supposed to be fighting, but it’s kinda hot.”
He leaned forward to plant a little kiss on her lips, like he’d done a million times before. Carter leaned back, leaving his puckered lips hanging.
“Oh no,” she pushed him back, making him frown. “You don’t get to touch me until you join Team Tom.”
“Nuh-uh! Team Rafe for life baby,” he crossed his arms to match her stance, recovering quickly, more than used to being rejected by her.
She studied him suspiciously, wondering how quickly he’d crack if she actually withheld their inevitable beach trip hook-up. But he didn’t budge, he was as serious about this as she was.
“Fine,” she said. “The game is so on.”
(Chapter 3)
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a/n: so tell me... are we Team Tom or Team Rafe?
please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕
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xosannie · 5 months ago
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Our Dirty Little Secret
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Part 2 to my fic Dirty Little Secret, check out part 1 is you haven’t already. Thank you for reading <3
☆Genre: Smut 18+ MDNI
☆Pairing: sex worker!Mingi x fem!reader
☆Word Count: 6.9k
☆Warnings: Mingi is a bit submissive in this, unprotected sex, recording while having sex, praise, sending nudes, hand job, fwb, mention of porn (lmk if I missed anything)
☆Summary: After finding out about your best friend Mingi’s secret porn account, you grew to accept his decision in his line of work. You actually start to feel very curious about it yourself, and Mingi is more than happy to fulfill your curiosity.
☆a/n: This took so long and I don’t really like it that much but I hope you do lol :,)
—————————————————————————
You throw your head back laughing, holding your stomach after your friend said something to make you laugh. You were sitting in a small cafe, matcha in hand, while you chatted with your friend from work. 
“I’m serious, it fell and spilled all over me,” he says, taking a sip of his latte.
“San, you’re such a clutz. How many times has that happened now?”
“Three,” he says quietly, and you laugh harder. 
”Is Mingi coming or what?” San says, rolling his eyes at you.
"Yes, I’m sure he is.”
You hear a ping come from your phone; oh, that must be Mingi. You pick it up and open the message without a second thought, not realizing it was an image he sent.
Loser (Mingi): Should I post this? :))
(attached image)
You choke on your drink, staring at the photo of Mingi holding his hard dick in his hand. San looked at you confused, and you try to compose yourself, trying not to act like a fool in front of your coworker.
“What?” He asks.
“Um… he’s uh stuck in traffic.”
"Bro, you scared me; you’re acting like you saw something you shouldn’t have.”
You felt your ears heat up. Damn Mingi, he did this on purpose. Ever since that night at his house, he started to send you nude videos and pictures of himself; you loved it at first. But then he started doing it to tease you, sending stuff when you were at work or in times when he knew you couldn’t be alone to touch yourself. He’s a menace, that damn Mingi.
You set your drink down to text Mingi back. 
You: WHAT THE HECK?!? 
Loser (Mingi): what? 
You: YOU KNOW IM WITH SAN RIGHT NOW, YOU CANT JUST RANDOMLY SEND ME YOUR DICK LIKE THAT!!
Loser (Mingi): Aww, you don’t like my dick anymore? :(
You internally palm your forehead. In this moment, you thank whatever god there is that you can pull off a pretty good poker face. You glance at San before looking back at your phone, thumbs dancing against the keyboard as you typed back at Mingi.
You: Shut up, where are you? Me and San are waiting.
Loser (Mingi): I’m coming. I’m coming. No need to get your panties in a twist.
You roll your eyes, setting your phone down to look back at San, who was waiting patiently to have your attention back on him.
“He’s on his way,” you huff.
“Great. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”
San smiles softly, showing off his dimples, and he takes another sip of his latte. You hear another ding from your phone, and you glance down at the screen in your lap.
Loser (Mingi): So you don’t like the photo? </3
You: Of course I like it. Now hurry up and get over here.
Mingi smiles down at the phone after reading your response. He turns off the car, stepping out and walking toward the door of the cafe. He can see you and San through the window; he was there the whole time watching. He just wanted to see your reaction to his teasing, that little prick. 
————————————————————————
You, San, and Mingi all caught up with each other, updating one another about your lives, telling stories, and cracking jokes. It was now getting darker, the sun started to set, and the cafe became emptier. You check the time on your phone before speaking.
"Oh, they’re going to close soon. We should probably head out.” 
San checks the time as well, looking down at his watch and letting out a sigh. He looked up, glancing at you and Mingi, who sat together in front of him. 
