#this just came into my head this morning and I was like

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 12

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 6k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 15 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

When Sukuna and you enter the university holding hands, you know the news will spread fast. You can't help but wonder what kind of gossip people will share about the two of you. After all, Sukuna isn't just anybody but the star player of the most successful ice hockey team this college has had in many decades. And on top of that, he is infamous for being the guy who doesn't date.

Well, things have changed.

You smile softly as you lean into Sukuna's side, resting your head against his buff biceps and feeling his large hand give yours a reassuring squeeze. He is acting his usual self, strutting down this hallway as if he owns it, head held high, arrogant smirk perfectly in place, fixing the people around you with a condescending stare.

But he doesn't even try to keep your new relationship low-key or hide it from the public eye. It makes your stomach flutter as you stroll down the hallway and Sukuna never lets go of your hand. You reach your classroom and Sukuna grins his most charming grin before he leans down to kiss you on the lips, right there in the middle of the hallway for everyone to see.

It's a lingering, slow kiss, leaving no doubt about what it means. Sukuna's large tattooed hand cups your cheek, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss, flicking his tongue teasingly against yours before he slowly pulls away with that typical sexy smirk on his handsome face,

"Have fun in class, princess. And don't forget your lunch date with your boyfriend."

He grins at you, the tip of his tongue playing with one of his sharp canines as he watches you with an amused but also intense look.

Boyfriend.

Hearing Sukuna say that word makes your tummy fill with butterflies. A breathless chuckle escapes your lips,

"As if I would ever forget my boyfriend. But just to make sure, why don't you pick your girlfriend up from class?"

You grin up at Sukuna with a racing heart, delighted to see his Adam's apple bob and his long lashes flutter for a moment. You don't seem to be the only one who gets flustered by the use of that new name.

Sukuna's large hand lands on your head, ruffling your hair, before he finally pulls away with a wink and tells you to hurry up so your professor won't have a reason to berate you today.

You have your little lunch date a few hours later, sitting at your usual table, Sukuna's table, eating and chatting about Sukuna's upcoming game and your creative writing class.

Things feel like they always do. There is no big change in the way you act around each other. The two of you follow the same routine you already developed gradually during the last few months since Sukuna came into your life.

It makes you realize just how natural it has already become to be by Sukuna's side almost all the time. Even before you got together, you already met on campus every morning, chatting and joking around while Sukuna walked you to your classes, carrying your heavy books and ruffling your hair. You already went to lunch together all the time, and later on, met in the library to study and eat the snacks Sukuna prepared, your hands brushing over each other when you reached into the snack box at the same time.

Everything is still the same, but, at the same time, it isn't. Because now, Sukuna holds your hand as you walk down the hallway. Now he kisses you openly, not just behind closed doors or when he's drunk, but in the middle of the crowded hallway. And at lunch, he holds your hand on top of the table, his long tattooed fingers absentmindedly playing with yours while he complains about one of his teammates.

And you rest your chin on your other hand, watching your boyfriend with a dreamy smile, thinking to yourself that somehow it feels as if it was always meant to happen this way.

Nobara is very smug about your relationship update. She found out about it the day after your date in the hockey arena because she walked in on Sukuna and you sharing a deep kiss in the living room. She made a disgusted noise and banged her door shut again, but when Sukuna left an hour later to go to the gym, Nobara cornered you immediately, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed in front of her chest, a triumphant grin on her face,

"So, you and Kirby, huh? I knew it!"

You shrugged helplessly, unable to stop the big smile from spreading over your face when you admitted,

"Well, I guess you saw it coming sooner than I did."

Right now, she's lounging lazily on the couch, waving around her fingers to let her nail polish dry while watching you with a knowing look as you check reflection a few times too often in the mirror next to the front door.

"Are you seeing loverboy? Not that I am complaining, by the way. I prefer it when you visit him, so I don't have to see his stupid face."

You huff loudly, turning around to give her a stern look,

"Nobara! Sukuna can actually be really nice! If you would get to know him better, then.."

But Nobara interrupts you, laughing and rolling her eyes,

"I'm just teasing you. I don't mind. Just make sure he doesn't drink all the milk when he's staying here."

With that, she turns around again, lifting her freshly manicured hands in front of her face, inspecting her work, and you stand there with a grin spreading over your face. Maybe Sukuna is growing on your dormmate after all.

"There's a hockey party at our dorm tomorrow."

Sukuna is lying on his bed with one buff arm behind his neck, cat-like maroon eyes watching you lazily, and a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face. He looks so good that it should be illegal. Only wearing his stupid low-sitting grey sweats, so his buff pecs and taut abs are on full display. You don't even know where to look. There is just so much of him, big and broad and so gorgeous with all those muscles and the smooth tattooed skin everywhere.

You have to forcibly shake yourself out of staring at Sukuna with heart-eyes, but when you manage it, you raise an eyebrow teasingly,

"So what are you trying to tell me with that info, Kuna? That we can't see each other tomorrow?"

Sukuna rolls his pretty eyes, his lips lifting in an equally teasing and amused grin,

"Don't play clueless, sweetheart. You know damn well why I'm telling you that."

You grin at Sukuna, leaning closer to him, playfully blinking at him and batting your lashes,

"Hmmm, maybe you have to spell it out for me, baby."

A low, raspy laugh falls from Sukuna's mouth, and he reaches out with his free hand, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb slowly over your lower lip. His intense maroon gaze never leaves you when he whispers in that sexy low drawl,

"I want you to accompany me to that party. Or, to make things even clearer for you, I want you to be my date. Now, what do you say, princess?"

You feel a bit light-headed from the fluttery feeling in your stomach that Sukuna's words cause. Asking you out on your first official date. You can't stop grinning as you nod, pressing a little kiss to Sukuna's thumb that's still resting on your lower lip,

"I say yes."

Your grin turns into a surprised squeal when Sukuna's arms wrap around you and pull you on top of him.

You enter the party on Sukuna's arm and instantly feel intimidated. The apartment is much bigger than Sukuna's and Yuuji's, and the whole place is bustling with people.

You tried to reassure yourself beforehand that this is just a regular college party. But now that you are here, you can't deny anymore, what you already knew deep down. This isn't just a normal college party. It's the kind of party you have never been invited to before.

The large apartment is filled with only the most popular people the campus has to offer. Admired athletes, popular jocks, and just as popular cheerleaders, beautiful sorority girls, and rich daughters and sons of all kinds of important people.

It's a crowd you aren't used to. A crowd that is very good at excluding people like you, who aren't considered anything special in their eyes. Just a boring creative writing student whose name no one has heard before.

Technically, you know that not all of the popular people are like that. Most of Sukuna's teammates are really ok, and the girls in your classes who are also athletes are nice, too. Even Gojo Satoru was easy to get along with when you interviewed him.

But tonight, the large apartment is bustling with people you have never talked to before, and their heads instantly snap to you as Sukuna and you enter the party. Their stares make your stomach clench nervously. You can imagine how Sukuna and you must look to them: The star player of the hockey team, the King of the Ice, and next to him the nameless girl, who is clinging nervously to his large hand while her heart beats up to her throat.

You feel Sukuna's thumb caresses your wrist lightly. A sweet, reassuring gesture that makes you let out the breath you had unconsciously been holding. Sukuna leans down to murmur in your ear,

"Don't be nervous, princess. Just focus on me. Those insects don't even deserve your attention."

You laugh at his words, grateful for how he makes you feel more at ease. Sukuna flashes you one of his most charming smiles and gently tugs you along into the kitchen, where the whole hockey team is gathered, all cheering and whistling loudly when their star player enters. Sukuna returns all the high fives and takes a shot glass from the huge tray that Todo is passing around.

Just when you want to take a step back so the players can drink together, Sukuna's strong arm stops you, keeping you right there by his side. Todo and Yuuji join you, offering you a vodka shot because "You are Sukuna's lucky charm, so you count as an honorary team member!"

You burst out laughing, smiling gratefully at them as you lift your glass to join in on the player's toast. The small room keeps getting fuller as more people come looking for the hockey players, and Sukuna grins at you and lifts you up, setting you on the kitchen counter so he can stand between your legs. His tattooed face comes closer to yours, maroon eyes gazing deeply into yours, and your pulse races. Your hand cups Sukuna's cheek right when his lips brush over yours.

Sukuna's kiss makes your head spin with the way he licks into your mouth and how his large hands wrap around your waist while he pushes his body between your legs.

The rest of the party is far from your mind when you have Sukuna's tongue in your mouth, but unfortunately, you can't make out the whole evening. Sukuna's teammates demand his presence, and you need to go to the bathroom. So you excuse yourself, smiling when Sukuna ruffles your hair before you walk out of the kitchen.

This time, you feel more at ease when you enter the living room, an effect of the alcohol and Sukuna's kisses. But only after a few steps, you feel the atmosphere shift again. The scrutinizing gazes are back.

Spending time with Sukuna on campus already put you in the spotlight, but that felt different somehow. Maybe because a few days ago, you were just the mysterious girl who sometimes walked next to him or the lucky charm he brought to his games. Maybe you seemed like no competition. Like no one important. Just another little fling. Just another replaceable puck bunny. But now you are the girl who took the star player of the ice hockey team off the market, and everyone seems to ask themselves how you managed to do that. It feels as if you get put under a microscope, inspected curiously, and every flaw is analyzed and frowned upon.

You try to ignore the murmurs and stares, even while internally, a storm is brewing in you. Self-doubts mix with anger and dig their claws into your heart. You are relieved when you reach the bathroom and can lock yourself in it, escaping from the gazes and murmurs for at least a few minutes.

You take your time washing your hands, letting the ice-cold water run over your wrists as you look at your face in the mirror.

Come on, don't be stupid. It's just a party. Let them talk. They are just curious because Sukuna has never brought a date before. Just get back to the kitchen and enjoy the rest of the evening!

You steel yourself, straightening up before you open the door and exit the bathroom again.

"Does she really believe she has what it takes to be the girl at Sukuna's side?"

"Right? Sukuna is way out of her league. Who is she even?"

You draw in a sharp breath as your eyes meet the ones of the two girls talking shit about you. They don't even look guilty for getting caught but just stare at you with a scornful expression.

You want to get away from here! Your first instinct is to flee into Sukuna's strong arms, but a wall of football players who are raising their beer bottles and toasting each other is blocking your way. Your gaze lands on the door leading to the balcony. Before you even think about it, your feet carry you towards it.

You step onto the large balcony, deeply inhaling the crisp night air as if you are drowning. You grip the railing tightly, looking at the dark sky above you, internally screaming at yourself to stop being so stupid! Why do you let that random gossip affect you?

You know they were just talking shit. You know Sukuna better than they do! You know what the two of you have is real. But hearing those words still bugs you. They feed the demon inside you that whispers to you that maybe you are really not good enough to be the woman by Sukuna's side. Tears prick at your eyes, but you clench them shut, refusing to cry.

But before you can spiral further, a familiar low, velvety voice speaks up behind you,

"What are you doing out here, princess?"

The tight grip of your hands around the balcony railing loosens when you feel Sukuna's muscular arms wrap around you. You instantly relax into his embrace, leaning against his tall, firm body, chiding yourself silently for letting those judgemental gazes and mean comments get to you and fill your mind with doubts.

"I just needed some fresh air."

You feel Sukuna's warm breath on your neck when he laughs his sexy, low laugh. His lips brush over your neck, and then they open, and his hot tongue glides teasingly over your sensitive skin, making your pulse race and butterflies dance in your belly. You are about to get lost in Sukuna's closeness, in his touch, in the warmth of his buff body, and the feeling of his lips on you, but he is too perceptive, analyzing you too closely.

"Tell me what's wrong, princess."

His arms tighten around you, and he nuzzles his warm lips against your neck,

"You suddenly bolted from the room. Right when I was about to come over to you. Are you feeling sick or something? Do you need me to bring you home? I'll do it, you know that, right? Fuck that boring party. Let's go and get you into bed and watch some trash TV we can make fun of."

Your heart clenches. He is so sweet to you. So caring. It's something you never thought a guy like Sukuna could be. It makes you feel even more guilty for being so affected by some rude comment a stranger said. And so you blurt out the truth,

"I just...I heard some people say something that upset me."

You can feel Sukuna tense up behind you. His voice sounds strained when he asks,

"What did they say?"

"That you're out of my league."

Sukuna huffs. He puts his hands on your hips, turning you around. A large hand cups your cheek, tilting your head so you look up at your boyfriend's tattooed face. The usual playfulness is gone from Sukuna's features, replaced by a serious look.

"They are wrong, princess. I am not out of your league. If anything, it's the other way around."

You are about to say something to him, contradicting him, asking him how he could ever think you are out of his league, but Sukuna puts a long tattooed finger on your lips and shakes his head,

"Listen, princess. I don't give a fuck about anyone's popularity. I play hockey to win, not because I want to be some college celebrity. I despise the people who just want to be with me because they think they can gain some advantage from it. Fuck them! I invited you because when you're with me, everything is better. I want you here. You are my girl. I like having you by my side, and I am proud of showing you off. You make this stupid party 100% better for me, and if anyone gave you the feeling you don't belong here, I have something to say to them."

Your heart feels so full that you can't help but smile from ear to ear. Sukuna's lips lift in his lopsided, handsome smirk when he intertwines his long fingers with your smaller ones and watches you while he jerks his tattooed chin towards the door,

"Come on, let's go back. I have to show my face for a while longer to support my team. And you have a job to do, too, Miss. You're my lucky charm, after all. It's literally in your job description to be by my side. I might get into an accident otherwise, break a leg or some shit like that and not be able to play for weeks. We can't let that happen. Surely you understand. Now give me a kiss."

You laugh at the playful words, reaching out to put your hands on Sukuna's defined pecs, bracing yourself on his chest as you get on your tiptoes to give him a sweet little kiss on the lips before you let him lead you back into the living room.

When you were making your way through the living room on your own, you struggled to find a path through the crowd, but now you are on Sukuna's arm, and Sukuna doesn't have that problem. Anyone who sees him steps aside, making room for him. And the ones who don't see him coming get shoved to the side by Sukuna's tall, muscular body.

There's a group of guys to your left who look your way. One of them turns his head to say something to his friend. You don't catch it, but you feel Sukuna tense up beside you.

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he lets it drop, and before you can ask what's going on, Sukuna is already on the guy who grinned at you, his hands twisted in the guy's shirt, slamming him brutally into the wall behind him as if they are on the ice, and Sukuna is slamming an opponent into the boards.

A loud murmur goes through the crowd. People jump to the side, and others come closer. You see Yuuji's pink hair and hear Todo's booming voice. But all of that seems far away from you. Your focus is only zoomed in on your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend, who is glaring at the guy who apparently must have said something about you. The guy is looking at Sukuna with wide eyes, trying to splutter some excuse for whatever he said, but Sukuna shakes his head, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading over his tattooed face as he pushes the guy into the wall once more.

Contrary to Sukuna's physical force, his voice is calm, though. Deadly calm. Cooing at the guy tauntingly as a cruel smirk spreads over Sukuna's face,

"You're really fucking insane, aren't you? Daring to insult my girlfriend. Acting so tough when, in reality, you are such a pathetic little guy. Apologize to her."

Adrenaline is sizzling in your veins. Seeing Sukuna like that is making you feel light-headed. A mix of worry and strange pride and arousal flows through you. You know Sukuna has that bad boy reputation, but this is the first time you see him attack someone off the ice. It's actually fucking hot. Especially when he's doing it for you.

The guy stammers an apology, squirming in Sukuna's tight grip and trying to shake him off, but he doesn't stand a chance against the force that is Itadori Sukuna. His friends don't come to his rescue either. All of them are cowering a few feet away, apparently not wanting to get on Sukuna's bad side.

Sukuna slams him against the wall once more, his tone cold and dangerous,

"Let me spell it out for you and everyone else. She's my girlfriend. She belongs to these parties. She belongs everywhere where I belong, too. Do you understand that?"

Sukuna cocks his head, smirking that dangerous smirk, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement.

The guy nods hurriedly, eyes wide with fear,

"Yes! Yes, of course!"

And Sukuna laughs, his voice dropping to a low, velvety whisper,

"Now get the fuck out of my sight. I give you ten seconds. And if I ever get wind of you talking shit about my girl again, I will fuck up your whole life."

He lifts his head to let his narrowed maroon eyes scan the room slowly,

"And that goes for every single one of you."

You could hear a pin drop in the large room. The whole room is either staring at Sukuna or looking anywhere but at him, too intimidated to look at the enraged King of the Ice.

Sukuna yanks the guy off the wall and pushes him into the middle of the room, sending him stumbling into his friends, who catch him while Sukuna watches with a raised eyebrow,

"What are you still doing here, scum? I told you to run. Do I really have to start counting as if we are in kindergarten? Ten. Nine..."

It doesn't take more. The guy scrambles to his feet and practically bolts from the party, followed by his friends, accompanied by the loud booing and laughter coming from the hockey team.

Sukuna is by your side again, the cruel smirk replaced by the boyish grin you have grown so fond of. He wraps a strong arm around your shoulder and pulls you to him. His touch is so gentle, so completely different from the way he just treated the guy who talked shit about you.

"Sorry that you had to see this. But I had to be an asshole real quick. I won't let anyone disrespect you."

"It's ok. You are a very sexy asshole."

You tilt your head to grin up at Sukuna, and he meets your gaze with an amused sparkle in his maroon eyes. His arms tighten around you, and he leans down to claim your lips in a heated kiss. Making out with you in the middle of the crowded living room, letting everyone see that you are his girl.

Your eyes close, and you sigh, kissing Sukuna back eagerly, drowning in his closeness, adrenaline flowing through your veins after seeing him be so protective over you and seeing him display his affection for you in front of everyone.

Sukuna doesn't leave your side for the rest of the evening. You have some more vodka shots, get some snacks from the kitchen, and join Yuuji and Todo on the couch to chat with them about hockey and your classes and laugh about the time you were their getaway driver after they destroyed their rival teams' ice sculpture.

Sukuna pulled you onto his lap at some point, and you stayed right there, basking in the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you, his warm lips occasionally trailing little kisses over your neck, and the firm muscles of his chest and abs rippling against your back anytime he laughs.