“Yeah, I should probably head home now. I have to study for my upcoming exam.” 
You all agree to end the night here, getting up out of your seats and picking up your trash. Mingi takes your empty cup and drapes your jacket over his shoulder. 
“That’s alright, man. Good luck on your exam.”
“Thanks Mingi.”
Mingi and San shake hands, patting each other back. You pull San in for a hug, and Mingi tries to ignore the small pang of jealousy he felt when he noticed San’s arms wrapping around your waist. 
"Bye, Sannie; see you next time.”
“Oh, did you need a ride back home?”
You pull away from the hug, and Mingi steps in, wrapping his arm over your shoulder. 
“It’s okay, I can take her.” 
San glances at the two of you, smiling softly. There was a hint of suspicion in his eyes, but he shrugged it off and waved goodbye.
“Alright, well, I’ll get going. Good night.”
You and Mingi both wish him a good night and watch him walk off. Once San was out of sight, you pulled yourself from Mingi’s hold. You look up at him with an annoyed face, causing Mingi to put his hands up in defense.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I told you to stop sending those things to me when I’m out in public.”
You playfully smack his chest, making Mingi chuckle quietly. You turn on your heels, walking out the cafe and toward Mingi’s car in the parking lot.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He follows behind you, catching up fairly easily due to his long legs. He beats you to the passenger seat, opening the car door for you. You huff, climbing in and sitting back with your arms crossed. Mingi couldn’t help the sly smirk plastered on his face as he walks around the car and climbs in the driver seat.
“Wipe that smug look off your face.”
“Or what?”
Mingi leans closer, glancing at your lips, then back at your eyes. He looked so pretty under the dim lighting. You fight every urge to smash your lips against his, but you didn’t give him that satisfactory. 
Instead, you turned your head, looking out the window. Mingi frowned a bit when you didn’t give him what he wanted. He turned the car on, faint music playing quietly in the background.
“Don’t give me that treatment. You loved the photo; I know you did.”
He drove out of the parking lot, and you watched the darkened trees pass by. You scoffed at his words, not bothering to look back at his face. Obviously you liked the photo; you couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole time you were out. You caught yourself staring at Mingi a little longer than you should have, admiring his pretty lips and hands (and all the things they can do to you). 
Your silence only makes Mingi smirk wider, already knowing what’s on your mind. He glanced at you for a second, then back on the road, one of his hands reached down to grip your thigh.
“Aw, don’t be mad at me, baby. I noticed how you were staring at me back at the cafe.”
Your body tensed, and the feeling of his large hand grabbing the flesh of your thigh made you feel a stir at the pit of your stomach. Of all days, why did you decide today was the day to wear a dress? He gripped your thigh, massaging it in his hand, running his fingers higher up under your dress.
“You look so pretty in this dress. It took every ounce in me not to rip it off and pound you in front of San.”
Images of Mingi’s words flashed in your head, causing your breath to grow more shallow. You subconsciously pressed your thighs together; that didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He let out a low chuckle, squeezing your thigh harder. God, you hated how easily he can rile you up. He knew exactly what he was doing; his ego was seriously too big for his own good. 
You take his hand and guide it back to the steering wheel. Mingi cocked his brow up, feeling a sense of amusement when you play hard to get.
“Two hands on the wheel, Mingi.” You teased.
“Fine, but later tonight I’ll have two hands on you.”
After a few minutes of shooting each other glances and bantering with a bit of flirting, you finally arrive at your place. You reach for your belongings, but Mingi already grabbed them for you, your jacket and purse in his hand as he steps out of the car. You rolled your eyes at him and watched as he ran around the car to open the door for you. 
“I’m perfectly capable of opening the door,” you snickered.
“Hey, let me be the gentleman I am.” 
“You just want pussy.” 
Mingi fights back a little; he wasn’t expecting you to say something so straightforward. He closed the door, feeling heat creep up on his cheeks. Thank God it was dark out so you couldn’t see him blush.
“That’s not...” he says quietly. 
He was brought back to his senses when you walked past him. There was a sly smirk on your face; shy Mingi was always so cute; you just don’t get to see it often. Mingi catches up to you when you stop at the front door, keys jingling as you turn the lock. 
You both step in, placing your belongings down and slipping off your shoes. Almost immediately, you felt Mingi’s hands on your waist, pulling you close to him. You let out a small yelp, smiling up at Mingi, who towered over your figure.
“Hey, let me breathe first. I just got home,” you chuckle.
“Can’t wait.”
He leans down to place kisses on your neck. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness, and you push him away slightly. He shoots you a small pout when you reject him, and you coo internally at his expression, reaching up to pinch his cheek. 
“Down boy,” you joke. 
Mingi reluctantly pulls his arms off you with a huff. He walks over to the couch and plops down on it, sulking like a puppy who just got scolded. You laugh at his behavior, walking to him and cupping his jaw.
“I’m going to go shower, then you can have all my attention.”
His head perks up at your words, and a smirk widens on his face. 
“Can I join?” 
“No Mingi. Just be good and wait okay.”
His body slumps at your words. A strange feeling crashed over him when you told him to be good; he had no choice but to give in. 
“Don’t keep me waiting too long then.” 
“I’ll be quick; don’t worry.”
You ruffle his hair before walking away, swaying your hips more than usual. Mingi watched you intently, admiring your figure. Once you were out of sight, he let out a sigh, falling back on the couch. 
“Damn tease,” he whispered to himself. 
He picked up his phone in an attempt to find some kind of entertainment. He opened the Twitter app and was immediately met with porn videos. He forgot to switch back to his regular account again; he really needed to get out of that habit. He looked through his DM's  and noticed an unopened message from the buyer of the video you helped Mingi film. He smiled at the message after reading it.
“This was hotttt😍 correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like someone helped you film this?? If that’s the case, I think you should film more with them; I’m sure others would love to see it (I know I will).💋”
Film more with them? Mingi likes the sound of that. He’s always fantasized about recording you while you both fucked, maybe even posting it if you allowed it. But he was always too nervous to ask, afraid that might scare you away.
After a few minutes, you finally get out of the shower. When you walked back in the living room now wearing sleep shorts and a black spaghetti strap top, Mingi (unashamedly) checked you out. He couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face when he saw you. 
“I’m back, did you miss me?”
“Yes, very much,” he says without taking his eyes off your hips. 
You walk past Mingi, sitting on the couch next to him while his eyes stayed glued to you the whole time. You kick your feet up on the couch, getting comfortable and trying to ignore Mingi’s hard gaze. You reach forward to grab the remote and turn the TV on. 
“You know you never answered my question from earlier,” Mingi said.
“What question?”
“If I should post the picture or not.”
You think back at the nude. Mingi sent you when you were out with San. You glared at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
“Oh my bad for not answering when you sent me a dick picture in public.” 
Mingi smiled, feeling pleased with himself. He leans back, hands resting behind his head.
“You’re not giving me feedback.”
You roll your eyes at him, fighting back a smile. God, you wanted to shove him down on the couch and sit on his face; that way he wouldn’t be able to give you that smug look. 
"Yes, post it. it’s really hot.” 
You turn back to the TV, scrolling through to pick something to watch. Mingi’s smirk widens; he looks down at you, admiring your pretty thighs. 
“Hot? Did it turn you on?”
He reached down, grazing the soft, supple skin. You allowed Mingi to touch you, still scrolling the TV and failing to find something to watch. You give up, setting the remote down and turning to Mingi. 
“What are you going to do if I say yes?”
He leans in closer, hiding his face in your neck as he takes in your scent. He always loved the smell of your body wash; it drove him crazy. He grazed his teeth against your earlobe, sucking it gently. 
“Whatever you want me to do,” he whispers. 
You giggle softly, pulling his face up to place a soft kiss on his lips. Ever since you and Mingi slept together that one night, you both have been thirsty for each other every second of the day. Don’t get it twisted, you were the same friends you were before… just friends that flirt...and  kiss... and fuck. (That’s normal though, right? Haha…)
You told yourself you wouldn’t think much of it and just go with the flow. You and Mingi both kind of agreed to do that. Neither of you wanted to possibly make each other uncomfortable, so you guys just let things happen without looking into it too deeply.
Mingi hummed in the kiss, moving his hand up to grip your waist. He pulls you closer, the kiss deepening and becoming more passionate. You push him away when you feel Mingi try to pull you on his lap, leaving him wanting more. His eyes flutter open, letting out a small sigh. 
“So how is your porn stuff going?”
You stay close to Mingi, resting your head on your hand while studying his features. Mingi leans back on the couch, though his hands never leave your body. He pushed his hair back, trying to control the rapid beating of his heart before speaking. 
“It’s pretty good. Honestly, I’ve been getting more recognition recently.”