The fluttery feeling in your tummy doesn't go away the whole evening, and it even intensifies when Sukuna gives his brother and Todo high fives and tells them he and you are leaving.

Sukuna steers you out of the apartment with a strong hand on the small of your back while he walks behind you, close enough for you to feel his tall, broad body.

You walk down the staircase next to each other with one of Sukuna's arms thrown over your shoulder. Sukuna's and Yuuji's apartment is just two floors down the staircase, but before you even reach it, Sukuna has already pulled a battered cigarette pack out of his jeans pocket and lights a cigarette while his arm is still around you, making you stumble against him. He takes a deep drag and groans in satisfaction as the nicotine fills his lungs.

"Fuck, I needed that after that stupid party."

You laugh and shake your head, wordlessly pointing at the big no-smoking sign plastered to the wall right next to Sukuna. He smirks at you, raising an eyebrow as he slowly blows out the smoke,

"Who is gonna stop me? At least I'm not smoking in our apartment, so my dear brother won't throw things at me."

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation and wrap a hand around Sukuna's biceps, pulling on his arm,

"Come on, big boy, let's go outside for a while so you can smoke without getting in trouble, and I can get some fresh air. I need it too after that party."

"You're so cute, princess."

Sukuna smirks teasingly at you, but he obeys and lets you pull him down the stairs and out of the dorm.

The two of you stand on the pavement before the building, hugging closely while Sukuna smokes slowly, blowing the smoke in your face with a teasing smirk and watching you with his cat-like gaze. You sigh and roll your eyes but only snuggle closer against him, your arms wrapped around him, nails running up and down his broad back, gently scratching him as you let Sukuna's secondhand smoke and his warm embrace and the smell of his cologne calm your nerves.

It's suddenly easy again. Peaceful. Joking around with Sukuna, rolling your eyes playfully at him, and laughing with him. The party seems miles away. All that exists is Sukuna and you.

The circles he moves in are still foreign to you, but it doesn't matter, you realize. When it comes down to it, all that matters is just you and him and this thing between you. This strong connection that feels so natural and magnetic.

Of course, you say yes when Sukuna flicks his cigarette to the ground and asks if you will spend the night at his apartment. He takes your hand, intertwines his long fingers with yours, and gently tugs you along, leading you back up the staircase to his apartment, making your tummy flutter with the way his thumb is caressing your wrist.

Sukuna unlocks the door, and his lips are on yours the moment you enter the apartment. His muscular arms swoop you up, carrying you to his room, his large, calloused hands undressing you while his tongue licks slowly into your mouth. And you moan his name, slipping your hands under his shirt, pulling it up, caressing Sukuna's warm tattooed skin, running your fingers over his defined muscles, smiling when he growls into your mouth.

The two of you tumble onto the bed, never breaking the kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as you yank at your clothes. Sukuna is naked before you and gets to work on pulling your jeans and your panties off, his hands running down your legs, followed by his soft lips, making your hips buck needily, your fingers tangling in his soft pink hair, tugging on it, pulling him to you, needing more of him. Needing him closer. Needing all of him.

His low chuckle sends a pleasure-filled shiver down your spine as he pushes you down on the mattress. Sukuna's tall, broad figure covers you fully, his weight traps you under him in the most delicious way. His lips find yours again in another slow, deep, wet kiss. You feel his hard cock rub against your belly, hot and velvety, making you wrap your legs around Sukuna's hips in your need to get him inside you, moaning into his mouth, your hands in his hair, your body arching needily up against his buff body.

You are so wet for him just from kissing him, making Sukuna groan breathlessly when his cock slips between your legs and glides through your slick pussy lips. He pulls away for a second, but only to push into you when he snaps his hips against you, making both of you gasp when his thick cockhead splits you open.

And then it's needy, slow fucking. Sukuna keeps kissing you, deep, loving tongue kisses, his strong arms resting on both sides of your face, his muscular body moving on top of you, fucking you with slow, deep thrusts.

It's nasty but sweet at the same time. Slow sex, more lovemaking than fucking. And you melt, giving yourself fully to Sukuna, mewling into his mouth, squeezing your legs around him, digging your nails into the buff muscles of his broad back, kissing him back hungrily, gasping with every deep, slow thrust that kisses your sweet spot.

The lights in Sukuna's room are off. The only light comes from the streetlamps that shine their glow through the window. Your mind is hazy, partly from the vodka shots you had and the smoke you inhaled, but also from the giddiness at being so close to Sukuna, the exhilaration of knowing how committed he is to you, how he let everyone know that you are his girlfriend.

He fucks you so good that you cry, tears slowly running down your cheeks, while Sukuna rolls his hips against yours slowly. Letting you feel every inch of his long, thick cock. A slow, steady rhythm that makes you clench around him, sobbing into his hot mouth anytime you feel his cock pushing slowly into you until his heavy balls are resting against your ass, letting you know that he is as close to you as possible.

It feels so intimate. Making love in Sukuna's dimly lit room while the faint noises of the party two floors above you drift to your ears. But here it's only Sukuna and you. And Sukuna doesn't wear his mask of arrogant aloofness. His gaze is open, full of burning love and desire. His lips open in breathless groans, followed by whispered sweet nothings.

It's deep and intense. As if Sukuna is showing you his love for you with every slow move of his tall, broad body on top of you. With every caress of his hard cock. With every heated kiss that brushes your naked skin. With every whispered word breathed against your lips.

You cling to Sukuna needily, caressing his broad back and his firm, full ass, moaning his name in between tender but nasty open-mouthed tongue kisses, and Sukuna groans those sexy low groans that give you butterflies, not just in your tummy but also in your pussy.

"Fuck, princess. I love you. I fucking love you."

Sukuna moans breathlessly against your lips, and you clench around his cock at his soft words, caressing his back, whispering against his lips,

"I love you, too, baby. Love you so much."

You feel Sukuna's hips stutter, feel his muscles tense under your fingers. He moans and stops moving, his lips only lightly brushing over yours, panting heavily, his forehead pressing against yours as he tries to hold back his orgasm.

Sukuna pushes himself up on his elbows, his thick cock slipping out of you, only letting his fat mushroom tip caress your swollen clit. Sukuna gazes at you, his tattooed cheeks flushed, maroon eyes full of need. His large hands land on your legs, calloused fingers running slowly over your thighs and calves, making you tremble under his tender touches.

Sukuna grabs your legs and lifts them, putting them over his broad shoulders. Heated, wet kisses land on both your ankles before Sukuna snaps his hips again and fucks his gorgeous cock back into you. You cry out his name, throwing your head back on his pillow, your mouth opening in a row of mewls. The switch of position makes things even more intense. You can feel Sukuna even deeper inside you with the way he's folding you in half, making the fluttery feeling in your pussy become so intense that you sob from it.

You hear Sukuna's sexy, breathless groans and feel his strong body on top of you, his buff muscles flexing with every deep thrust. His weight presses you down into the mattress, fucking you so deep that it makes you dizzy. But he takes things slow. Savoring your first time making love to the fullest.

He leans down so his face is so close to yours that you are breathing each other's breath, your eyes locked in a deep, intense gaze as you both get closer and closer to your peak with every thrust. Your eyelashes flutter as you feel your pussy growing tighter around Sukuna's cock, the butterflies in your tummy going crazy.

"Look at me, princess. Fuck... look at me."

You moan loudly, obeying Sukuna's wish, looking deeply into his eyes, sighing anytime his fat cockhead hits your sweet spot with the most delicious precision, making a firework of bliss explode inside you with every slow thrust. You mewl desperately, nails digging into Sukuna's skin, hips lifting needily to meet his slow thrusts. Just a bit more, just a little bit more, and you will drown in bliss!

You see the moment Sukuna reaches the point of no return. See it in his heavy-lidded maroon eyes when he can't hold back his orgasm anymore. And Sukuna cums deep inside your pussy, looking so sexy and beautiful with his eyes so soft and full of bliss, his mouth hanging open with the sexiest low moans falling from his lips as he ruts against you, fucking his whole orgasm into you.

You follow him only a moment later, squealing his name loudly, your whole body shaking, pussy so tight around Sukuna's fat cock that he is gasping from it.

"Fuck, princess. Yeah, cum for me, baby, just like that. Just like that. Fuck! Milk me dry."

You are lost in pleasure, moaning and mewling as he fucks you slowly through your orgasm. Sukuna's soft lips claim yours again, swallowing your mewls, kissing you sweet and deep as he rests his heavy weight fully on you, pressing you down into the sheets while he still rolls his hips slowly against you, letting you enjoy his cock until the last waves of your high have ebbed off. Giving you his all, just like you are giving him your all.

You sigh happily against Sukuna's lips, hugging him tightly to you, your fingers playing with the short stubble of his undercut before they run down his broad, muscular back and back up again, caressing him lovingly. And he kisses you slowly with those sexy, deep French kisses. Your breathing gradually slows down again, your bodies relaxing against each other, but neither of you makes a move to let go.

The sex scene made me blush so much AAAHH 😳😳 It's not just fucking anymore but lovemaking with deep eye contact!! I am so flustered 💗😵

I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! The scene at the party where Sukuna attacked that guy wasn't planned at first, but my dear Kuna told me that he wants to let everyone know we are his girl and that anyone who gives us shit will get into trouble with the Ice King himself lol. He is so funny uwu Thank you so much for reading! I am always so happy when I can share a new chapter with you and see your reactions! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗 In the next chapter, we will have: Two dates with boyfie Sukuna (one which kind of fails, but in a funny way, and a real one). More ice hockey because Reader still has her job as Sukuna's lucky charm! And more bonding.

[awrkive]

[TEASER] CATCH YOUR WAVE (m) — JJK.

the last thing you expected when you strolled into your new school is to become the favorite project of the 5’11” tatted-up overly enthusiastic, golden-retriever-in-human-form PE teacher, jeon jungkook. he’s all goofy grins, bad math puns, and relentless charm, while you’re busy pretending you’re immune to his antics... spoiler alert: you’re not. and that infuriates you. 

alternatively, jungkook tries to prove that opposites don’t just attract — they collide. a classic case of one plus one equals: “oh, no. i like him.”

PAIRING jeon jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE r18+ (fuff, slight angst, mature content) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WORD COUNT ~15k (still working around the final wc)

TEASER WORD COUNT 1.8k words

WARNINGS/MISC teachers!au, pe teacher!jk, math teacher!reader, seven!jungkook, himbo!jk, coworkers!au (works in the same school), oc gets kinda mean sometimes but jungkook likes it lmfao, extremely corny pick up lines.. he tries 💔 2000s romcoms references (sorry) warnings for this teaser: nothing major. just bad math puns delivered by himbo jungkook :')

NOTES inspired by the whole “can she gaf me💔” vibes in the seven mv (by jungkook) and ultimately the click five’s song, catch your wave (hence the title🥸 pls listen to the song for the whole vibes hehe <3). ive been wanting to write himbo jk for awhile bcs all my jks are like … smart so far so i thought wait we need to change that. gahhhh im so so freaking excited ive been thinking about writing this ever ever since i wrote that one himbo jk drabble 💃🏼

[ CYW MOODBOARD ] • [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

RELEASE DATE 2025, FEBRUARY 15TH | 01:00 AM KOREAN STANDARD TIME (GMT+9)

They say life is a balance of good and bad days, and you’re not a pessimistic person, but sometimes enough is enough. How is your week already this bad when it’s just barely started? 

Sunday morning, when you picked up your laundry from the shop, you were too late to realize that you mixed not just one but two white underwear with the colored loads. You’d blame it on the fact that they were too tiny, too flimsy for you to notice. But you know you should’ve double-checked before putting them in the machine. And now you have lost two panties. And in this economy? That shit cost a ton. 

When Monday came and the head of the Math Department informed you there was a sudden shift in your schedule for the semester, it meant that instead of teaching three Algebra classes for tenth graders, you’re also teaching pre-Algebra for eighth graders, meaning you’re gonna have to cross the long walk from the high school building to the middle school one, the latter being all the way to the left wing, completely the opposite side of the right wing where the faculty room and your initial classes are. 

Today, you’ve woken up with your WiFi not connected to the internet (something you have to talk to your landlord about when you come back home) and just two minutes ago, you realized you forgot to take your coffee order with you from the cafe across your school building, the sad garlic bread you bought along with it staring right at you without its beloved beverage pair. 

Truthfully, it might be your last straw. How the hell is this happening to you out of all people? The semester is just starting, for god’s sake, and you’re already hanging on by a thread. 

You take a deep breath on your seat before standing up from your cubicle, heading to the coffee machine by the snack bar.

You hate the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep on stocking the pantry with, it’s too naturally sweet – and you don’t like your coffee with sugar. 

But you have no choice but to make do. The cafe’s too far out and your first class starts in about twenty minutes. 

“Good morning, Ms. Math Genius – ready to crunch some numbers today?” 

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, you shut your eyes close for a moment when you hear the familiar voice. 

You stir your coffee with downturned lips.

“Only if you promise to flex those brain muscles—” You say, turning to look to the side. Much to your expectation, it’s Jeon Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall with that usual faux suave he keeps on around you – which you can’t take seriously because his big doe eyes tell you a completely different story. He’s wearing some Nike dri fit shirt, one that’s too tight around his chest and accentuates a comparatively tiny waist that you have to force your eyes upwards. But as they do, they land on the biceps that are straining against the poor material. It wasn’t lost on you though that one second after, they’re suddenly flexing. You arch your brow as you glance a look on his face. “—as much as you flex those biceps.” 

Jungkook’s lips curl into a huge grin, expecting the jab. 

“You know it!” He chuckles, running his fingers through his bangs. “I’m all about solving problems, and I’d say my favorite equation is you plus me equals a perfect start to the day.” 

You fight a loud groan from escaping your lips as soon as he says that, giving him a certain look before shaking your head and going back to your coffee. 

But you should’ve known better by now, because Jungkook – aside from being a PE teacher extraordinaire and every student’s favorite at that, Thee Football Coach, 5’11” tatted brunette with a long, fluffy hair paired with an objectively, annoyingly attractive face – is persistent. 

Most especially when it comes to annoying you. 

A few steps, and then you feel him getting closer to you. 

“Did you know that—” 

You roll your eyes. That’s it. If it’s another one of his corny math pick-up lines again you swear to god— 

“Jungkook, you don’t have to keep doing this everyda—” 

“—we’re like parallel lines?” 

“What.”

“Did you know that we’re like parallel lines?” Jungkook repeats earnestly, just like he always does. When he’s up in your personal space like this, it’s easy to get a waft of his cologne – and your annoyance could’ve been justified if he smelled like shit but somehow, even though he looks like he just got back from a run judging by his running shoes and gym bag, he still smells… okay. 

Just okay. As in, you don’t care how good he smells like or how he smells at all.

You make sure to keep that thought at the back of your head. 

“No.” You say, hoping to dismiss the conversation right there as you pick up the cup of coffee from the machine, ready to turn on your heel, but then Jungkook laughs ever so slightly and gives your arm a barely-there poke.

“Come on, entertain me a little.” 

You squint your eyes at him. He challenges your stare with a growing smile on his face. Scoffing, you roll your eyes again before you put the paper cup back on the table. With a sigh, you cross your arms and look at Jungkook. For a split second, his eyes cast downwards to your chest level but he quickly snaps out of it. 

“Okay… we’re like parallel lines… why? Because we’ll never meet?” You say in response to his little request, keeping your tone impassive. 

Jungkook’s eyes slowly widen at your words, smile slowly dropping – as if the logic of your words have ruined one of his million pick-up lines again. 

“I– no! What? I meant, we’re like, always running to each other! Side by side. Parallel lines.”

“Okay… so still never meeting?” You ask impatiently, brows furrowing. 

Jungkook mirrors your confusion. Then, he raises a hand, one finger up. “One second. I’ll fix this–” he takes his phone out from his pocket, types on it quickly, lip jutting out as he reads whatever he’s looking up, and then, “Ohh, I might have meant asymptote lines. We’re like asymptote lines.” 

Your face contorts into even deeper confusion. Holy shit, you’re not dealing with this very early on in the morning, especially not after the circumstances of the past hours.

“Asymptote lines are more depressing than parallel lines if we’re talking metaphorically.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“I would hope I know my lines, Jungkook. I teach them everyday.” 

He laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners cutely, and you hate how that tugs something at your heartstrings. 

You catch yourself right at that moment.

Jeon Jungkook is not cute. You keep in mind. He’s not cute. 

Jungkook thinks you’re so cute. Gorgeous, most of all, and unbelievably so. You and your signature furrowed brows and pink pouty lips.

As usual, you have your hair up in a clean bun today, and Jungkook can smell the lace of sweet vanilla from you as he takes a step closer to get a cup for himself. 

He loves the coffee here. Whatever brand they keep stocking the pantry with, it’s sweet as fuck. Just like how Jungkook likes his caffeine dose. Kind of like you, he thinks. 

Jungkook casts a quick glance at you again, can't really help himself when you're so pretty, although he makes sure to be subtle about it.

You’re wearing another one of your pencil skirts, one that he has to avoid staring at for longer than three seconds lest his mind takes him too far – but the upper view is even more of a torture, unfortunaly for him. Because as much as you wear the same outfit every single day and it should mean that Jungkook should get used to it by now, he can never be immune to your silk long sleeves, where you keep the top three buttons open – and as much as Jungkook tries to pry his gaze away from the exposed skin down from your neck, it’s like there’s a strange force in the universe that keeps him on it. Doesn’t really help that you like crossing your arms under your chest, too, making his mind run a mile per minute at the thoughts that form inside his head when a very apparent cleavage shows—

Alright. Damn. It’s like 8 am. 

And you were saying something about lines…

“Yeah? I hope you can teach me too, I need to—” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Jeon.” You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, taking your coffee with you as you head to the direction of your cubicle. 

The nickname makes Jungkook’s lips curl up. He probably shouldn’t smile, given that you only ever call him that when you want to cut the conversation with him short. But he can’t help it, it sounds sweet coming from your pretty lips. 