“Oh yeah? That’s great.”
You gently nudge Mingi’s shoulder, proud to hear the good news. 
“I’m not surprised; your videos are so hot, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend.”
Mingi smirked at your words, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and playing with a lock of your hair. 
“Yeah? Which video have you been touching yourself too?”
You shoot him a playful glare, making Mingi laugh to himself.
“Don’t make me take back my compliment.” 
“I’m just messing with you. I hope you know your opinion is very valid to me.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his words. You fiddle with the necklace resting around Mingi’s neck before replying.
“I really like the video of you humping the pillow.”
Mingi bites his lip; the thought of you touching yourself to his videos makes his stomach churn. He honestly fantasizes about it a lot; he always comes the fastest when thinking about it. 
“Really? Well, I’ll make sure to film more of those.” 
You roll your eyes, leaning closer and resting your head on Mingi’s shoulder. He runs his fingers through your hair, pushing the strands behind your ear. 
“Do other people hit you up asking to “collaborate” or whatever? I don’t know what you call it.” 
Mingi chuckles, shaking his head.
“I mean, yeah, there are a few mutuals of mine who DM me. But I don’t like the thought of fucking just anyone. I don’t care if other people do it because it is for work, but I don’t know... I prefer to do it with people I care about. Like you.”
You felt your heart flutter at his words. A strange wave of relief courses through your body at his response. You decide to brush off the feeling, looking up at Mingi and poking his chest.
"Awww, you care about me.” 
“Of course I do you idiot.”
Mingi smiles, resting his cheek on top of your head. You hum, feeling a sense of warmth at his actions and mindlessly drawing shapes on his chest. Mingi suddenly remembered something he wanted to show you, then pulls away a bit as he speaks up.
“Oh, look at this message I got.” 
He pulls out his phone, showing you the message from the buyer. You smile, raising your brows while reading it. 
“Film more with me? What an interesting request.” 
"Yeah, right,” he chuckled nervously.
“I’m glad they liked it. I’ve watched the video myself, and it was so hot. Even though I’m the one in it, it’s hot knowing that you’re holding the camera.” 
He shoved his phone back in his pocket after you handed it to him. You weren’t going to lie; you have previously thought about what it would be like to be in one of Mingi’s videos. Of course you never mentioned it to him; you were just nervous. But the more you scrolled through Mingi’s and other people’s accounts, your curiosity grew stronger. Maybe this was a sign?
Mingi noticed the way you started to get lost in thought. He leaned down, curiously trying to meet your gaze. 
“What are you thinking about?” 
You snapped your attention back at Mingi. You stared into his brown eyes; in this moment, you decided to speak up. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? 
“Just thinking… I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”
Mingi raised his brows, his eyes widening a bit. He shifted in his seat, moving his body to fully face yours.
“Wait really? Like, you want to film with me?” 
Mingi felt his heart racing in his chest, and you smiled at how excited he looked. If he had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy right now. You nod your head, placing your hand on top of Mingi’s.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind. It sounds… fun.” 
Mingi breaks into a huge smile, pulling you in for a hug. You laugh at his reaction; he’s acting as if he won a prize. But to Mingi, that’s exactly what it felt like.
“Okay! When? Where? What do you want to do?”
“Mingi, calm.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. He shut his mouth in a closed lip smile, showing off his cute dimples. You couldn’t help yourself when you reached up to poke his cheek.
“We can do it whenever. Today even, if you don’t mind.”
"Oh, I don’t mind at all.”
You felt a strange wave of relief wash over your body. You didn’t notice how anxious you were feeling till you heard Mingi’s encouragement. He stands up off the couch, reaching his hand out for you to grab. You looked at him with a questioning expression, warily taking his hand in yours.
“What are you doing?”
He pulled you up off the couch, leading you through the house.
“We’re going to your room.”
He smiles wide, prancing through the hall and into your bedroom. You shake your head at him, finding his excitement endearing. He pushed the door open, leading you in and sitting down on the edge of the bed.
He looked up at you, eyes sparking with eagerness. You step in between his legs, running your hand through his hair. You feel Mingi wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.
“Someone is eager,” you tease.
“You can’t blame me; do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about fucking you for content?”
You cock your head to the side, cupping his jaw and holding his face still. The act was weirdly dominant, Mingi likey. You raise a brow to give him a questioning glance. 
“Just for content?” 
Mingi’s breath hitched at your change of tone, his mouth opening and closing like a fish trying to find words. 
“Well, of course, not just for content. What I meant was... you know what I mean,” he whined. 
You giggle, leaning down to kiss his lips.
“I’m just messing with you, Mingi.”
He felt his heart swell at your soft touch. He couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes; you just looked so pretty. He wanted you to keep kissing him; he needed to taste more of your lips. 
“Alright, I think you’ve been waiting long enough. Let’s get started.” You chimed.
Mingi nods eagerly, smirking wide.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He pulls you down, causing you to let out a surprise squeal, then giggle as you settle yourself on his lap. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as he smashes his lips on yours. You both kiss each other hungrily, his hands on your waist as you grip at his hair.
You hear him groan in the kiss when you pull at the strands; god, you loved that sound. You couldn’t help yourself when you did it again, only harder this time. Mingi let out a moan, the sound shooting straight to your core. 
You pulled his shirt, tugging the hem as a silent way of saying you wanted it off. Mingi chuckled at your actions, knowing exactly what you wanted. He pulled away for a second so he could pull his shirt off in one swift motion.
With no time to waste, he was back on you, pressing hot kisses down your neck. You let out a sigh, basking in the feeling of his lips, and guided your hands down his bare chest. He continued to lick and suck at your skin, making you let out small moans. 
“Baby, let’s lay down on the bed,” you breathed out.
Mingi nodded, reluctantly pulling himself off you and giving you one last kiss on the lips. Mingi moved up on the bed, and you followed closely behind. Crawling back on top of his body, smiling prettily down at him. His hands instinctively rest on your waist when you straddle him.
“Can I have your phone?”
“Yeah, yes,” he breathed out. 
Mingi pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. You grabbed it, leaning down to kiss his lips. He entangled his hand in your hair, moaning softly when you trailed kisses down his neck. You looked up at him through your lashes when you moved further down. You pressed warm kisses down his bare chest to his stomach, slowly licking back up. 
“Fuck, I need you so bad,” he moaned breathlessly. 
You chuckled, sitting up and pulling at the buckle of his pants. 
“You’ll have me, baby, don’t worry.” 
Mingi’s hands fumbled to help you unbuckle his pants. He pulls them down for you and throws them on the floor. You turn on his phone, opening the camera app. 
“Mmm, look at you,” you say.
Mingi lay there, breath-grown, labored, and dick hard in his boxers. You can see a slight wet patch on the front. Holy fuck, you were going to devour this man.
Mingi’s dick twitched in his boxer briefs when he saw you point the camera at him. He heard the ding on the phone, your eyes fixated on Mingi’s pretty body through the screen. You reached down, your finger lightly grazing the bulge in his underwear. Mingi’s hips buck up slightly, and shiver runs down his spine.
“Look at you, such a pretty boy.”
Your voice took a tone Mingi never really heard before. It was soft yet dark; he wanted to hear more. He chuckles softly at your words, feeling a wave of desire crash over him at your praise. You run your hand up his body, making sure everything was in frame. 
“I’m pretty?” Mingi asks in a dark, seductive tone. 
You nod, humming in agreement. You slowly trace your finger down his torso, almost as though you were teasing both Mingi and the viewer. You hook your finger on the waistband of his boxers, tugging it at an agonizingly slow pace. 
Mingi huffed at your teasing hands. He knew you were putting on a show for the video, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit impatient. You felt him squirm slightly and chuckled at his behavior.
“Needy aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Mingi says softly, with a hint of a whine. 
The sound shot straight to your core, turning the ache in your pants into a throb. God, you needed to hear Mingi whine; you needed to hear him beg. Finally, you pulled the underwear all the way down; his hard length springs up. You giggle softly, cooing at the sight. 
You don’t know what came over you, but you couldn’t help but want to tease Mingi. Although Mingi didn’t seem to mind much. His dick twitch at your condescending tone, making his face flush in embarrassment. 
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
You grasp his length, letting a wad of spit fall down onto the tip. Slowly, you envelope his dick in your hand, pumping him up and down. Mingi moans softly, watching the way you held the phone close to your face as you recorded yourself jerking him off. The whole scene was so hot, Mingi couldn’t help but feel turned on by the thought of you recording him in such a vulnerable state.
The wet noises of your hand moving up and down on his dick filled the room. You moved your hand faster, watching Mingi’s expression this time. He was already looking at you, and you smiled at him. He whimpered when you locked eyes, his brows furrowing as a small pout threatened to grow on his lips. 