In an attempt to not look like a fool, Jungkook bites his lip as he watches your disappearing figure, your heels clicking on the floor as you walk away. Your legs look so long in that grey pencil skirt, and it really should be criminal how you look like that even when you’re just showing your back. 

In his trance, he forgets about the brewing coffee in his cup and absentmindedly takes it out while the machine is still running, the hot liquid pouring from the nozzle quickly burning the skin on his finger. 

“Oh, shit!” He hisses, jumping from the shock, almost knocking his coffee out but thankfully he manages to catch it on time, just as when another member of the faculty walks by the snack bar. 

With an awkward smile, Jungkook raises a thumbs up to Mrs. Lee. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee. Looking rad as always.” He cheerfully greets, and Mrs. Lee’s confusion from seeing him fumble with his cup earlier quickly turns into a coo. 

“Oh, Mr. Jeon, you charming kid. I was just gonna get my cup of coffee.” She says, walking towards his direction. 

Jungkook adjusts the strap of his gym bag to his shoulder and takes a cup for Mrs. Lee with a grin, making her smile. 

She thanks him and with a playful salute, Jungkook goes toward the general direction of his cubicle, and because the PE department and Math department are just across from each other, he walks past you, typing something on your iPad before you look around and catch his gaze.

Jungkook automatically waves, smiling brightly, but you only frown, shutting your iPad close and ignoring him.

Amused, Jungkook tries to fight off a huge grin, taking a few long strides to get to his own cubicle. 

His day is already off to a good start.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2025. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and/or translating any of my works are not allowed.

[woso-dreamzzz]

The King II

Alexia Putellas x Sister!Reader

Patri Guijarro x Putellas!Reader

Summary: Your sister thinks you're hiding something from her

There's something different with you.

Alexia knows that for a fact.

There's something that's changed. There's something that's happened.

Alexia can tell just from the way you've relaxed, the way your posture is more open, the way you're smiling more rather than your usual stern face and eye rolls.

Her own eyes narrow as she watches you lean against a wall with Patri, talking in hushed whispers as Mapi passes by, slapping you on the shoulder with a massive grin on her face.

Gears tick in your sister's head as she watches you throughout training - your smiling, carefree face lit up in delight.

It comes to her in the middle of the night.

There's a romantic comedy playing on the bedroom tv and Olga curled up by her side but Alexia still bolts upright, shattering the soft atmosphere that had been building.

"She slept with a groupie!"

Olga rubs the sleep from her eyes, blinking a few times as she's rudely awoken by Alexia's swift movements. "What?"

"My sister! Oh my god...Olga, she's sleeping with a fan! That's why she's all light and airy at training! Some football groupie is taking advantage of my sister!"

"Ale...what if she's just gotten a girlfriend?"

Alexia gives her a look of disbelief. "Don't be so disgusting. Y/n hasn't got a girlfriend! She can barely talk to girls! No, some groupie is taking advantage of my sister's inexperience!"

"I don't think...You know what? Sure, whatever you say, Ale. Can we finish our film now?"

When Alexia comes into training the next day, you can tell something's different about her.

She's been kind of shifty and awkward...

More awkward than normal that is.

She hovers by you incessantly, looking over your shoulder when you're texting and walking you to your car everyday like she's worried someone's going to jump out of the bushes or something.

You're pretty sure you even saw her car outside of your apartment when you left in the morning but it was already gone by the time Patri came downstairs so you could carpool together to training.

Everything about your sister is getting stranger and stranger through the coming days and you don't know what you could have possibly done to get her to hover like this.

You're not sick. You're not injured and those are the only two reasons she's hovered in the past like that time when you were ten and caught the flu and Alexia camped out on your bedroom floor even though Mama told her she'd get sick too or that time exactly a year later when you'd fallen from the jungle gym at school and broke your arm.

She'd cried so hard in the hospital that the nurses thought she was the one that was injured.

She's hovering a bit like that now though and you subtly pat at your limbs in case she's seeing something you haven't noticed yet.

But there's nothing wrong with you. Nothing that would alarm Alexia anyway and you really don't know why she's staring at you so intently.

You're not even sure she knows how she's look at you right now - wide eyed and unblinking.

Your sister and subtle just don't seem to work in the same sentence.

Least of all in the middle of the night when you open your apartment door to Alexia standing there.

"Ale?" You say, rubbing your eyes to rid the sleep from them," What's...? What's going?"

Alexia takes you in.

You must have been sleeping, hair all messy and the soft Stitch pyjamas Alba got you for Christmas on your body.

"I can't want to come and visit my sister?" Alexia asks.

"At one in the morning? Ale, we have training tomorrow."

"I know," Alexia says, practically barging her way through your door and beelining straight for your bedroom.

Her face falls the moment she gets in though.

"What are you looking for?" You ask, still yawning as you come up behind her," If this is about that jean skirt thing, I didn't take it. Alba's got it. Not me. You know I don't wear that kind of stuff."

Alexia pulls a face as she looks around the room, clearly not finding what she wanted.

"Like, I can call Alba and tell her to give it back," You continue," But I don't know why you need to in the middle of the night so urgently. I mean...Ale? Alexia?"

But your sister is already gone and you wake up the next day ninety percent sure that the whole interaction was some dream hallucination brought on by something dodgy that you'd cooked.

Which is why, here and now, you lay splayed out on your sofa with Patri ordering pizza.

Technically, she lives one floor above you but you've been cohabitating more and more these recent weeks.

She's at home in your apartment and you're at home in hers.

"I was thinking," She says, fingers slowly moving up and down your bare arm," That after this season, we can go away for a bit. Just the two of us."

"The two of us?"

Patri tilts your head up until you can just about feel her lips on yours. "Us. Some sand. Some sea. A lot of sex."

"I like that plan."

You connect your lips with hers and before you know it, you're pressed up in bed together and lazily making out again.

"Another round?" Patri asks, eyes hooded and salacious smirk upon her face.

"I would," You say," But I think the pizza man who has been ringing the doorbell won't be happy to wait any longer."

You pull on your clothes, still buttoning up your shirt when you swing open the door.

You expect the pizza man.

Your mouth hangs open at the sight of your sister there.

Her eyes narrow as she takes in your appearance - your messy sex hair and the hickeys running up your neck.

"I knew it!" She says, barging in like she did last week," You're sleeping with a groupie!"

"I-What?!"

But Alexia isn't listening anymore.

Her eyes zero in on the pile of Patri's clothes.

They start from your sofa but track the path you both took into your bedroom.

Alexia turns to you slowly, eyes going between you and the clothes. "She's still here?"

"Alexia, wait. It's not-"

Alexia's slams your bedroom door open as you scramble after her.

Your girlfriend sits up in your bed, covers pressed against her chest as she awkwardly smiles at your sister.

"Hey, Ale..."

You clear your throat and Alexia's eyes immediately rest on you - eyes wide in shock.

"So..." You say," At least Patri's not a groupie?"

[sabsberries]

birthday sex

summary - it wouldn't really be a happy birthday without some birthday head

w.c. - 2.2k

warnings - smut, oral (m! receiving), biting idk, swearing, use of y/n, first person, fiancé Harry!!!

masterlist | taglist

When I first met Harry, I quickly realised that one of his biggest fears was growing old. He had never explicitly told me, but I could tell that as the plans we made as freshly turned twenty-one year olds grew closer, Harry’s fear seemed to grow with them. Touring Italy at twenty-five? Perfect. Turning twenty-five? Terrifying. A weekend away in France for his twenty-seventh? Wonderful. Becoming a twenty-seven year old? The worst thing in the world.

I could only imagine the turmoil in his head these past few days, gnawing away at the peaceful thoughts that usually came with his well-earned touring breaks—leaving behind nothing but a big, hot, steaming pile of insecurity and fear.

Of course, he would never admit it—not to his family, not to his friends, and especially not to me. But I saw it in the smallest of ways. The way his lip quivered when he spoke about the future, the slight furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched, as if bracing for impact. He talked about growing old with me like it was a dream, but his body betrayed him. He hated it.

Now, though, he looked at peace. The early morning light spilled through the curtains, casting soft shadows over his face as he slept, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. For a few quiet moments, there was no fear, no tension—just him, lost in sleep, untouched by the weight of the day ahead. But today was his birthday.

I watched him, my fingers tracing invisible patterns against the sheets as I ran through every idea I had. I could make him breakfast, of course. Or maybe we could find a new café to try. Or we could even stay in and order something special. That’d be nice. But none of it felt enough. None of it could shield him from the inevitable, the thing he was dreading so much. I wanted today to be perfect for him, but how do you make peace with something that’s impossible to avoid?

He shifted slightly, his fingers twitching as if searching for something. A faint sigh escaped his lips, his eyes fluttering open just a crack before closing again, as though trying to hold on to the last remnants of sleep. His eyes slowly opened, the brightness of the room pulling him fully awake. For a moment, he lay still, blinking at the ceiling as if waiting for the world to make sense again. Then, his gaze drifted to me—soft, familiar, but there was something else in it today, something hidden, almost hesitant.

"Good morning, Birthday Boy." I mumbled, watching as his eyes fluttered shut again, and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Morning, my love." His voice was husky, tinged with humour. "What time is it?"

"Only half nine, or something. Way too early to be awake on a Saturday."

He yawned and nodded slightly, rubbing his eye. "Come here." His hand found my waist, pulling me on top of him, his grin never fading.

I laughed as he pulled me onto his stomach, my legs straddling his waist, the duvet tangled around us. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyes hazy with sleep, and his lips stretched into a wide, easy grin. "What do you want to do today?" I whispered, grabbing his hands and absently fiddling with his ringless fingers.

"Dunno. Nothing, really." His grin deepened, and his gaze never wavered from mine. His fingers twitched, almost as if he wanted to hold onto mine, but he stopped himself.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." He reaffirmed, voice soft. "I'd quite like to spend it doing fuck all with my fiancé. Who, by the way, hasn’t even given me my birthday kiss yet."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to let you wake up before bombarding you." I laughed, placing a hand on his chest and pushing it down when he tried to lean up to meet me.

I leaned down instead, brushing my lips against his, soft at first—just a gentle pressure, a playful reminder that I was here. His breath caught for a second, as if he hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon, but he melted into it, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction. His hands found their way to my back, pulling me closer, as if testing the distance between us.

The kiss deepened, slow and easy, like it had a quiet promise behind it. His lips moved against mine with a delicate urgency, as though making sure this moment would be just ours. I let myself get lost in it, closing my eyes and feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my chest.

For a while, neither of us spoke, the world outside fading into nothing but the softness of the kiss, the comfort of knowing the other was there, and for a brief moment, all the worries that clung to Harry seemed to be forgotten. 

His lips curved into a smirk against mine, but there was something else there now—something heavier. His hands, which had been resting lightly on my back, gripped tighter, his fingers pressing into my skin like he was trying to hold me there, just a little longer. The shift between us was subtle at first, a slight change in the way his mouth moved against mine, the way his breath hitched between kisses. But then, like a current pulling me under, it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was heat, need, something deeper. I pulled back just enough to look at him, my forehead resting against his.

"Happy birthday, Harry," I whispered, the words feeling more weighty now than they ever had before.

He hummed quietly, his head shaking ever so slightly, and lifted his face so that our lips could slot back together. It was different now. It was almost hungry, and the way his lips took dominance over mine certainly matched the tone.

His hands slid under my shirt, warm and deliberate as he traced the curve of my waist, fingers brushing along the skin with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. There was nothing innocent about it now. His touch was purposeful, searching, as if each movement of his hand was an attempt to tether me to him, to ground us both in this moment.

I could feel the weight of his gaze as it shifted, his eyes darkening just slightly when they met mine. The playful grin from moments before was gone, replaced by something more intense, almost desperate. It made my heart race faster, my pulse fluttering in my chest.

I leant down again, however this time to pepper light, barely there, kisses along his jawline and neck, slowly increasing in pressure until I reached just above his collarbone, where I sunk my teeth in. "Oh shit!" He hissed, bucking his hips up against mine and letting out a breathy laugh at the way it made me moan.

I moved down his chest, nipping after every few kisses, and occasionally darting out my tongue to sooth over any particularly harsher bites, before shimmying down his hips, placing a small 'thank you' kiss just above his belly button as he spread his legs enough for me to climb between.

His grey boxers had formed a darker patch where the tip of his dick had begun leaking, and, despite being covered by fabric, I could tell he had to be painfully hard by now. I pressed a delicate kiss on the wet patch, pushing out my tongue to slightly swipe across it before moving back down to his thighs and kissing from his meaty inner thigh up to his hip bone.

"Please, Y/N, c'mon." He practically cried, his hand moving to scoop a handful of hair into a ponytail, but not doing much to move my head aside from a gentle tug.

"Be patient." I mumbled, sinking my teeth into his inner thigh.

"Holy— fuck!" He exclaimed, his leg jostling in surprise.

I let go and used my tongue to sooth over the area before placing a final kiss, and moving back up.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down his thighs just enough so I could have full access. His dick truly looked painful, with his tip a deep red with precum leaking from the top, and his base thick with his veins slightly enlarged. I dipped my head down and wrapped my lips around his tip, barely sucking whilst my tongue moved around in circles.

Once again, his hips shot up, pushing his dick further into my mouth, and a loud, deep, guttural moan escaped from him, "Oh my fuckin— oh, shit, baby!"

With one hand, I pushed his shaking hips back down onto the bed whilst the other wrapped around his base, using the spit that trailed from my mouth as lube as I bobbed my head up and down.

I pulled my hand away and relaxed my jaw, allowing Harry deeper down my throat whilst my hands massaged deep circles into his hip bones.

“Shit I— please, Y/N.” He whined. I looked up at him and felt my cheeks heating at the sight of his head thrown back, his chest heaving and his abs clenched tight.

My jaw was already beginning to ache, but I didn’t care. The way he was whimpering and whining and crying out was enough motivation to plough through.

I pulled up completely. My hand shot back to continue a steady pace with my thumb encircling his tip, pushing over his slit every few seconds.

“Please, can I?” He asked, his cheeks flushed a deep pink colour, his lips red and raw from him biting them, and his eyes slightly clouded over and barely open.

I grinned, already knowing what he wanted to do, and nodded my head, allowing him to scoop up all of my hair into a ponytail and guide me back to his cock. His hand moved to replace mine, and after a couple pumps, his dick was being led right back into my open mouth.

Almost immediately, my tongue began working overtime, running up and down the vein in the underside of his cock, whilst I was gently sucking. “Okay, you ready?” He questioned, shifting his hips and propping up both of his legs so that his feet were flat against the bed.

I hummed ‘yes’, and once again relaxed my jaw. At first, his thrusts were slow, careful. Then, his grip on my hair tightened. His hips snapped forward, his movements gaining purpose. The sounds between us were obscene, messy, breathless, desperate. Each time his tip hit the back of my throat, I moaned louder, my body reacting on instinct.

As his thrusts got sloppier, Harry’s whimpers turned into groans, his back arched away from the bed, and his grip on my hair became almost impossibly tight.

“I’m gonna– shit! I’m gonna cum.” He groaned, his spare hand clutching the bedsheets next to his waist.

I bobbed my head to match the timings of his thrusts, and with one final dig of my nails into his thigh and a loud whimper, he was shooting hot bursts of cum down my throat. His grip loosened with every groan, moan, and whine that escaped him, and, after a minute or so of silence, he was quick to rub the back of my scalp and pull me off of his dick and up towards him.

"You’re fucking amazing. Do you know that?" He chuckled, breathlessly, his chest rising and falling beneath me. His hair was damp at the edges, sticking slightly to his forehead, and a faint sheen of sweat glowed against his flushed skin.

I grinned, my heart swelling at the way he looked at me, like I was something to be treasured. "I think I’ve heard it before—once or twice."

His breathing slowed, his grip on me loosening as exhaustion crept in. I traced slow circles over his ribs, my touch light, grounding him. He hummed, content, his fingers skimming lazily up my arm before coming to rest over my heart.

Our faces mirrored each other, wide, unabashed smiles stretching across pink-tinted cheeks. I traced my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin, the slight roughness where stubble had started to grow. His eyes, still heavy with sleep and something softer, never left mine.

I shifted slightly, pressing my forehead against his, breathing him in - warm, familiar, safe. "I love you. Happy birthday." My voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried everything I meant.

His fingers ghosted over my waist before pulling me closer, his grip firm yet gentle, like he needed to feel me against him. His smile softened, the playfulness still there, but something deeper flickered in his gaze. "I love you more."

For a moment, neither of us moved. The world outside didn’t matter; the ticking of the clock, the slow morning sun creeping across the sheets, the quiet hum of the city beyond our window. There was just us, tangled in warmth, the weight of the day which lay ahead momentarily forgotten.

------------

taglist - @harryshouseo1 @hannah9921 @hisparentsgallerryy @secretisme4 @cloudyluun @mads3502 reply here or dm to be added!

[21stcenturyvoice]

It is never easy to be an immortal, seeing all your loved ones spend their lives in your presence and then disappear like dust as the years goes by… no. It’s never easy, but it’s beautiful nonetheless. I can’t count the many days I’ve spent watching my grandchildren play at the park, so many that now it’s their grandchildren playing instead. And you know, my dear? Each of them is as beautiful as you were. Not all of them have the same eyes, but they all sparkle of the same joy and mischievousness, or maybe I see it because I crave to see yours one more time. It’s unbelievably funny knowing that I’ll win the “Youngest Passing Uncle” every year for eternity. Do you know what is also funny? That I’ll always be able to play with my nieces and nephews no matter how old I get or how hyper they are, I will always be able to pick them up, make them fly over my head and catch them right in my arms. I’ll always have a little something to give on their birthdays, that little something that belonged to someone that came before them that truly loved it just like they do, sometimes that little something was yours. It’s also exhilarant to see my descendants struggle with their teenage children and come begging for advice, how could I ever leave my family? They each make me so proud, just for existing. Each of them is a miracle that gets the chance to shine bright in the span of a lifetime and then disappear, beautiful like stars in the sky that brighten the darkest nights. Each one of them is, has been or will be a star in the beautiful constellation that has been this family tree. Their light shines so bright compared to my own bleak existence lived as a spectator of their greatness. I truly am blessed to see their own possibilities, their dreams come true, watch them fall in love and show just how life is supposed to be lived. But being an immortal is never easy. Not when you see the pain of your children when they can’t find it in their hearts to get out of bed in the morning, to try it just even one more time, one more day. Not when you hear the pain in their voices as they cry their souls out, when they tell you oh-so-tiredly that they can’t do it no more. So no, being immortal is never easy, but at least I can hold all my children and grandchildren in my arms when they die and they don’t have to feel cold and alone even if I can’t follow them. I know that caring of the living is my job, just as yours is to take care of them when they’re out of reach, my betrothed, but for once I wished I didn’t have to part with them like I had to do with you.

Most immortals become the angsty “everyone I have ever loved is gone” kind of immortal. You, on the other hand, instead took it upon yourself to be a loving presence to entire generations of your chosen family, because they are descended from someone you once loved long ago.

[kaisentine]

݁ ִ  ۫ ⸺ ❝ 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔　.ᐟ　❞

⌗ ⸺ ❝ 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 . . ! ❞ the one thing you dread the most is your friends overanalyzing and hyping you up all because of a simple interaction with your crush—so annoying! ft. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, & oliver aiku general cw. just idiots in love, reader is so deep into denial it’s infuriating, highschool au, shidou, fem reader . . . ( MY BAD ) sticky-note i think i just yapped my brains out with this one ( what’s new! ). bomb idea, explosive writing! NAWT PROOFREAD

sticky note. BAEE 😁 thought of this cuz i was also doing snapstreaks

𐔌 . 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 is apparently so into you because . . . ❝ he snaps you in the morning ! ❞

your friend seems way more excited than you are. it’s way too early for her to already be geeked out at you opening kaiser’s snap for streaks. “i don’t get it,” you say as you open the image—he’s still at home even though most students are already in their respective classes, it’s the side of his face and really nothing special ( if you didn’t like him ). “he’s the epitome of ‘i don’t snap til i’m done with training.” she explains further yet you still don’t understand why she’s pointing it out. “does that quote even exist?” you ask, she’s off with your phone to observe the very thought out ( not really ) photo and shoves your phone into your face with her manicured finger pointing something out. “never mind that! look!” she has effectively made your brain’s circuit cut short because you don’t understand. you grab her wrist to control the distance so you can actually see. why is she pointing at his hair? “what am i looking at?” you voice your exact thoughts. “not tryna be mean to your crush or whatever, but it’s clear he has bed head!” she exclaims, attempting to remove your hand from her wrist, “there’s a reason he only snaps after training . . .” she ends in a murmur. “ha-ha, very funny. i still don’t get it.” you fake laugh at her sly comment and finally surrender her arm—letting it drop. “he hates people seeing him in the morning because of that,” she contemplates saying what she is just about to say—when has she ever done that? “maybe he wants to be the first man you see in the morning, that’s why!” she giggles, and your jaw drops; that is the biggest stretch she has ever came up with! “are you a lunatic?!? the last thing i’d want to do is show him me in the morning . . . he probably hates me!” this reaction of yours wasn’t what you friend wanted to get out from you. she was expecting to see a gleam of hope in your eyes but instead she’s met with a gloss of panic.

actually, your friend was spot on—he snaps you in the morning because he wants to be the first man you see in the morning. the strategy isn’t as effective as he would like it to be because despite the fact he has a pretty reasonable schedule like how he sleeps 7 hours every night, he only knocks out at about 2 am. he’s probably more effective at being late for school if anything. however, he’d rather you see him as at least one of the first males you see at such an ungodly time with ungodly bed head than you seeing him rush into the classroom because he’s late for the first time you glance at his ( glorious ) face that day. the man also decides he’s way too good for the stupidly cute filters you can find on the app so those are out of question—random wall photos are too. gets ness to hype him up and then chastises him if you don’t even look his way.

sticky note. i feel like this is a stupid reason but it’s such a funny concept

𐔌 . 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄 is apparently so interested in you because . . . ❝ he ate a fry . ❞

your friend is dead serious but you’re just looking at her like ‘oh you actually serious?’. “sorry, what?” you bring your ear closer to her mouth in hopes you probably just misheard what she said. “he. ate. a. fry.” she repeats—nope she is definitely not joking with you. “i don’t see how sae eating a fry relates to him liking me,” you start deadpanning at her attempt at convincing you itoshi sae likes you—she sucks at this! she cocks a brow and gives you a dirty look, “i have a theory you might not actually like him . . . God that man hates fries.” she shudders at the thought. “they were the fries you brought!” she adds on, quickly regaining her composure from pure terror. “okay . . . yeah but it was one singular—not plural—fry, are you okay?” yes, you have a point, it was one fry, and now you’re concerned for you friend. she raises her hands up in surrender while sighing like she was just defeated—have you finally tamed the hostile creature? nope. there’s a sudden stupid smirk on her face that looks straight-up devious, “and plural—not singular—reasons why he is sooo interested!” she elongates and dramatizes the ‘so’, and you mentally slap yourself to make up for the stupidness you can feel radiating off her words. “i can never win with you, can i?” you ask but the answer is already clear—you cannot.

yup, sae hates fries, dearly—that isn’t some kind of secret because he is pretty open about it. once even telling you friend to . . . “fuck off,” when she thought it was a good idea to offer him the stick of pure deliciousness ( hence why she gets shivers thinking about it ). he doesn’t care about a lot of things like how he doesn’t bother himself with keeping most things private or public because he simply just does not give a flying shit. neither does he really care if he makes his feelings clear or not—mixed signals king! sure, he likes you but that doesn’t stop him from being nonchalant. the only time he’ll make openings are in soccer and anything other than that—he just lets it happen. that means if he is given a chance to ‘make a move’ and it’s served on a silver platter without him needing to excerpt any more effort? he’ll take it. if he isn’t, he waits for the next time. but that man doesn’t know anything about feelings so he thinks eating something you brought is making a move.

sticky note. this man is a FREAK but he’s a simple guy promise

𐔌 . 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈 is apparently so downbad for you because . . . ❝ he said ‘if i was a velociraptor, i’d eat y/n first’ ? ! ❞

your friend reads off her phone and accidentally pushes her desk towards your chair. “HUH?” you’re just as surprised as your friend is—shidou ryusei actually said that? “you have to look at this,” she states and smacks you in the face with her phone ( deja vu WHO ), it’s the school’s blog and the post is exactly what she just said. “that’s just . . . i mean—what?” you find it quite hard to comprehend what you were reading because what do you mean the weird guy you like posted that? “is that edited?” you ask for confirmation—you literally can’t believe it. she clicks the profile and it is him, you feel your face flush when you’re bombarded with images of him. “i get it! i get it!” you bark and swat her hand away, “whydoievenlikehim—“ you mutter before covering your eyes like you just saw something so distasteful. “girl, i don’t know . . . but he totally likes you,” she shrieks, turning off her phone so such madness is no longer seen. you aren’t entirely buying it, “i doubt it, if i was some kind of carnivorous animal, i wouldn’t eat the guy i like—at all!” you say with a frown on your face. she looks at you, looking even more horrified at what you just said to her. “his thinking process is probably out the window, y’know? he probably just means he wants you to be with him forever!” “in his stomach? no thanks.”

what makes you think shidou ryusei is okay in the head in the slightest? if he likes someone—he makes it so obvious! he doesn’t second guess his words, much less his online posts so as soon aas he was done typing out the words, he clicked post almost immediately. doesn’t regret it one bit. his eyes land anywhere but sae? that is truly a feat . . .

sticky note. does this even happen. also nagi really likes sleeping

𐔌 . 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 is apparently so desperate for you because . . . ❝ he sleeps on your shoulder . ❞

your friend is referring to the multiple times your crush has decided to accidentally fall asleep on your shoulder. “so . . .” you urge her to elaborate her point further than she already has. “and he only does it when he’s next to you,” she discerned, whipping out photo evidence in the form of a printed piece of paper. it’s really nothing too special—just the two of you sitting next to each other on the waiting lounge’s couch, waiting for your guys’ turn for the school’s mandatory medical check-up. he looks quite comfortable, arms crossed and manspreading ( 😭 ) but his head is rested on your shoulder—sleeping. “. . .why’d you print it,” you gasp at such an absurd action to prove a point and you quickly rip the paper out of her hands, “you’re insufferable.” you shake your head in disappointment. “a girl gotta do what she gotta do, y’know! how much more obvious does he need to be???” ugh, she’s being so dramatic—he’s just sleeping on your shoulder. “he probably realized i . . .didn’t mind so he doesn’t care,” you reject the idea. “you might be the insufferable one—why do you think he keeps doing it?” she says and you so want to side eye her but you aren’t going to turn sideways to do that because that is mad embarrassing. “i don’t know! he’s just some sleepy guy like,” you give her a pout before continuing, “. . .and people said that they feel sleepy around me.” you admit. “nah, they’re just saying you’re boring!” she giggles—did you not put that together? you playfully push her shoulder in annoyance. “but i’ll give you the answer—he wants to close to you, or in other words; he likes you!”

nagi is the type of lazy where he thinks it’s too much of a hassle to confess first but thinks making physical advancements don’t count. he can easily sleep anywhere, honestly. he likes his sleep but he loves good sleep and you just feel like a good person to sleep on so he decides to try it—and he’s right. he did do it accidentally the first time, it was on his mind but he really didn’t mean to! sleep just drenched his eyes and he was out cold—on your shoulder. there, he decides he likes you more than just a comfy pillow to doze off on.

sticky note. i feel like reader is very justified LMFAO. yk i have a friend who has more than a mu or a situationship but aren’t dating and she said he longest more than friends but not not dating was like 4 years

𐔌 . 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔 aiku is apparently so smitten for you because . . . ❝ girl, he confessed . . . ❞

your friend resists the overwhelming urge to bitch-slap you because you long-pressed your dms with him. the message wasn’t some kind of special confession just a simple ‘hey i know we just started talking but i think i’m inlove with you’ God reading that made you cringe. “yeah nope, not buying it.” you know he probably knows you saw it because of that stupid green dot on your profile but his message is still left on delivered. “why not?” she asks, “he knows you’ve read it, why edge him?” she pulls out her phone from her bag and faces her back towards you. “what are you doing . . ?” you’re honestly scared what she’s planning because even though you could also just stand up and look over her shoulder—she’d run out of the classroom and disappear. “texting someone,” she says while she’s rapidly typing out something, her shoulders shaking. “i don’t like the sound of that,” you refer to the hidden underlining of her tone, “you’re scaring me—ugh—whatever. i just started texting him, he barely knows me, he’s probably had 4 girlfriends in the span of 5 months—what makes me any different?” like—not trying to degrade yourself but you’re worried that he’s just going to play you too. “if he does, i’ll break his heart!” she says in resolve, doing the cliche moment of lifting up a fist and you giggle at her. there’s a quick buzz from your phone and it’s from the girl in-front of you, “what’s this?” you raise an eyebrow, clicking the notification pop-up. “just read it,” okay . . . if she insists. dot. dot. dot. there’s invisible crickets going off in your head. “is this from sendou?” “uh-huh.”

unbeknownst to you, your friend was actually texting her situationship ( of like 8 months LMFAO )—sendou shuto to ask him about oliver’s confession since they’re friends and all. ‘aiku n y/n? oh yeah he’s totally smitten man, i ain’t never seen aiku talk about a girl like he does w her’ is the message she forwarded to you that let the crickets rip! no but seriously, he normally has cycles like when he’s with one girl but then breaks up with her because he got eyes for another but now he promises that he only wants you!

bonus on why reo likes you because i might not be writing as much as i did this week because of school :p

mikage reo ⸺ ❝ he bought your entire christmas wishlist . . . ❞

[lieslab]

If we could only turn back time

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: After a Dispatch article leaks, your betrayed boyfriend kicks you out of your shared apartment and you're silenced in the worst way possible.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 5.1K

Trigger warning: Misunderstood trope, physical assault, anger, yelling, a car accident, plus graphic descriptions of physical injuries, and doctors/hospitals.

A/N: I had three hours of sad One Direction music, one request, and a dream. Requestee, you asked for angst and I have given it my all. I hope this meets every expectation and more <3

_ _ _

You were the light of Bang Chan’s life. At least, that’s what he thought. For months, his love grew for you. Over time, he opened up more and more. You crawled into his heart and made yourself at home. 

And then you tore it open. 

He thought he finally had the love of his life, but it turns out, you were just like the others. Not really loving him, but dragging along, clinging onto clout, and when the next man came, you jumped with both feet. You didn’t even say goodbye, but neither did he. 

There was no warning for either of you. One day, the two of you were head over heels for each other. The next, everything fell apart. Hearts cracked like stained glass. Tears fell, but the words from both of you didn’t provide the comfort the other so desperately craved. 

In the end, two hearts ripped apart. The world tipped in the wrong direction. You both lost your footing and for weeks, nothing would be the same for either of you, ever again. 

~ ~ ~ 

When you came home from buying groceries, the apartment was quiet, like usual. Chan’s warm presence had been gone since this morning. Up at the crack of dawn, he disappeared to continue making his dreams come true. 

You missed him when he was gone, just as he missed you, but dreams were important. No matter what happened between the two of you, it was the one thing you both agreed that it was important. No matter where your life took you, the most important thing was keeping focused on your dreams. 

Yes, the two of you were in love, but that wasn’t stopping either of you from pursuing your passions. Not yet engaged, the two of you vowed to be supportive of each other. Through thick and thin, in the risky moments, and everything in between; you swore to be there for one another. 

Your bare feet glided across the tile floor with ease. Without Chan, the apartment felt empty, but that didn’t stop you from trying to make it feel warm and fuzzy. Over on the side counter, you turned on the candle warmer. Maybe by the time Chan got home, the apartment would be full of a welcoming vanilla buttercream. 

You swore his cologne had hints of vanilla. He disagreed with you and insisted you didn’t know your scents. Just to prove a point, you bought the vanilla candle, and yet, he refused to see it.

He could be stubborn like that sometimes. Certain things he couldn’t see. No matter how hard and how obvious you attempted to make these things, he refused to see them. Sometimes, it was more frustrating than anything, but you learned to deal with every part of him; the good and the bad. 

You had your own set of flaws, too. Out of everyone existing in the world, there was nobody that you wanted to be with more than Chan. The two of you were still so young. There was a lifetime of adventures and fun to have. You were hoping the relationship between the two of you would last forever. 

It ended when Chan stormed through your front door. The bang of the front door slamming against the sidewall sent your heart racing. You grabbed a can of peas for defense and held your breath. 

Footsteps stormed through your living room. Your fingers turned pale around the can. A sigh of relief fell from you when you saw the furrow on Chan’s face. “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me. What’s wrong, baby? What happened?” 

You put down the can and walked towards him. Your hands stretched out to grab his face. To your surprise, he swatted them away. Your eyes widen at the faint sting. “What are you-” 

“You don’t get to baby me after what you did!” 

“I-I did something? What did I-” 

“Shut up! You don’t get to pretend like you don’t know! You know I’ve felt like a piece of shit because I can’t be here twenty-four-seven! You know I travel for work and yet you still choose to hurt me in the worst way possible!” 

Confusion filled your face and it just pissed him off more. He jerked his Samsung phone from his pocket. You watched as he typed in the password. Your actions from the past few days rolled through your head like stop-motion. Each silent click, more scenes filled your head. 

None of them stood out. You couldn’t recall what you did wrong, but Chan was furious. Your mouth opened, but words didn’t come out. He flipped the screen to find the bold words of a Dispatch article. Your heart hit the ground with a sickening splat. 

Trouble in paradise: A Rocky Road Ahead For Stray Kids’ Bang Chan’s Romantic Relationship. 

Attached, two photos of you grinning at another JYP idol from another group. In one, you were waving at them. In another, you were leaning over and hugging them. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” 

“Really? Because you know what it looks like to me? It looks like you were attempting to hide a close relationship with someone in a younger group.” 

“That’s not true! Chan, it’s Dispatch! You can’t possibly believe that I-” 

“I want you out of my apartment.” 

Your face fell at his words. “You…you wouldn’t. Please, just let me explain and I-” 

“When have you ever talked about him? Never! You’ve never been close to another idol! Yet now, you’re hugging him?” 

“Chan, please!” 

“Get out!” 

“But-” 

“Out!” His voice raised. “Get your stuff and get the fuck out of my apartment! Don’t bother coming back!” 

The words were loud enough to frighten you. You left the grocery bags scattered on the kitchen island and took off. Tears filled your eyes. You wanted to explain, but he kept cutting you off. 

Too heated to think about the situation, his insecurities got the best of him. In the kitchen, he slumped against the counter with his head in his hands. Warm tears filled his eyes at the sound of your sniffles. 

He wanted to comfort you, but the hurt was too much. He grew to love you with everything he had and within one Dispatch article, his swollen heart popped. How could you do this to him? After everything the two of you had been through, why did you have to ruin it? 

Tears blurred your vision and you didn’t look back. You jerked items from the closet and tossed them in your suitcase. Grabbing handfuls from each of your dresser drawers, you tossed them in with everything. Even the toiletries, you didn’t have time to organize them. 

Chan wanted you to go, so you’d leave. At the end of the day, this was his apartment. You paid rent, but his name was the first on the contract. He paid the down payment, not you. 

You gave him one last desperate look as you passed by, but he didn’t see it. His name fell from your mouth in a weak croak, but he didn’t pull his hands from his eyes. “Please, just go away.” 

You spun around, gripped your suitcase tighter, and then you did. 

~ ~ ~ 

All night, you drove around without a destination in mind. You refused to call one of Chan’s members and plead for help. It’d only stir up drama in the group. That was the last thing you wanted. 

Numbness hung over your head. You still couldn’t believe everything that happened a few hours ago. If he would have listened, he would have understood. The tears dried up a while ago, but the empty feeling in your chest didn’t go away. 

Seoul’s late afternoon crept into another dark night. Gray blotted skies drifted into a pitch black. Neon lights reflected off the paint on your car, but the warm colors didn’t warm your heart. 