He reached down to grip your thigh, needing to feel you in any way he could. Subconsciously, Mingi started to slowly buck his hand up into your fist. You hum at the sight, biting your lip.
“You’re such a needy boy. You want more?”
“Yes,” Mingi whimpered.
“Yes what?” 
Mingi threw his head back against the pillow, shutting his eyes closed as he felt his face grow hot. He knew what you were asking from him, but he was too shy to say it. You gripped his length tighter, stopping the movement of your hand.
Mingi whimpers loudly at the pain, body jerking and dick twitching with pleasure. 
“Yes, what?” You asked again, this time in a darker tone.
“Yes please. Please, I need more,” he whined, covering his face in embarrassment. 
You smiled wide at him, loosening the grip on his cock and jerking him faster. 
“That’s a good boy.”
Mingi moans at your praise, hips bucking up faster than before and dick twitching excitedly. You watched, feeling slightly surprised by his reaction.
“Oh? Does the big boy like to get praised?”
“Yesss,” Mingi whines. 
He gripped your thigh harder, continuing to fuck up into your hand. It was all so embarrassing yet so hot to him. Having you toy with him while you recorded. He felt like he was under your control, and fuck he loved it more than he ever thought he would. 
“Thats right, baby, fuck my hand.”
You completely still the movement of your fist, encouraging Mingi to continue to thrust into your hand. He does just that, bouncing up and down on the bed as he fucked your fist. He continued to let out whimpers and whines, feeling both ashamed and aroused by how pathetic he looked. 
You hummed in delight, making sure you got the best angle of Mingi fucking himself. You moaned softly when you saw a drip of pre-cum ooze out the tip. You pulled your hand off, making Mingi whine desperately, his hips still fucking the air looking for friction. 
You giggle softly, watching the way his dick bounced pathetically. Your fingers find their way on his slit, pulling away and watching a string of pre-cum connect to your finger and his tip.
“So wet, baby.”
You move the camera closer to his length, showing off the pretty cum dripping down his cock.
“It’s all for you,” he says quietly. 
That was your breaking point. You needed Mingi; you couldn’t wait any longer. Your pussy throbbed so much, and you felt your slick stick to the fabric of your shorts. You stopped the recording, setting the phone on the mattress and leaning down to kiss Mingi. He pushed away slightly, looking at you confused.
“Why’d you stop recording?” He breathed out.
“I can’t take it. I need to fuck you, Mingi.”
Mingi whimpered, pulling you down by the nape of your neck to smash your lips together. Your tongues danced against each other, yours exploring his mouth as he lay limp and let you use him however you like.
“Oh god, yes, please do,” he whined. 
You chuckled, pulling away to rip your shirt off. Your beautiful breast was on display for Mingi; he was mesmerized by the sight. He reached up and squeezed them; you smiled at the way his large palms enveloped your breast. 
“You’re so sexy.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his words. Mingi smiled up at you, finding your giggling cute. His hands roam down your body, sliding over your waist to your hips. You felt his large hands grip your ass through your shorts, making you bite your lip in anticipation.
“Take them off for me, Mingi.” 
Mingi smirks wide, wordlessly pulling your shorts off and down your legs. He moans softly at the sight of you; you had no underwear on, which left you completely naked sitting on top of Mingi.
"God, I need to be inside you, baby. I can’t wait any longer.”
You completely sit down on him, your warm, wet pussy pressed against the underside of his cock. Mingi furrows his brows and grips your hips tightly. You began to rock your hips back and forth, your wetness leaving a glistening trail on Mingi, and he moans softly.
"Why are you teasing me?” he whine. 
You giggle, enjoying the feeling of your swollen clit rubbing against the head of his cock. You couldn’t help but smile at him mischievously; your hands rested on his pecks, and you grabbed the flesh beneath your palms. 
“You just look so cute... whining for me,” you say breathlessly. 
Mingi pushes his head back against the pillow; he was so turned on he needed to feel you already. You glance at Mingi’s phone laying on the bed beside him. He followed your gaze and smirked; he knew exactly what you wanted. He picked it up, opened the camera app, and pressed record. 
You lifted your hips a bit, taking his hard length and aligning it with your sopping hole. Mingi watched through the phone, moaning loudly when you sunk down on his cock. Your hands rested on his stomach, clawing at the skin beneath. 
“Fuckkk,” he moans. 
You moan breathlessly, moving your hips up and down slowly. You already felt your legs start to tremble at the feeling of Mingi filling you up. 