The car felt lonely without Chan. You’d give anything to hear his laughter from beside you. The playful banter while he reminded you to turn on the correct turn signal. It’d been a constant inside joke between the two of you. Ever since you accidentally flicked on the wrong signal and turned the wrong way, he’d never let it go. 

The way he tipped his head forward. Messy tendrils of dark hair fell over his forehead. His squeaky laugh warmed your heart. Such a far comparison from the anger that rattled the apartment walls earlier. 

You poked his dimples between the stoplights. On nights when the two of you wanted to get away from everyday life, you found peace in this car. You’d drive and be in control for once. He’d sit beside you with a hand on your thigh. 

Simple conversations filled the car. Love pooled between the two of you. Shared laughter, quiet conversations, and the secret getaway that your car provided you’d do anything to turn back time. 

You loved him for a reason. You always had and you always would. Just because photos told one story, it didn’t mean they told the entire story. Snippets didn’t capture the truth. The context was important, but Chan was too distraught tonight. 

Too stressed out. Too angry. Too frustrated. Things built up and that article was the breaking point. Those photographs became thorns in your relationship. In one day, the roses wilted. Withered petals gathered at your feet. 

Tomorrow would be better, you reassured yourself as you drove. Tomorrow, Chan would realize he was wrong. He jumped the gun in this situation. In the morning, he’d call you and apologize. 

Tomorrow, you’d be welcomed home with a heartfelt apology and a bouquet of fresh flowers. A glass full of red wine, sweets, and a home cooked dinner. Tomorrow, things will be okay again. These tears were temporary. This hurt wouldn’t last forever. 

At a stoplight, you grabbed your phone and dialed Changbin’s number. On speaker phone, you waited and waited, but he didn’t pick up. If anyone would know the truth and be able to rationalize Chan’s brain, it was him. 

The red light from the stoplights highlighted faint tear streaks. You sniffled, wiping your long sleeve across your dripping nose. Your eyes shut and your voice cut out and quivered as you spoke. 

“Please know that I didn’t mean to cause him or you guys any harm. I ran into him the other day and asked if he could help teach me a dance. He’s one of JYP’s best dancers and I know Stray Kids are busy. His group is on break and I just thought I could surprise Chan with a dance.” 

“Saying it out loud, I get that it’s stupid now. I was just hoping it’d cheer him up. He’s been so stressed lately. I thought the least I could do was make him laugh.” 

“If you get a chance and if he’s willing to hear it, please let him know I love him. I love him and I’m sorry. Dispatch is stupid and I hate them. You can even ask that idol and he’ll tell you the same thing. I’m so sorry, Changbin. I’ll talk to you later. I have to find a place to stay tonight.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and shut your eyes. After clicking the end call button on your phone, you threw the device into your passenger’s seat. Maybe if you were lucky, Chan would hear out Changbin. Level-headed and rational, you knew Chan appreciated the advice he gave out. 

A car horn honked behind you. Your eyes quickly reopened and the green light stared back at you. Unblinking, you grumbled beneath your breath. “I’m going, I’m going, geez.” You inched out into the intersection, expecting to continue going straight. 

You weren’t expecting your car to jerk left. Your screams blended with the sound of crushing metal. Orange sparks flew. The sickening scent of burnt rubber and diesel hit your nose. Your seatbelt cut into your neck and briefly cut off your air flow. 

The last thing you remembered was the horn of the semi-truck vibrating your entire car. 

~ ~ ~ 

It wasn’t Dispatch that was the first one to find out about the devastating car accident; instead, it was Jeongin. He sucked in a deep breath as he walked into the hospital. Last night, after struggling with the flu, someone admitted his friend to the hospital. 

He mumbled beneath his breath, trying to figure out what to say. A blue medical mask sat over his nose and mouth. He knew to keep his distance, but he still felt awful that they were here. 

Hospitals were lonely. In the brief moments when families and friends disappeared. When the nurses were following their routine rounds and doctors were checking in on other patients, people were left alone. The isolating white walls. The uncomfortable piercing beeps from the heart rate monitor. The cold IV drips, distributing medicine directly into the bloodstream. 

Surgical stitches ached. Disease weighed heavily upon the lungs. Intubation and the mechanical push and pull of oxygen and carbon dioxide. Hospitals were the opposite of warm and welcoming. Cold and sterile, he rather wished his friend was at home. 

The colorful bouquet of multicolored flowers was the brightest thing in the hallway. Closed doors with numbers passed by as he walked. The nurse’s announcement of his friend’s room number echoed in his head. 

It dissipated when he heard your name from a nurse in a cracked room. Before he knew it, he was pushing the door open and stepping inside. On the hospital bed, you were unrecognizable. Scrapes and cuts laced your face. Both plum purple eyes swelled shut.  

The right side of your face puffed up unnaturally. Black stitches poked out from the bottom of your lip. That was just your face. That wasn’t beginning to touch the cast on your arm and the rest of your body hidden beneath the blue covers. 

He knew it was you. He recognized the promise ring on your ring finger. He had helped Chan pick it out. He glanced around, searching for Chan, but he wasn’t there.

“Are you lost?” 

He glanced up to find the nurse. Her blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail. She observed him through black, circular-rimmed glasses. 

He shook his head and repeated your name. The nurse frowned and he pointed to you. “Is this-” 

“Are you family?” 

“Brother.” 

You weren’t biologically related, but it felt true deep down. 

~ ~ ~ 

Changbin tried to bring the situation up to Chan, but every time he spoke your name, Chan would shut down. From what Changbin knew, Chan didn’t know what happened to you. The rest of the guys did, but they all received the same results. Every time they spoke your name, Chan grew irritated and short-tempered. 

“I don’t want to talk about them! Stop bringing them up! Enough!” 

The charming and charismatic leader unraveled at the seams. His heart was full of love for you and you ruined it. That wasn’t something he took lightly. The hurt oozed out in other ways. 

His songs weren’t coming together as easily anymore. He used to get your feedback when he went home, but now the apartment was empty. The bed was colder without you. He was lonely, but he wouldn’t admit it. 

He snapped during dance practice. After he snapped at a manager, a manager lectured him about authority and respecting his elders. Nobody understood the hurt that he was going through. It didn’t help that Dispatch began showing up and bothering him. 

They could take all the pictures they wanted. He’d never give them the satisfaction of breaking his heart. Instead of listening, he put on his airpods and cranked up the music. He shoved through the camera flashes with his baseball hat low and a face mask covering the rest of his face. They didn’t deserve to turn his heartbreak into entertainment. 

He’d never let them break him. They already did it once. You were gone and the longer you went without a call or a text, he assumed they were right. They caught you cheating and you accepted it. You didn’t fight for your relationship. 

You didn’t call and beg for him to take you back. You didn’t call and try to explain. He sent you one text, but you never opened it. He was at a complete loss without you. 

Some would call him stubborn for it, but he’d say that he was just trying to protect himself from more hurt. 

~ ~ ~ 

The lonely days for you didn’t stay lonely for long. Jeongin discovered you hours after your accident. The days slipped by, but you weren’t alone anymore. Unconscious and pumped full of medicine, sure. They were far from lonely. 

Every evening, the guys took turns hanging out beside your bed. Seungmin would sing the songs you liked. Jeongin told you funny stories of Chan, trying to bring you back to consciousness. Minho brought you warm comments from the fans who found out about your accident. The rest of the guys had their own things, but Chan’s voice never filled the room. 

Stuck in a coma, things were dark. Occasionally, you could hear the beeping of your machines. You could feel your lungs expand and compress unnaturally. Your body felt like a shell more than anything. Voices came and went, but never Chan’s. 

In the darkness, you couldn’t see. You weren’t sure if you were dead or not. Stranger’s voices appeared in soft whispers and then they faded. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew you were exhausted. 

Those audible voices and sounds never lasted for long. You couldn’t feel pain. Every sensation within you felt numbed. A heavy fog filled your head and something clouded your vision. 

You attempted to open your eyes every so often, but they didn’t budge. Someone glued them shut. Every limb tingled with tiny pins and needles. You didn’t know if this was death, but it didn’t feel comforting. Somewhere between the realm of the living and dead, doctors kept you in a medically induced coma. 

How else could they heal the swelling of your brain? ~ ~ ~  

“I can’t take this anymore!” Felix cried out. He shoved himself from the chair and pulled out his phone. “This is such bullshit! I’m tired of keeping this from him.”

“Well, we’ve tried. What do you propose we do? Tell him to get to the hospital without mentioning his significant other’s name?” Seungmin crossed his arms over his chest. “Good luck. We’ve tried everything and it’s been twenty-something days.” 

“Actually, that’s exactly what we should do. How much longer can this go on for? This is pathetic, even for him! I get that he’s hurt, but look at them!” He reached over and gestured towards your bed. 

You remained intubated and unmoving. The swelling in your puffy eyes faded a little more each day, but they still looked awful. The stitches in your lips disappeared, but a fresh pink scar remained. 

Swirls of purple and blue smeared along your face. Broken bones reset and were on the mend. You were a living miracle. The first responders were afraid you wouldn’t make it, but when they pulled you from the wreckage, you continued breathing. 

So he unlocked his phone and hit Chan’s contact name. 

“Hello?” 

“Chan?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You need to get to the hospital right now. Call me when you get here.” 

“WHAT?” 

“I can’t talk. Just call me when you get here.” 

“Felix!” 

He grimaced and hung up the phone. Seungmin shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You probably gave him a heart attack. He’s going to kill you when he gets here, you know?” 

“That’s a problem for later.” ~ ~ ~ 

Chan flew from his apartment. His heart pounded in his chest and he couldn’t breathe. Losing you was hard enough. If anything happened to a member of his group, he’d never forgive himself. 

“Come on, come on!” He fumbled with his seat belt in one hand. With the other, he swung his car door shut. In seconds, he jerked the car in reverse and slammed the pedal. 

He lurched down the driveway, spun the wheel with a rubbered squeal, and shifted the car into drive. The engine roared and he sped down the road. 

What-ifs grew stronger on the way to the hospital. His breath caught in his throat and he struggled to stay calm. Last he knew, everyone was fine so what happened? Who? How bad was it? 

The moment he parked, he whipped out his phone and dialed Felix’s number. When Felix responded, his voice came out frantic. “I’m here! Where are you?” 

“Room one-twelve. I’ll meet you half-way. I’ll see you soon.” 

“Wait, who is-” 

Click. 

“Fucking hell!” He cried out. He grabbed the keys, sped from the car, and rushed towards the automatic door. 

Everything was a blur inside. Voices appeared from the waiting room. The receptionist glanced over the front desk and eyed him, but she didn’t stop him. He glanced left and right and opted to go left. 

The carpet disappeared beneath his feet and turned into squeaky clean white vinyl. An easy material to clean and disinfect daily. He rushed forward when he saw Felix appear down the edge of the hall. 

The squeak of his shoes didn’t matter. He ignored the doctor he passed that told him to stop running. By the time he reached Felix, he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. “Who is it? What happened? Tell me!” 

“Just, come on.” 

“Felix!” 

Felix didn’t budge. He grabbed Chan’s wrist and pulled him along. His chest filled with anxiety and his lungs compressed. When the pair appeared at the right door, Felix dropped his wrist and slowly pushed the door open. 

He expected to find Han or Jeongin. A broken and battered Hyunjin or Changbin hooked to oxygen. This was the intensive care unit. This was for the severe cases. The patients that required a close eye and keen detailing. 

Upon seeing you, his face fell. The bruising upon your face. The tube down your throat. Your lifeless skin and unmoving limbs. There was no sign of the life the two of you created. 

No reassuring smiles, or laughter. Seungmin sat solemnly beside your bed in a chair. “I’m shocked that you finally made it.” 

“What the hell happened?” He hurried to the opposite side of your bed. His hand reached out, but he didn’t touch you. Too frightened by your state, he didn’t know where he could touch without causing you pain. 

“Try their hand,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up. He whirled around to find a nurse in blue scrubs. “Their hands survived the crash. You can touch their hands if you wish.” 

“Sorry, I came in to get some vitals. It’ll only be a few moments and then I can leave you alone. Visiting hours are open until eleven o’clock tonight. I’ve never seen you here before, so I thought you should know.” 

“How long have they been like this?” He whispered. Tears filled his eyes and his heart ached. 

“Since the night you told them to leave your apartment.” 

“What?” 

“Felix!” Seungmin’s voice shot out sternly. “It’s not like that, Chan. Yes, the accident happened that night, but don’t beat yourself up over it. A driver of a semi-truck was speeding and couldn’t stop in time.” 

“That was nearly a-” 

“I’m sorry, hyung.” Felix’s hand appeared on his shoulder. “We tried to tell you, but every time we tried to utter their name, you were angry. We should have found a better way to tell you, but…” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say. 

The nurse grabbed your vitals and disappeared to give the guys time with you. Chan collapsed to his knees and grabbed your hand with both of his. For nearly a month, you’d been stuck in this bed. He thought you’d given up on the relationship with him. 

This entire time you haven't texted him back. Not because you were angry. Not because you were sad. Not because Dispatch’s rumors were true. But it was because you physically couldn’t. Intubated and trapped in a medically induced coma, you couldn’t reach out, even if you wanted to. 

“I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry, I-I thought that they-” 

“Easy, hyung.” 

“What did I do? What the fuck did I do? If I wouldn’t have kicked them out of the apartment, this wouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have been so angry. I should have let them explain.” 

Seungmin shot Felix a look. He shrugged and gently rubbed Chan’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Channie. You were hurting and you didn’t mean for this to happen.” 

He was supposed to be the leader. A strong pillar and an even stronger influence on his younger members. As the eldest member, he was supposed to be reliable. At that moment, he crumbled. Tears appeared in his eyes as a sob broke from his chest. 

No wonder you had been so quiet. He called you once and hit your voicemail. He longed to hit the call button, just so he could hear your voice again. He squeezed your hand tighter and pressed it against his cheek. 

“Wake up. Wake up, baby, please! Come back to me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I'm so sorry!” 

Tears blurred his vision. He struggled to comprehend your mangled face. Your other hand sat wrapped in a cast. You must have been so broken when you arrived here. He wasn’t here to comfort you. He wasn’t here to try and console and cheer you up. 

A wheeze fell from his throat. The betrayal slicing through his heart disappeared. This time, he felt like he was the one that had betrayed you. He hurt you in the most unimaginable way possible. 

You laid here broken and half-dead. You spent hours fighting for your life alone. And where was he? Walking around your shared apartment drowning in his own self-pity. He’d never forgive himself for this. 

“What is this?” He finally whispered after his sobs faded away. His throat was raw. His voice came out scratchy. “How bad is it?” 

“The doctor said they should wake up at any time. They weren’t breathing on their own. A medically induced coma ensured to make sure their brain’s swelling could stop.” 

“It was that bad? They’ve been suffering through all that alone?” His bottom lip quivered. He grew afraid of the response he’d receive. 

“No,” Seungmin spoke up. “Jeongin found out first. He was the one that notified us. He said he tried to tell you, but when he showed up at your apartment, you told him to leave.” 

Horror filled Chan at the memory. Later that same night, back when you left, Jeongin appeared on his front porch pale. Instead of hearing out the younger member, he told him to get lost and slammed the door in his face. Deep down, he was afraid to be viewed as weak in front of the younger member. 

The memory stung his heart. Poor Jeongin just wanted him to know the truth and he slammed the door in his face. No wonder Jeongin seemed so nervous around him. He was probably worried that Chan would find out the truth and yell at him for not telling him. 

He rubbed his face and pawed at his eyes. “So does everyone know?” 

“Everyone besides you.” 

“Sorry you’re late. None of us knew how to get you here. You’d never listen when we tried to talk about them.” 

“I was such a stupid, selfish asshole.” 

“You were hurting,” Felix corrected him. 

“And a stupid, selfish asshole.” 

“You were.” 

“Seungmin!” Felix cried. 

“No, I want him to know that he was. I’m not going to sit here and pity him. You were a jerk, Chan. I hope you remember this moment whenever you try to act like an asshole again.” 

The words were a slap in the face, and yet he wanted to laugh. As harsh as Seungmin’s words were, they rang true. He was a jerk and maybe, in the cruelest way possible, this was his karma. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but paused when your fingernails scratched at his hand. The tube in your throat caused you to choke. You couldn’t fully see as your eyes half-opened. Still swollen, your vision remained limited. Silhouettes appeared and voices became more distinct. 

“Get a nurse!” 

Footsteps hit the ground. You gargled and reached your opened mouth. “No, no, no! You can’t touch that yet.” 

“Easy, love. Try to relax and don’t fight the tube. It’s breathing for you right now.” 

The distress and quickened-pace of the heart rate monitor hit a hiccup. Chan’s familiar voice grounded you, but you still struggled with the tube. Your lungs wanted to expand, but the machine compressed them. You choked again, still fighting the pesky thing. 

More footsteps. Another silhouette. Glasses on an unfamiliar face and latex rubbing against your skin. “It’s okay, you’re safe. I’m going to take this out now, okay? On the count of three. One, two, three!” 

You gasped and coughed at the removal. Your lungs filled with air of your own accord. More coughing. You attempted to swallow, but your mouth was so dry. The lingering phantom of a headache filled the side of your head. 

“Try a sip of this, sweetheart.” 

The nurse’s tone was honey to your ears. You swallowed the water the moment it hit your lips. One swallow and then another. Two more and suddenly, you were gulping like crazy. 

“Easy, or you’ll choke,” Chan gently reminded you. 

The nurse pulled the glass away when you finished. “Do you know where you are?” 

“Hospital?” 

“Do you remember your name?” 

“Chan?” 

“I’m right here, honey. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Do you remember your name? This nice nurse wants to help you get better. Your doctor is on his way.” 

Every question asked, you answered it perfectly. A buzz of excitement swirled around the room from your consciousness. Seungmin and Felix left the room to give everyone the good news. 

When the doctor concluded you were stable, he disappeared with the nurse. A silence fell between you and Chan. You still couldn’t see perfectly, but you could feel the weight of his hand in yours. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry for that night.” 

“I don’t want to talk about that night.” 

“I was an idiot.” 

“Dumbass,” you weakly corrected him. 

“I see getting hit by a semi-truck hasn’t taken away your sass.” 

“If I can survive this, I can survive anything.” 

“I love you and I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, I love you and I don’t want to hear anything else about that. I’m so tired. Can you sing me to sleep or something?” 

“If I do, promise you won’t die?” 

“I promise.” 

Even if you couldn’t make out his face, you knew his voice, and that was good enough for you. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids @velvetmoonlght

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls.

Part Five

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his cousins bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

In the early morning, just before the sunlight came in through the balcony, sultry jazz titillated her ears. The AC was cranked to combat the humid climate, and the smell of fresh linen mixed with Shisha tobacco and intense Bourbon Vanilla tickled her nose pleasantly. There's never a dull moment in this Crescent City.

Aaliyah shivered with arousal when Professor Richmond’s long arm circled her waist from behind and pulled her into him. Her plush cheeks collided with his dick that was so hard it reminded her of a metal bat. Her eyes widened a fraction and her soft lips parted, releasing a little breath of arousal. Terry’s warm breath ghosted across the back of her neck. Suddenly, his lush lips grazed the skin of her neck and he started peppering feather–like kisses on her skin.

“Can’t sleep.” Terry whispered.

“Neither can I,” Aaliyah tilted her head back, blinking her siren eyes at him, “All of you is awake.”

Terry chuckled against her bare shoulder. He nuzzled his nose there to inhale her scent.

“Your own fault, mon amour…”

“I’m happy to know that I turn you on…”

Terry raised his head behind Aaliyah to peer down at her. She shifted her body slightly, the white linen soft as it grazed her stiffened nipples. They stared at each other unblinking, too caught up in the moment of being together in such a way. Aaliyah hadn’t imagined it would get this far. She’d teased him, enjoying the push and pull, but never had she expected to end up in bed with him.

And fucked by him.

She was still on cloud nine about their phone sex and that was days ago.

“I bet you are. Now, you belong to me…”

Terry stroked Aaliyah’s cheek with his thumb.

“…And only me.”

“Quite possessive, Professor don’t you think?”

The soft spoken words was something akin to an angel whispering. A harmonic voice so sweet yet so powerful.

“Let’s not do that, Aaliyah. You’ve been on my mind the moment I laid eyes on you. And although you turned me down for that lunch, I would have tried again and again to have you.”

Aaliyah rotated her head away from Terry’s penetrating stare and handsome smirk, suddenly bashful beneath him as he hovered above her. How was it possible to feel the sweltering heat of desire wafting from him? It set off an inferno that she could feel throughout. From her scalp to the soles of her feet. Intensely.

He was a man of his word no doubt. That pleased Aaliyah and made her nervous all at once.

No man has ever made her nervous.

“Look at me…”

Aaliyah leisurely turned her gaze back to him. He sat up on his elbow above her, his biceps flexing beneath the golden glow of the wall sconces with a brass finish. The king sized bed with a black velvet wall panel headboard hadn’t been broken in enough. Terry gave her a silent look that told her without words that he needed her body again.

Terry stroked some of her soft, sleek hair from her face, the strands brushing her shoulder and fanning out against the pillow beneath her. With one hand, he cradled the back of her neck, and with the other he traced the curves along Aaliyah’s lips before tilting down to capture those succulent lips of hers. His tongue swept across her bottom lip, urging for entry. Aaliyah opened for him, her eager tongue gliding over his in a slippery tango. Their heads swiveled back and forth. Terry had a hazy look in his oceanic eyes.

Her pliant legs circled his waist and Terry pressed his stiffness against her soaked lower lips. The mixed heat radiating from between their legs caused Aaliyah’s clit to ache for him. Terry’s dick pulsated like a heartbeat from the softness of her pussy and the slick coating his veiny shaft. The soles of her feet brushed against his sides. Terry’s tongue delved deeper, almost dislocating his jaw. Aaliyah hissed when one of his large hands wrapped around her neck.

She broke their kiss, Terry colliding with her jaw. Aaliyah swayed her head against the restraint, nibbling on her bottom lip from the sensation of his teeth grazing her skin and his tongue tickling her neck. The warm breath from his lips made her squirm and sigh. She was an assertive woman who spent her nights as a cam girl telling men what to do. It was time she got broken down and gave her body over to someone else for a change.

Long fingers appeared between her legs. Terry raised his head above her exquisite face, looking down on her with blazing eyes so caught up in lust for her. His lush lips parted a fraction, giving her a view of his pink tongue and porcelain teeth. Her nipples looked like chocolate–covered gum drops the way they poked out so stiffly. Goosebumps decorated her skin that reminded him of a caramel delight. Whenever Aaliyah became aroused and flustered, the tip of her nose and the tops of her cheeks would deepen in color.

Glossy brown eyes tried to focus on his face but her lids were disobeying her. Terry studied her face like she was the most beautiful art piece he’d ever seen. He shifted his body to rest beside her, propping his body up on his elbow while his free hand played between her legs. Aaliyah spread herself for him, pink pussy glistening.

Terry studied the shape of her pretty pussy, taking note of how her outer lips and inner lips were relatively the same size. Her clit to labia created a wishbone shape and instead of its usual bright pink it resembled more of a coral pink from how aroused she is. He stroked between her inner folds with a single finger, and each time his finger would swipe over her clit, Aaliyah’s hips would jerk in response.

“Mind if I take my time and play in this pretty pussy?”

Aaliyah resulted to shaking her head. Words were lost to her. His manicured fingers felt too good and skillful. His smooth baritone in her ear sent shivers throughout her body. Terry propped up one leg, the movement causing his fully extended and solid dick to bounce. Aaliyah stared at his stick with a stunned expression. Heavy balls acted as a pedestal to keep that heavy dick poked out. The glow of the lights highlighted the veins along his girth and the drizzle of pre cum on his fat tip.

“You’re so hard right now,” Aaliyah whispered with astonishment.

Terry’s mesmerizing eyes dropped down to look at her. He pushed two fingers deep—middle and ring finger—all the way down past his knuckles. Aaliyah sucked in a breath, locking eyes with him. Terry didn’t waste time reaching depths between her walls. A creamy essence coated his long fingers and the sound of his passionate stirring was on full max.

“Mm, you get so messy for me I love it,” Terry spoke softly against Aaliyah’s forehead, “Pussy responding how I want it to…wet and gushy…got my fingers moving in and out so easy…”

Aaliyah pinched and tugged on her nipples. She licked her lips with her jeweled tongue, her eyes focused between her legs.

“Sexy women,” Terry pecked her forehead, “Pussy feel good don’t it?”

“Yessss…”

“This what you deserve…you want me in this pussy all you gotta do is ask…let me know and I’ll make this pussy cum however you want me to…”

Aaliyah’s pussy clenched around his fingers as a reaction to his words. It did things to her knowing he would do whatever it takes to please her.

“…is this an open invitation to come to your office whenever I want you to make me cum?”

“Mhm,” Terry pushed deeper, “No panties…show up ready to cum…like the nasty little slut you are…”

Terry’s movements increased. The faster he went, the harder his palm collided with Aaliyah’s clit. It sounded like he was plunging into a body of water. He had Aaliyah’s pussy sounding like he was splashing in a puddle on a rainy day. Aaliyah released her nipples and Terry bowed down, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking hard.

Terry’s tip was weeping. Pre cum drizzling down the back of his shaft in a slimy trail. Terry popped his lips off of her nipple when the sensation of Aaliyah’s soft, delicate hand circled his thickness. The thick vein on the underside of his dick pulsated against her palm the more she twisted her fingers. She was right on his spot, just beneath his tip, her thumb brushing across him.

Terry pressed his thumb against Aaliyah’s clit as he finger fucked her. Her wrist went limp and she paused as her body seized up to prepare for eruption. He could see her stomach caving in repeatedly, her eyes watered, her toes flexed. Terry went back to sucking her nipples as he worked the muscles in his arm and hand to bring Aaliyah over the edge.

“Unh…unf…yes…uhhh…Professor!”

Aaliyah’s hips started lifting to meet his fingers. Sweet moans filled the air.

“Oh fuck!” She screeched.

Terry flicked his tongue on her left nipple and his fingers slowed down to a stop inside of her. A puddle of her cum stained the sheets. He gently pulled his fingers out, mouth agape when he noticed they were dripping. He brought them to his mouth, sucking slow.

“Taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a seductive lilt.

“So good, baby…I wanna taste more…”

“All for you to have, big daddy…”

“Big daddy? Is that right?”

Placing himself between her legs, Terry curled his arms around Aaliyah’s thighs. He adjusted himself to lay on his stomach, leaned forward, and ate her pussy like an exquisite meal he would never have again. He didn’t stay on her clit for too long, not wanting Aaliyah to cum so quickly. He wanted her to beg for release. The strength of his arms and the feeling of his muscles cutting into her thighs let her know that she had nowhere to run.

Terry’s tongue sank into her pussy and wiggled. Aaliyah yelped a few times when he licked her with precise flicks of his tongue. She couldn’t grind her hips against his tongue, all she could do was lay there on her back and moan his name while dragging her fingers through his short curls.

She lost the signal to her words when he thrust the thick muscle of his mouth inside of her. Letting it sit there for a moment, he felt tremors take over her body and she whimpered loudly. He groaned at the sound, taking delight in breaking her down to his will. She had denied him long enough. She teased him for far too long. Too many times he’d dreamt of doing this to Aaliyah. Stick his tongue so far up her pussy it almost touched her heart. Make this sexy woman cum on his tongue just because. Give her ass the greatest head she’d ever have in her fucking life.

“Don’t move again or I’ll stop.” Terry barked out.

The bass in his voice made her act right, and her body went limp. At that moment, he was just all mouth, tongue. Aaliyah sat up on her elbows, instantly locking eyes with him. She kept her legs open for him and when he leaned back to admire his work she couldn’t believe how soaked and engorged her pussy looked. Terry licked his lips in one swipe before going back in to slurp her up.

“Fuck, you want me to cum all in your mouth…please, can I cum in your mouth, Professor? Can your little slut cum all over your lips?”

Terry responded with precise sucks that had saliva bubbles gathering around his mouth. Aaliyah couldn’t recall EVER getting head like this. She didn’t know whether to cry or to moan. She settled for both. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and suddenly her inner thighs quaked out of her control.

“Mhm…mhm…”

He knew he was the shit. She didn’t even have to tell him. Aaliyah collapsed against the pillows and her thighs closed around Terry’s head as her second orgasm covered his face the more she suffocated him. She pushed at his forehead but he wouldn’t stop.

“Terry, oh my—”

He was spelling his name on that pussy with his tongue.

The way he forced her thighs open. It hurt so good the way he spread her wide to the point of dislocating her hips. His tongue flicked repeatedly over her fat clit and she couldn’t stop him because he made sure her legs remained wide and limber. He would peek up at her in between licks and Aaliyah would lock eyes with him and each time she tip toed closer and closer to yet another cum.

“Terrryyyyyyy…Unh….”

She wasn’t strong enough to close her legs. His tongue weaved a gluttonous pattern over her pussy until he was content. When he finally stopped, Aaliyah curled into a ball. Terry sat up on his knees with his dick in his hand and maybe it was her brain being foggy from her orgasm, but his dick looked bigger than usual.

Terry didn’t even have to tell her what to do. Aaliyah sat up and crawled to him on weak knees. She arched her back and used her mouth only to wrap her lips around his tip. Terry popped Aaliyah on both cheeks with a delicious sting lingering. He finger-combed her long hair from her face and off to one side. Heavy breathing transitioned into deep grunts. Aaliyah sucked with no hands, jaws tight and eyes on him.

She counted the eight pack leading up to prominent pecs and a face that belonged in a museum. He was so pretty she couldn’t look away even if she tried. She did make use of one hand however. She had a handful of his heavy balls while her mouth worked magic. Terry smoothed his hands up her back and over her ass. His fingers sank into the meaty flesh and then he spread her open from behind. Aaliyah whimpered with his dick sitting at the back of her throat.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Terry spoke softly.

He grabbed her hair in his fist to keep her still while he fucked her throat. Spit left his dick glossy and her face and chest a mess.

“Aaliyah, relax your throat for me…”

She did as she was told. The feeling of him touching her uvula made her gag.

“If only you could see the way this dick fit in your mouth…”

One hand on the back of her head, thrusting into her mouth and whimpering the entire time. Aliyah’s tongue slid around his frenulum, making his tip tingle with pleasure. He continuously dripped pre cum and she cleaned it up with slow licks and those sultry eyes that he could get lost in staring up at him.

“Making that shit nasty.” Terry said.

“This dick belongs to me…all of this…”

Aaliyah played with it in her hand, squelching noises from how wet his dick was loud and clear. His balls sat nice and tight and Aaliyah bent forward to suck on those too. She pumped his fat dick while showing his balls some attention.

Terry’s tongue sat on his upper lip as he watched her. His brows snapped together when she returned to his dick with her eager sucking and slurping. He got in that mouth deeper, shivering when he could feel her teasing giggle around him like a vibration.

“Suck that dick…dassit…so sexy…so sexy, Aaliyah…baby…baby, you’re making me cum…shit is so good…fuck! Damn…damn…OH—”

Aaliyah started focusing on his tip and then she swallowed him whole. Terry cradled her head and bent forward, the repeated gawk–gawk of her mouth had him moaning and calling her all types of vulgar names. He felt his control snap and his cum shot from his tip in heavy droplets all over her tongue and chin.

Terry fisted himself to finish, leaning back on one hand while the other pumped the last bit of nut on her wiggling tongue. His knees were aching so he stretched them out before falling back against the sheets. Sweat clung to his skin and his dick sat over his belly button. Aaliyah snuggled closer to him and instantly sleep overtook them.

————

Sit on that dick

Sit-sit on that dick

Sit-sit on that dick, sit on that dick

Sit on that, sit on that, sit on that, sit on that (Alright, Slash)

Beyond their balcony in the early afternoon, the blare of fast-paced, energetic, and call-and-response style hip hop was jarring. It shook the windows and caused Aaliyah to stir awake. She reached one arm over instinctively, and felt nothing but a vacant space and crumbled sheets. She blinked her eyes open, the hotel room with an old world elegance and modern sophistication surrounding her. Wine red, black, and antique accents decorated the king suite.

Her body felt like she’d been put through the most intense workout of her life. Her muscles spasmed whenever she moved. Her pussy was sore to the touch and her clit throbbed. Love bites and bruises on her hips mingled with the beautiful path of stretch marks etched into her skin. She’d never been fucked within an inch of her life before. She’d never known that seeing stars behind her lids when she reached climax would actually happen to her. Sure, a toy can get you there. Yeah, she could recall an eater or two from her past that lacked in the dick department but made up for it with her cum dripping from their insatiable lips.

Terry was on another level. This man quite literally stunned her. He’s outrageously handsome. There’s no way he could be great in bed AND fine as hell. He can’t possibly have the best of both worlds. Yet, somehow, Aaliyah found her fairytale man. The man you dreamt up to deliver wet dreams. The ones in stories. No, Professor Richmond is the embodiment of every woman’s dream. And he wanted Aaliyah all to himself.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been in bed staring up at the ceiling just thinking about him and playing in her hair all sprung until the sound of footsteps entering the room from the hall had her sitting up in bed. Terry caught her eye with a smirk. He was drenched in sweat, an all white T-shirt with the letters CORE UFC GYM on the front in bold font. He was so soaked that the T-shirt molded against his abs and pecs like fresh plaster. He paired it with black shorts that hugged his thighs and accentuated his quads and glutes. Terry removed his AirPods from his ears and kicked off his sneakers at the door.

“Afternoon, baby. Went for a little workout…”

Aaliyah smoothed out her hair and tried to look presentable. It only caused Terry to chuckle.

“You look absolutely beautiful.”

Terry went in for a kiss, his musky scent spicy in her nose. It was pleasant, but Aaliyah backed away before Terry could even savor a kiss.

“What? Do I stink?”

“No, I didn’t brush my teeth.” Aaliyah replied with a sheepish laugh.

“So?”

Aaliyah climbed out of bed, naked body on full display. Terry watched her pin her hair up with a claw clip and then the sway of her hips as she made her way towards the bathroom. He gave her some space to do what she needed to do while he undressed. The cool air from the room made his skin feel clammy because of the sweat. He tossed his things in a bag before checking his phone.

Nothing special, just emails regarding work and a few texts from his mother letting him know they would be in town soon for the wedding. He texted her back quickly before placing his phone on the charger and making his way towards the bathroom. When he entered, Aaliyah was turning on the shower. It was a standing shower with black tiles and a detachable shower head. It was wide enough to fit both of them comfortably. On the sink, she had her own soap and so did Terry.

“Mind if I join you?” Terry asked as he cracked the door so it wouldn’t get too steamy.

“Not at all. Figured you’d want to anyway.”

Aaliyah placed a shower cap over her hair and entered the shower. Terry stepped in behind her, taking careful steps. He jumped back slightly from the temperature of the water. Aaliyah giggled and Terry sucked his teeth before reaching over her to turn the temperature of the water down.

“Tryna burn my skin off.” Terry fussed.

“Hush,” Aaliyah had an exfoliating cloth in hand and she applied unscented soap to it first, “Wash me.”

“Please?” Terry snatched the rag and gave Aaliyah a teasing look with an arched brow.

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

She pouted her lips and Terry couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked.

“Aight, face me.”

Terry ran the cloth over her soft, blemish free skin in a circular motion. Aaliyah giggled when he brought the cloth over her ears. He locked eyes with her and then he couldn’t help but to lean in and peck the tip of her nose. He turned her around and tapped her on the booty for good measure.

“Just can’t help yourself.”

“Phat–phat on you and you expect me to behave?”

Aaliyah laughed, “I do, actually.”

“Says you? Baby ima feel up on this ass whenever I want.”

He dragged the cloth down the dip in her spine and over both hefty cheeks. He cleaned throughly, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t do it on purpose. Terry had her cakes jiggling when he washed her off in between. Aaliyah gasped, reaching back to grab his wrist.