“You fill me up perfectly, baby. Show them how pretty your dick looks sliding inside me.”
Mingi groans at your words, moving the camera closer to you pussy sucking up Mingi’s dick effortlessly. You kept a slow, steady pace; you were so wet you could hear the squelching noises coming from your pussy. Mingi bites his lip, pulling the camera away to show off your pretty body while grabbing your hip with his free hand. 
“Baby,” you said breathlessly.
“Yeah?”
“Fuck me.”
Mingi moans at your words, you didn’t have to tell him twice. He planted his feet flat on the bed and thrust up into you at a fast pace. You let out a yelp as intense pleasure coursed through your entire body. Skin slapping against skin as Mingi bucked up into your pussy, he was mesmerized by the way your thighs jiggled when coming contact to his pelvis. 
He held the phone in his hand tighter, groaning loudly as he fucked into you. You couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your lips; you were in pure ecstasy. And based on the way Mingi’s eyes were glued to your face, brows furrowing, and mouth agape, you could tell he felt the same way. 
“Fuck…so good. Your pussy is so good.”
You moan at his praise, looking down at the phone that was pointed toward you. You felt so vulnerable, and the thought that other people will be watching this video, jacking off to Mingi fucking you, drove you crazy. 
Mingi’s hips stopped when the burn in his abdomen became too much to bear and he panted heavily trying to catch his breath. You decided to give Mingi some time to rest and reached behind you. You planted your hands on Mingi’s thighs and lifted your knees up till your feet rested on the mattress.
“You did so good. I’m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby.”
Mingi whined when he watched you change positions and nodded eagerly. 
“Okay.” 
With the new position you put yourself in, your pussy was on full display for Mingi and the camera. You rocked your hips up and down, your tits bouncing with your movements. Mingi moans louder, watching intently at the way his dick disappeared in your hole. He was trying so hard not to drop the phone in his hand, wanting to capture this moment forever. 
With the new view, Mingi found himself getting closer to his release. Watching you bounce on his cock was just too intoxicating.
“I’m close, baby.”
“Just a little longer, okay? I’m almost there.”
Mingi’s hand gripped tightly to your thigh, sliding up till his thumb pressed against your clit. You whined at the feeling, legs trembling when he rubbed circles on the sensitive nub.
“Yes yes. Keep doing that, baby. Fuck, I’m close.”
“Cum on my cock, please. I need it.”
Your nails dug into Mingi’s thighs, legs almost giving out when you came on his dick. You clenched so hard around him as your hips stuttered. Mingi’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as he tried with all his might not to cum inside. Now that's a good boy.
You pulled off him, his dick slipping out and hot streams of cum shot out to cover his stomach. You watched with a sly smirk, reaching down to jerk him off. 
“Fuck!”
Mingi’s body trembled from his intense orgasm, some even landing on his chest and neck. You giggle, and when you notice him coming down from his high, you slow the pace of your hand, not wanting to overstimulate him. You grab the phone from him (surprised he didn’t drop it at this point) and point the camera closer to his cum-covered body.
"Mmm, you see that. What a messy boy.” 
You both pant heavily. Mingi chuckled breathlessly at your words, looking down at his body. You stopped the recording, setting the phone down on the bed. You both smiled at each other, Mingi reaching up to cup your face. 
“Can’t wait to watch that later,” you smirk. 
Mingi rolls his eyes, laughing breathlessly. He pulled you closer and pressed a soft kiss on your nose. You rested your elbows on either side of his head while staring into his pretty brown eyes.
“That was so fucking hot. I didn’t know I was the submissive type, but damn, we need to explore that more.” 
You laugh heartily, kissing Mingi’s cheek before speaking. 
"Yes, we do. I swear I almost started running laps whenever you begged for me.” 
“I folded when you called me a good boy.” 
You and Mingi couldn’t help the funny comments. Maybe it was weird that you were cracking jokes after getting dicked down by your best friend, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You pull away, sighing and looking down at the cum that smeared on your body. 
“Now I have to take another shower.”
Mingi laughs at your words, running his hands up and down your sides. He looks up at you with pleading eyes before asking in a hopeful tone.
“Can I join you this time?” 
You decide to throw him a bone, smiling down at him and nodding.
“Yes Mingi. Come on.”
Mingi exclaimed in excitement, picking you up effortlessly and taking you to the bathroom. You squeal when he throws you over his shoulder, and you smack the small of his back.
“Hey, warning next time you decide to manhandle me.”
“No time, must take you to the shower.”
“How do you still have this much energy after what we did?”
————————————————————————
“Ugh, dammit.” 
You lean back in your chair when you see the red letter pop up on your computer screen. 
‘You died’
“Why is this level so hard?” 
Your mumble to yourself. You hear your phone notification go off and light up next to your keyboard. You pick it up and smile to see a message from Mingi. 
Princess Mingi: HELLO!? LOOK AT HOW MANY LIKES OUR VIDEO HAS 
(attached image)
Your eyes bulge out of your head after seeing the screenshot Mingi sent you. 
You: 72k?!? WHAT??
Princess Mingi: This is literally my most liked video. People love you, they think you're hot and want to know if you have an account. 
You couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at the thought of people wanting to see more of you. Maybe you should dabble into this kind of work. You were pulled out of your thoughts when another ping rang from your phone. 
Princess Mingi: You should say fuck it and join the sex work community. I think you will do very well.
Princess Mingi: I’ll be your first subscriber ;)
You: I’ll block you before you can find my account 
Princess Mingi: Hey :( you wouldn’t do that to your good boy, would you? :(((
You: Yes.
You giggle to yourself after teasing Mingi. It was just so fun. He sent another message, and your giggles immediately die down when you see the image.
Princess Mingi: (attached image)
What about now? :)
You: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SENDING ME YOUR DICK
Princess Mingi: YOU SAID NOT TO DO IT WHEN YOURE IN PUBLIC. I KNOW YOURE NOT 
You: WELL NOW IM HORNY AND ALL ALONE
Mingi doesn’t reply back and you see the little ‘read’ text under your message. You furrow your brow in confusion, that bitch, leaving you on read. You set you phone down and turn your attention back to your game on the screen.
After a few minutes, Mingi never replied back. Thats weird. You decide to text him again, he never leaves you on read. 
You: Hey, are you alive?
You were surprised when you saw the three dots appear pretty quickly. 
Princess Mingi: I’m here. Open your door :)
You stare blankly at the phone screen, sitting there dumbfounded. You’re brought back to reality when you hear a honk outside your house. You peak through your window and see Mingi walking out the car and up to your front door. That little shit. 
You: No, stay outside and freeze. 
Princess Mingi: Please let me in :(
You: Why should I? 
Princess Mingi: So I can fuck you good again :) 
You dropped your phone and ran to the front door. Well, it was too cold for him to stay out there all alone. 
————————————————————————
You bite your lip while holding your phone in your hand. 
"Ugh, fuck it.” 
You posted your first nude photo; it was a simple mirror picture of you were in your underwear sitting on your bed topless. You throw your phone on the mattress, feeling nervous yet excited at the same time. You finally did it, you made your own Twitter account. 
After looking at the video you and Mingi recorded for his account, you decided to give in and give the people what they wanted. After a few minutes of pacing around, you pick up your phone to check if anyone has liked your photo yet. You already started getting some likes and a few comments.
You get a notification and press on it immediately. 
‘Sir Min started following you’
You smile to yourself when you read the notification. Of course, Mingi was the first to follow you. You had already told him you were doing it, but you didn’t take into account that he was waiting for you to make your first post this whole time. You get a DM from Mingi, smirking to yourself when reading it.
Sir Min: You look hot, baby. Can’t wait to fuck you more “for content” ;)
~
Tags: @chicksmoothie @wisejudgedragonhairdo @autieofthevalley @breadpuddingboys @pancake-freckle @nanicjj @yunhofingers @cherr-heekisses
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forzalando · 1 year ago
Text
Orange Theory
Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!
You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.
Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.
“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.
“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”
“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.
“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”
You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.
“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
“I just came to give you this.”
Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.
“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.
“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”
“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”
“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.
“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.
Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.
“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.
“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.
Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.
He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”
You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.
“He peels your oranges for you?”
You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”
“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”
“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”
Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.
“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”
“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”
As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.
“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.
As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”
“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”
“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”
“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”
A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.
“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”
“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”
“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”
You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”
Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”
“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.
“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”
“What else?”
“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”
Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.
“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.
“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”
Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”
“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”
“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”
“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”
Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.
Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.
Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.
You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.
When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.
You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.
But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.
They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.
You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.
“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”
The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.
“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”
“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”
“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.
“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”
You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.
“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”
“Would you kiss me?”
“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”
This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.
“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”
“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.
“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.
You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.
He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.
He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.
His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.
You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.
After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.
Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
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