“You play too much!”

Terry laughed and it was the most pleasant sound. He smiled with his entire face, making his nose scrunch up. He had the goofiest laugh and it made Aaliyah smile from ear to ear. He gave her a second cleanse with a vanilla bean body wash, the smell permeating the air and it was strong and fragrant.

Terry rinsed the rag and applied some wash for her pussy. Aaliyah watched him reach around from behind and gently scrub her outer lips. Aaliyah tilted her hips back, pressing her butt into his crotch and she grabbed onto his bicep. Terry watched his movements from over her shoulder. When he was satisfied, he rinsed the rag and hung it on the railing of the glass shower door before using his hand to gather water in between her lower lips.

“You ain’t slick.”

“Who said I was being slick?”

Terry’s fingers rubbed slow circles against her clit. Aaliyah responded to his massage with a soft moan. Terry peppered kisses along her wet neck and even licked her there, the smell of vanilla filling his nose.

“It don’t make no gahdamn sense how fucking fine you are…”

He pushed two fingers up in her and Aaliyah rose to her tip toes. Terry is a strong man, he could probably lift her up between her legs with one arm and toss her on his shoulder. She wondered how much weight he could squat and bench press. Aaliyah made a mental note to go to the gym with Terry sometime just so she could see for herself.

“You hear me?”

“Yes,” Aaliyah replied barely above a whisper.

She could feel his big dick twitching against her ass.

“Wet ass pussy…ain’t been in this pussy with my fingers for that long and already you’re soaked…good fuckin’ girl…”

Aaliyah tilted her head back and Terry sucked her bottom lip into his mouth before their tongues slithered. She whimpered against his lips and Terry had to circle her trim waist with his muscular arm to keep her still.

“Aaliyah…”

The way he said her name against her lips. She could have melted. He was so head over heels for her.

“You can’t get enough of me,” Aaliyah spoke against his lips, “I drive you crazy.”

She reached back and captured his hefty dick between her fingers and started stroking. Terry abruptly turned her around with his fingers still inside. Aaliyah used both hands to jerk him while they tongue kissed.

“I ain’t been this pussy whipped ever.”

Aaliyah broke this kiss and pressed her face against Terry’s chest, laughing. He laughed along with her.

“That’s what I want. I want you to be so far gone over all of me, big daddy…”

Terry’s dick responded with quick pulses in her hand and a leaky tip. She gripped his fingers tight and when he curled them to stimulate her spot, Aaliyah could feel her stomach tighten. She was going to cum.

“That pussy cumming, huh?…what you want?”

Aaliyah nibbled on Terry’s chest between moans. He reached around and popped her on the ass. She flinched against him.

“Please, make me cum, big daddy…”

Terry held her close as the feeling became too strong and intense. She had a vice grip on his fingers and she threw her head back, exposing her neck for him to attack with his lips. Her body trembled and eventually she went limp against him. He painted her face with kisses until she was back to herself.

“You have a lot of skill, Sir.”

She had a sleepy look in her eyes. One hand on his dick, she lazily stroked him.

“I aim to please…”

Terry reached for his own cloth and handed it to Aaliyah. She looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but to laugh. She snatched it from his hand and Aaliyah washed Terry down once with Dove sensitive skin soap. She squeezed soap over his chest, watching the suds and the water slide down and over the peaks and valleys of his well–muscled body. She craned her neck to meet his gaze, the cloth in her hand giving his skin the perfect touch. He couldn’t help but to smirk at her.

When she got to his dick—which she saved for last—Aaliyah dropped the cloth over it and broke out in a laughing fit. He was so stiff. Terry shook his head at her silliness before removing the cloth and handing it back to her. Aaliyah grabbed his Salt & Stone body wash with notes of Sandalwood, Cedar, Vetiver, and Cardamom. She repeated her steps and when she got back to his dick, she stood behind him and wrapped a hand around him.

Terry planted his hands against the shower wall beneath the shower head. The water cascaded down his back and over his shoulders and hair. Aaliyah looked like a little person compared to him. She kissed his spine while her hand worked magic. With a twist of her wrist she would go from base to tip. She cupped his balls in her other hand and rolled them gently.

“This a lot of dick,” Aaliyah spoke with a seductive voice, “And all of this is mine? Hm?”

“Fuck, yes,” Terry raised his head, water rolling down his face, “All yours…”

“All mine to suck on?”

Aaliyah squeezed his balls with enough pressure to make his dick bounce in her hand.

“Yes, baby…”

“And to fuck?”

Aaliyah kissed his lat muscles with tender lips that made his hips jerk.

“Fuck on this dick, baby…”

He sounded so sexy. Aaliyah could feel her clit aching from his deep groans.

“I plan to…as soon as we get out this shower…”

Aaliyah let go of his balls and slapped the weight of his dick in her hand. Terry’s back muscles flexed.

“Yeah…nice and hard for me to bounce on…”

“You’re so nasty…” Terry spoke with a quiver in his voice.

She let go of his dick and watched as it swung from side to side. Her pussy was literally convulsing just thinking about him deep inside of her again. Aaliyah left Terry to wash his face and he gave her a look that told her he wasn’t happy about her stopping. He needed her and she couldn’t wait to give her pussy over to him again. She grabbed her towel to do a quick dry but Terry was out the shower and behind her so fast.

“Terry—”

“Shut the fuck up and bend over.”

Aaliyah’s back stiffened at his abrasive voice. She grabbed onto the double sink and stared straight ahead into the slightly foggy glass. Terry bent her over and brought one of her legs up to rest on the sink. He pushed down on the middle of her back hard and snatched off her shower cap. He spread one cheek and with his tip aimed at her wet hole he thrusted up in one motion.

“Terry, what the fuck?!”

Aaliyah felt as if she’d been split open. He grabbed her upper arms with firm hands and drilled her with harsh blows that had her ass moving like a tidal wave and her hair in her face. She reached one hand up and it slid down the mirror, the condensation dripping. She could see his face. Jaw tight. Eyes on her. Chin tucked. Lip between his teeth. Terry let go of her arms and grabbed her waist. He widened his stance and dug in her so deep her eyes crossed.

“Bet you feel that in your gut. Mhm. This how I’m fuckin’ my pussy. Right?!”

“YEAH!” Aaliyah shouted.

“Tugging on my shit,” Terry watched the way Aaliyah’s pussy yanked on him each time he pulled back to the tip, “Gawd…pussy so good…”

Aaliyah’s face fell into the bowl of one of the sinks. Her lips formed a silent ‘O’ and her eyes shut tightly.

“Aaliyah don’t piss me off.”

She couldn’t keep her leg up. And Terry wasn’t having it.

“Aight,” he withdrew his hips and picked Aaliyah up. He sat her on the edge of the sink and positioned her legs over his shoulders while his hands cuffed her ass to keep her steady and on that dick. He locked eyes with her and slipped back inside like he never left. She clawed his chest, grabbed onto the sink, gripped his arms, put a hand around his neck. Nothing stopped him from putting a hurting so good on her pussy.

“Shit! Oh noooo!” She watched his dick go in and out as if she were petrified by how fat and long he is, “I’m a cum! It’s so big! Terry! FUCK! Oh my god…ohh…”

Terry held his face against her neck and pulled her into a tight hug. His hips collided with her thighs with sharp thrusts. Aaliyah circled her arms around his neck and cried into his ear. Her toes curled under and Terry had to pick her up in the air when she almost slipped. Their shared breaths of over exertion echoed off of the bathroom walls. Terry’s entire body burned. He walked with Aaliyah in his arms and his dick buried deep, leaving the bathroom and entering the room again.

Terry placed Aaliyah on her back and continued fucking the shit out of her. Her perky breasts were pointed towards his face and he couldn’t help but suck her nipples in turn.

“Fuuuck,” Aaliyah moaned.

He used her flexibility against her and spread her legs all the way up to where his hands were locking her ankles in place. He dropped down at a measured speed into her pussy with an intense look on his face and deep grunts. A creamy ring formed at the base of his dick and it got so messy that his dick would slip out. He slapped her clit with it and plunged back in.

“You see this? Look at how I’m fucking you, Aaliyah.”

She watched with shiny eyes. Terry delivered quick thrusts before slowing back down. Aaliyah looked up at him and he looked at her with a smirk on his face.

“It’s so much dick…”

“I’m giving you what’s yours. I thought you loved big dick?”

Aaliyah pushed at Terry’s abs. He slapped her hand away.

“You know you wanna squirt on me.” Terry teased.

Aaliyah circled her belly with her arms to fight the feeling that formed in the pit of her stomach. Tears rolled down into her hair and Terry bent down to kiss her lips.

“Cum, baby…just like that…uh-huh,” Terry spoke against her lips, “Come on, my pretty Aaliyah…give daddy all that…that’s my girl…right there…”

Aaliyah sprung a leak. And Terry fucked her through it. He sat back on his knees to admire his work. Her inner thighs were soaked. She drenched his abs. Cream coated her inner folds and leaked to the crack of her ass.

Terry got down and licked her clean.

“Daddy, you didn’t cum yet…”

Terry looked up at her.

“What should we do about that, huh?”

Aaliyah smiled at him.

“Get up here.” She commanded.

Terry made his way onto the bed and on his back. Aaliyah straddled him. She leaned forward and with her eyes connected with his, she fit him inside of her and slowly lowered until he completely fit. Feet flat on the bed, Aaliyah bounced. Terry had a handful of titties as he watched her. Her hair had curled up around the edges, giving her a wilder look.

“Look at you go,” Terry thumbed her clit, “Show me who this dick belong to.”

Aaliyah trapped Terry’s hand to stop him from rubbing her clit. He chuckled, prying her thighs open.

“I don’t see you getting down on this dick. All the way down, Aaliyah.”

She paused, sinking to her knees and arching her back. Aaliyah resumed bouncing, looking back at her ass.

“Ride me. Ride Daddy,” Terry barked, “Fuck yourself on Daddy’s dick. Lemme slut yo’ pretty ass out. I’m a take care of that pussy real good. Anytime, baby.”

Terry slapped the hell out of Aaliyah’s ass. It jiggled with so much force from his large palm. She just knew he left a hand print.

Aaliyah dropped that pussy on him. She leaned forward and rode his thickness like she was bucking on a mechanical bull. Terry whimpered from her pussy clenching and releasing him as she rocked. Her thick cheeks clapped against his thighs and slammed down on his balls. And all he could do was give her ass a pop. His grunts and groans and heavy moans continued the more she fucked him.

“Aaliyah, FUCK…”

She wrapped a small hand around his neck and threw her head back.

“I feel you…inside me…harder…”

Terry couldn’t hold back any longer. He fucked up as Aaliyah came down. His heels dug into the bed, trying his hardest to give her a deep dick down. She bounced with speedy delight, smiling down at Terry between moans.

“YES! Yesyesyesyesyesyes!”

Aaliyah rode his ass through the mattress and Terry planted his hands on her hips.

“I’m finna nut—”

“Cum for me, Big Daddy! All in your pussy!”

“Dammit, Aaliyah—”

Terry came with a hoarse shout and Aaliyah giggled with glee. His dick remained hard after his orgasm. Aaliyah pressed her body against his and raked her hand down his chest while whispering nasty things in his ear.

“You cum so much…I love the way you fill my pussy up.”

Terry sat up and kissed Aaliyah with her in his lap and his dick still inside. Their tongues made a happy dance deep in each other’s mouths. Terry palmed her ass, not ashamed to let her know that he loved it. He was weak for a phat ass.

“I love the way your dick makes me cum…”

Terry smirked against her lips.

—————

After all the sex, Aaliyah and Terry freshened up again and made their way out onto Bourbon Street for lunch. They walked hand in hand, Aaliyah wearing a pair of denim shorts that fit tight and stretched over her ass as if they were painted on. She paired it with some mules with a low heel and a fitted T-shirt that she tied into a knot at the front. She sported a pair of retro shades in a gradient blue color and kept her hair pinned up with a claw clip. As they strolled, her heels click–clacking against the concrete, she swung her small, cyan Telfar bag that matched the floral design printed on the front of her shirt. Large, silver hoops decorated her ears and she kept it simple with a think, silver necklace and silver bangles.

Terry wore a faded, orange T-shirt with his old high school logo printed on the front. Light wash jeans with slight rips were on his lower half, and he pulled the look together with a pair of all white, Nike Air Max 90s. He wore a silver, micro cuban around his neck and a matching silver watch on his left wrist. He too wore shades, a pair of all black aviators.

They settled on Mambo’s, a festive oasis offering locals and visitors alike a re-energizing escape from the strip clubs, cover bands and daiquiri shops outside. Located in the heart of the French Quarter, the welcoming gravity of the towering three-story building invites you to explore what lies beyond its French doors.

A hostess led them to the very top of the building, seating them at a high top overlooking the open patio doors that led to a sunny outdoor eating sanctuary. The sun was shining too bright and the heat was too intense to sit directly beneath it. Zydeco music titillated their ears. Their waiter trickled over after five minutes with an upbeat personality and her hair styled in bright red box braids.

“How ya’ll doin? Welcome to Mambo’s. I’m Dasia. Can I start ya’ll off with sum to drank?”

Aaliyah turned to Dasia, “I’ll have a water with lemon and also…I’d like to try your passion punch.”

“It’s got Bumbu Rum, Don Q & Don Q Passion Fruit with fresh fruit juices. That okay?”

“I’m okay wit’ it.” Aaliyah replied.

“How ‘bout you?”

“A water with lemon as well. And I’ll do a draft beer…uhh…Abita Amber.”

“Okay…ready to order appetizers or ya’ll need a minute?”

“A minute.” Terry responded.

“I’ll be back wit’ ya drinks.”

Dasia walked away as Aaliyah flipped through the menu.

“I definitely want some oysters.”

“We can do that. Know what you wanna eat?”

“I was eyeing this blackened red fish…”

“That looks good,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a po’ boy. A shrimp one.”

Aaliyah crossed her legs beneath the table. Terry reached over to caress her knee. Aaliyah flashed him a smile and blew him a kiss.

“I have to figure out what I’m going to wear to the wedding.” Aaliyah mentioned, swinging a pretty foot beneath the table.

“Terry looked over at her through his lashes, “Need me to buy you something?”

“Maybe,” Aaliyah pushed her shades up to rest on top of her head, “What are the colors?”

“It’s Tiffany Blue.”

“Hmm…maybe I could do a blue dress? But not exactly the same color?”

“That’s a good idea. Would have to search today though.”

“It’s okay. I think I have a dress in mind. My closet is full of clothes for any occasion.”

Dasia returned with their drinks. Terry ordered oysters and decided to wait to order the entrees until they were finished.

“Your parents are coming in town?” Aaliyah asked.

“Yeah, they’ll be here the day before.”

Aaliyah sampled her drink. It was perfectly sweet. Terry sipped his beer, licking his lips after.

“Do you see them often?”

“Nah. Not as much as I would love to. I try to see them twice a year. We talk almost every day though. My dad has health issues, something with his heart. It’s a hereditary thing. My grand father passed away from cardiac failure.”

“Sorry to hear that. I’m sure that’s scary with it being hereditary.”

“It is. That’s why I keep myself healthy and visit my primary care and cardiologist as often as I can. I’m all good though.” Terry reassured.

“Anything you wanna warn me about before I meet them?”

Terry chuckled, “My parents would love you, Aaliyah. You ain’t got nothing to worry about.”

“…do they want grandchildren?”

Terry drank some of his beer down. He gave Aaliyah a one-shoulder shrug.

“They do. They don’t pressure me ‘bout it. One day.”

Aaliyah smiled softly at him.

“Let me try your drink,” Terry held out his hand for Aaliyah to pass her drink over.

She watched him sample her drink and his eye brows ticked up with excitement.

“Oh that’s good. Perfectly mixed. A couple more of those and you gon’ be tore up.”

“Sounds good. But I want shots.”

“Later,” Terry shook his head.

“Whyyyy?”

“Stop whining,” Terry leaned forward to pop Aaliyah on her hip, “You don’t need that right now. When I take you out to dance later you can have all the shots you want.”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes and lowered her shades over them. She stuck her tongue out at Terry and he tilted his head at her and curled a finger for her to come closer. Aaliyah leaned in, her ass poked out. If anyone walked by, they would be able to see how the denim fabric outlined the shape of her pussy from the back and how the edges dug into her legs sinfully.

Terry cupped her chin and got so close to her face their noses touched.

“No means no. Fix your face. This the only time I’ma tell you.” Terry warned.

He let go and Aaliyah took her time sitting back. The oysters arrived and she forgot all about Terry’s words when the smell of melted garlic butter wafted her nose. They both tucked into their food after ordering their entrees.

“It’s so quiet. That’s how you know we were starving.”

Terry gave Aaliyah a playful smile, “burned too many calories.” Terry’s shoulders bounced as he laughed.

“How am I supposed to keep up with you?!” Aaliyah whisper–yelled.

“Says the woman that can hit a split from the top of the pole to the floor.” Terry blew out air and rolled his eyes, calling her bluff.

“Shut up,” Aaliyah kicked him under the table.

She finished her drink off and swayed her hips to the music. Dasia sauntered over and offered to give her another drink. Aaliyah happily accepted.

“How much can you squat?”

Terry licked butter from his lips and flashed Aaliyah a handsome smile.

“Depends. If I’m being spotted, about four hundred. Alone? I can do about fifty pounds less.”

“Dayum,” Aaliyah giggled at how loud she said that, “no wonder why you like to pick me up so much.”

Terry’s eyes crinkled as he laughed.

“You somethin’ else, girl.”

“And you love it.” Aaliyah sassed with her light and flirty voice.

“I do.”

Terry reached beneath the table and brought Aaliyah’s feet in his lap. He stroked the tops of her feet while sipping his beer, never taking his eyes off of her.

“You’re so attentive it’s intense,” Aaliyah blinked away from his face when Dasia returned with another drink, letting them know that their food will be out shortly, “You gotta stop looking at me like that, it’s making me wet.” She whined.

Terry stroked his bottom lip with his thumb before biting it.

“Not with those ‘come fuck me’ eyes on you, ma.”

Aaliyah swirled her straw around her drink as she bat her lashes at Terry. The table rumbled from Aaliyah’s phone vibrating with an incoming notification, she grabbed her phone and flipped it over. Terry downed the last of his beer and placed the glass on the table, tapping his chest with the side of his fist after releasing a muffled burp.

“Excuse me…”

Aaliyah appeared bothered by whatever was on her phone. Terry furrowed his brows at her change of demeanor. He watched her exhale and her shoulders collapse.

“Everything okay?”

Aaliyah gave him a phony smile, “Yeah.”

“You look like you just got the worse news of your life.” Terry chuckled, despite his sudden worry for her, “Talk to me.”

Aaliyah seemed to veil her true emotions with yet another beautiful smile.

“Nothing! Just got a reminder about an upcoming exam I have yet to study for. This semester has been kicking my ass.”

From the way the corners of her mouth wrinkled as she reached for her drink, Terry knew that something troubled her. And it wasn’t anything to do with a curriculum.

“You’re almost there, baby. Before you know it, you’ll be a college graduate. Can’t wait to see you walk across the stage.”

She gave Terry a timid smile while swirling her ice around her glass with her straw, “I was ready to give up so many times. You don’t even know.”

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. It’s not about perfect, it’s about effort. You bring that effort every single day in my class and I’m sure in your other classes. That’s where transformation happens. You trusted yourself and now look.”

Aaliyah appeared delighted by Terry’s words and whatever previously attempted to anger her, suddenly disappeared.

“You’re so sweet, Terry. Where have you been all my life?”

“Maybe if I hadn’t moved to Fayetteville I’d still be here. I would have fallen for the majorette girl with the pretty smile and long hair.”

“And I still wouldn’t have made it easy for you.” Aaliyah teased.

“If you ain’t notice by now, I love a challenge.”

Her merry laugh made him laugh.

“Another Abita Amber?”

Terry handed over his empty beer glass and grabbed the new one, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Dasia. Before she could walk away, their food was on its way over on a serving tray. The spices wafted Aaliyah’s nose and her stomach instantly grumbled. Terry had a loaded po’ boy in front of him with perfected deep fried shrimp spilling over the top of the flaky sub roll. He squeezed it with his fingers, a satisfying crunch sound following. Aaliyah forked the flaky red fish and leaned in to smell the garlic mashed potatoes and collard greens.

Terry didn’t waste time eating. His mouth opened wide and he took a big bite out of his po’ boy, mayo painting the side of his lips. Aaliyah reached forward and thumbed away the mess on his face, sucking it off her thumb with a smirk. Terry chuckled at her with so much admiration in his greenish–hazel eyes. He shared some of his shrimp with her and Aaliyah fed him so collards. Two drinks in, and she was already feeling tipsy. She couldn’t help but giggle at anything Terry said.

“What’s funny now?” Terry questioned with an exasperated smile.

“Those big ears of yours.”

“HA,” Terry leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, “So, you got jokes?”

“They’re so cute. I love them.”

“That squeaky laugh you got, sounding like a chipmunk.” Terry quipped.

Aaliyah tossed a crumbled napkin at him that Terry caught in his hand.

“You know you love my laugh!”

“It’s music to my ears, mon amour.”

She beamed at him.

———

The spot they were going to wasn’t far from their hotel but Terry still wanted to drive just in case anything popped off. Aaliyah slid into the passenger seat and Terry shut the door behind her. She decided to wear the same stilettos from their romantic dinner date and she paired it with a skin tight, body con dress that left nothing to the imagination with its sheer, glittery material. Terry had to help her into the dress. Aaliyah painted her lips fire engine red and her hair fell over her shoulders and to the middle of her back. She touched up her edges and added a little pomade to ensure she didn’t sweat them out.

Terry was dressed in a cream colored polo with sleeves that fit snugly around his biceps. The first few buttons were undone, giving a peek at his gold, micro cuban link. He paired it with snug black slacks and black loafers. This random spot they decided on had a dress code of no sneakers, sandals, and athletic wear. Aaliyah had to do some social media digging to find the perfect spot that catered to black people and played black music.

Terry wanted a live band at first but Aaliyah insisted that she wanted to shake ass to trap music and pussy rap. Aaliyah needed some tissue to clean up a little lipstick. She opened Terry’s glove compartment and sitting right before her eyes like a beacon light was a Glock 19. Terry settled into the drivers seat and Aaliyah shut the glove compartment quickly.

Terry glanced over at her, before his eyes fell to the glove compartment. Aaliyah looked at him with a slight smile and nervous eyes. Terry reached over and opened the glove compartment, the pistol right where he’d left it.

“You needed something outta here?” Terry questioned.

“Just some tissue,” Aaliyah replied softly.

Terry shifted things around until he found a box of Kleenex. He handed it over to Aaliyah before tucking his pistol away so it wouldn’t be visible.

“Sorry ‘bout that, baby.”

“It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting to see that there.”

Terry started up his car while Aaliyah busied herself with making sure her makeup was perfect.

“If you feel uncomfortable with it there—”

“It’s okay, Terry,” Aaliyah glanced over at him with a laugh, “It’s actually kinda sexy.”

Terry elevated a brow and slowly his lips turned up into a smile.

“I bet you look sexy when you shoot.”

“Don’t boost my ego now,” Terry chuckled, “I could show you sometime? Take you to the range.”

“I always wanted to go.” Aaliyah replied with excitement.

“Then I’ll take you. It’s a date.”

“So, camping,” Aaliyah counted off on her fingers, “The gun range…”

“And many more.”

They locked eyes and Terry reached over to rest his hand on her thigh. He stroked it with his thumb.

“Almost there, about ten more minutes.”

Aaliyah grabbed Terry’s hand and slipped it between her legs. Good thing they were at a red light. He looked at her with a bite of his bottom lip. His fingers grazed bare pussy lips.

“Oh, you’re in trouble. You’re in trouble.”

Aaliyah giggled to herself. Terry was dead serious.

“This dress barely covers that ass and you decide to wear no panties? You serious?”

“I thought I was you nasty little slut?” Aaliyah replied with a bat of her lashes as she twirled hair around her finger with faux innocence.

“I’m a have to keep a close eye on you. Let some nigga find out you ain’t got nothing on up under there.”

“Isn’t that what makes it fun? And I’m yours, remember?”

Terry’s jaw clenched. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. He adjusted his hips in the seat and gave Aaliyah one penetrating look that shook her core.

“Be a brat if you want to, Aaliyah.”

Aaliyah spread her legs to show Terry just how good her pussy looked. He gave in and looked down between her legs. He huffed with a shake of his head.

“What was that about being a brat again?” Aaliyah replied with a teasing smile.

“Damn, that pussy look good…”

“Here,” Aaliyah touched herself and gathered some of her wetness on her fingertips, “You wanna taste?”

Eyes still on the rode, Aaliyah rubbed her pussy juice all over Terry’s lips. He grabbed her hand and sucked on her fingers. Aaliyah watched Terry lick his lips.

“That should hold you over until later. I plan to sit on that pretty face of yours.”

“And I’ll happily be your favorite seat for as long as I’m living and breathing, baby.” Terry responded with a hand to his chest and an enduring smile.

They finally pull up to the nightclub. Some spot tucked away beneath a tangled freeway and overlooking an outstretched parking lot. Cars, trucks, motorcycles; any form of transportation looked oddly placed in various spots with empty spaces in between. Terry reversed into a spot to the left of the entrance.

A lineup of club-goers waited to get inside. Some people lingered on the fringes or smoked whatever enhanced their vibes. Terry hopped out and made his way around to open Aaliyah’s door. He stood in front of her while she took her time raising from her seat since her dress had ridden up. Terry’s dour eyes never left her face. He held out his hand and before Aaliyah could walk away he gripped her hand tighter. Aaliyah watched as Terry checked her out from behind, ensuring that her dress covered her ass. She giggled at his fixed gaze and he popped her on the ass to silence her. Wasn’t shit funny.

Ubers and Lyfts dropping people off at the curb. Two Beefy bouncers checking IDs and turning people away, refusing to argue with them. Each time the doors opened, Strobe lights were pulsing from inside. Terry had a hand on Aaliyah’s waist as he guided her to the back of the line that grew smaller and smaller. Aaliyah’s stomach fluttered when Terry placed her directly in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist.

She peered up at him, a drastic height difference between them even with her heels. He caught her staring and gave her a furtive look with a soft smile. The stiffness of his shoulders and the snug hold he had on her let her know Terry was on go for anybody that so much as looked at her, breathed her air, or touched her.

That brought her back to the bachelor party. The way he almost broke that man’s wrist. The glint in his eyes. The unblinking stare and stolid expression. There was no doubt in Aaliyah’s mind that Terry could do damage. He didn’t play about her. She bounced in his arms, her booty cheeks clapping against his crotch to entice him. She could hear a bounce mix from inside the club.

The line pushed forward and when they made it to the front, Terry released Aaliyah so she could sift through her bag and grab her ID. They displayed it to the bouncers and then the pitch black door opened, a blazing heat billowing out along with the stench of hookah smoke and alcohol. They were ushered inside, Terry’s hand on her back as they disappeared beyond the doors.

Dim lighting.

Black speakers and a stage.

Bars with seating and an area of small round tables and stools.

Waitresses dressed skimpily with glowing trays of drinks or carrying empty bottles and glasses back to the bar.

A row of shot glasses being filled one by one.

Bartenders rushing to keep up with orders.

Bottles of alcohol lining a mirrored wall behind the bartender.

Bins with lemon and lime wedges, cherries, and other garnishes.

Multicolored straws, empty beer cans and bottles, sprayers and beer taps.

Sinks loaded with ice.

Carefully layered drinks in martini glasses.

Coffee mugs and highball glasses.

Spilled drinks on the floor and wet marks on the bar.

A line at the bathroom.

A dance floor packed like sardines and a DJ booth surrounded by men.

Birdman and Lil Wayne– Stuntin’ Like My Daddy had the whole place jumping off. The loud bass and booming speakers vibrated their inner ears as they cased out the spot to find seating. A drunk couple stumbled from a table shrouded in a faint magenta lighting from an overhead lamp. Terry ushered Aaliyah over quickly before anyone else. As they approached, a waitress covered in barely anything sauntered over to snatch up the used Hookah. She noticed Terry and Aaliyah approaching and gave them a smile before doing a quick and effective wipe of the table. Terry dipped his head as a ‘thank you’ before helping Aaliyah into her seat.

Terry settled across from her and leaned in to speak with her over the loud music.

“You want me to get you a drink?!”

“Please!” Aaliyah shouted back, “Two shots of chilled Patron and whatever else!”

“Aight,” Terry left his seat but before he disappeared into the sea of sweaty, dancing people, he gave Aaliyah a look and gestured for her to call him if anything pops off.

“I’ll be fine, Terry! I’ll be right here waiting!”

Terry walked off, gently pushing past people to get to the bar. Aaliyah swayed her hips in her seat, her legs looking shiny and glazed beneath the lights. The song switched up to Gucci Mane- On Deck and as Aaliyah watched the dance floor, she noticed a group of men strolling and throwing up hooks. An eruption of cheers drowned out the music the more they moved in sync.

Meanwhile, Terry was leaning against the bar, his hazel eyes searching. A young woman with sandy brown locs that touched her waist and an all black body con dress on that hugged her plush waist and wide hips made direct eye contact with Terry. She stepped around another bartender to get to him.

“How you doin’ tonight! What can I get you?”

“I’ll take four shots of patron! And uhhh…get me a lemon drop but with patron instead of vodka.”

“COMING UP!”

She winked at Terry before working on his drinks. Terry glanced over towards the table and all he could see was Aaliyah’s legs peeking out.

“Do you need help carrying these drinks?! We can bring it over!”

“Yeah, could you? We’re at that table over there,” Terry pointed out where they were seated, “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! I’ll have one of our girls bring it over!”

Terry gave her a thumbs up before paying cash for the drinks and leaving a tip. Turning, he started cutting through the sea of people until he felt a hand grip his arm. Terry turned and looked down into the eyes of a random chick that he damn sure didn’t know or recognize. Politely prying her hand off, he continued towards the table. Once there, he noticed a man trying to make conversation with Aaliyah.

“Hey,” Terry approached with charged energy, “Can I help you with something?”

The man stood at about 6’0 with an airbrushed hairline and a crudy ‘fro. Fake diamonds dangled from his neck, wrists, and fingers. He wore his skinny jeans below his ass and a graphic T-shirt with a classic rock band he most likely didn’t know a thing about was two sizes too small on him. He sized Terry up with the whites of his eyes red.

“This yours, Playa?”

Terry blinked at the man with a deadpan expression before tilting his head around to check on Aaliyah, a flare in his eyes.

“Did he say something to you?”

“He can’t catch a hint,” Aaliyah replied with furrowed brows.

He could see the tension in her body and the discomfort in her eyes. Terry straightened up and his eyes flicked down at the man, glaring at him. The man somehow began to understand the severity of his situation if he so much as sad another word out of line.

“Off limits, my fault bruh,” He brought his hands up in surrender, “Don’t want no trouble, Big Dude. You got a fine lady. I was just giving her a compliment.”

The man left like a fire had been lit under his feet. Terry’s hard, unwavering eyes tracked the movements of the man until he was nowhere in sight. Aaliyah grabbed him by the hand and stroked his skin. She smoothed her fingers over the protruding veins in his hand and up his arm. Terry finally pulled his gaze away and looked down at her.

“Sit. He’s gone.”

Terry moved leisurely until he settled across from Aaliyah. The same waitress that cleaned the table minutes prior came over to greet them and placed their drinks on the table.

“Thank you,” Terry slid two shots and a lemon drop over to Aaliyah, “Why didn’t you call my phone?”

“He had just shown up when you walked over, Terry.”

Aaliyah grabbed Terry’s hand and leaned forward. She blinked at him slowly while kissing his fingertips.

“Relax,” she brushed his fingers along her cheek and down her throat before fitting his fingers around it, “I’m yours…and you’re mine. I don’t want another man but you…another dick but yours…”

Even over the music loud enough to burst your tympanic membrane, Terry caught on to every word and gripped her neck a little tighter. He pressed his thumb against her pulse point, watching as Aaliyah’s sultry lips parted and a slight gasp echoed across the table.

“I love how crazy your eyes get when you’re ready to fuck a nigga up,” Aaliyah dropped her eyes to stare at Terry’s lips.

“Your fault, baby. I don’t play about you…”

Terry let go and his jaw clenched as he raised a shot glass to toast with Aaliyah. They clinked glasses, tapped it on the table, and drowned it in one gulp. Aaliyah grimaced and Terry’s face remained stern with probing eyes. Aaliyah pressed her lips together and clenched her inner thighs to suppress the throbbing sensation in her clit. She trained her eyes to stay locked on his even through the intensity. His prolonged gaze created a heat that tickled her flesh and the beginning effects of the alcohol didn’t help calm her arousal.

Aaliyah teased her red lips with the tip of her tongue before gliding it between her teeth to entice him. She flicked up a single brow suggestively, letting him know that she was enjoying their little game of staring at each other to see who would look away first. Terry sat back and folded his arms over his chest, his hands gripping his biceps on either side. He cocked his head to the left and his bottom lip slowly dragged between his teeth.

Feeling bold, Aaliyah brought her fingers to the top of her dress, gliding them over the top of her dress. Her girls sat up and a mountain of cleavage teased him. Terry’s eyes slanted, a sign that he was turned on. Aaliyah giggled at his lack of control before revealing her left breast. She glanced around quickly before her eyes were back on him, pinching her stiff nipple before covering herself back up again.

Aaliyah snickered at Terry being slack-jawed.

“I win,” Aaliyah bounced in her seat with glee before bringing her lemon drop to her lips, “Better luck next time, huh?”

Terry gave Aaliyah a debonair smile, “You don’t play fair at all.”

Haha, bitch, I’m big dude

Phew, phew, phew, frrrt

Haha, phew, phew, phew, bitch, I’m big dude…

Terry chuckled at Aaliyah throwing her hands up and giving her seat some attention with that beautiful ass of hers. She moved her hips in a circle and stuck her tongue out. Terry listened to this song often in the gym. The vulgar Memphis Rapper with his cocky lyrics and a nasty beat had the walls rattling. It was banging hardcore and Terry couldn’t help but make his shoulders jump and sway his head in time to the beat.

“Let’s dance!”

Aaliyah was out of her seat and between Terry’s legs in an instant. She spun around and arched her back, plopped down on his lap and rocked her barely covered ass on his crotch. Terry shifted his body to face her from behind and he gripped her hips as he stood. Terry surged his crotch against Aaliyah’s ass with so much force that she almost stumbled forward. Her eyes sought his, and Terry simply smiled at her.

It was hard to really groove with so many people around them but Aaliyah’s gregarious personality and spunky attitude somehow made others clear the way to give her room to pop out. Big Boog’s voice and energy on the trap song had Aaliyah giving Terry a performance he was happy to see but also the possessive side of him clocked the hungry eyes of other men. Aaliyah bent over and grabbed her ankles, gyrating her thick cheeks all on his clothed dick. The weight of her backside colliding with his third leg had him groaning under his breath.

The distant voices ehoing dayum and whew shit had Terry craning his neck to see who was speaking on his woman and her acrobatic skills.

His. Terry loved the sound of that.

She tossed that ass back on him and he made sure his dick remained tucked between. His big hands had a vice grip on her hips. Aaliyah lifted, turned, and shimmied her hips to fix her dress. She pressed the front of her body against his and Terry rocked his hips to match hers. Reaching around, Terry double cuffed Aaliyah’s booty and she brought her hands to his waist.

Her hips started moving in a slow whine and Terry pressed his forehead against hers with a slight smirk painted on his lush lips. Already he could feel himself sweating. The DJ switched back to some bounce music and Aaliyah jumped back into an energetic twerk that Terry could keep up with. Aaliyah had her hands on her knees and made that ass clap at an uptempo that had Terry bending his knees to thrust his hips against her.

Everyone on that dance floor were practically body to body. Cheap cologne, fruity perfume, Paul Masson, sweat, and not so pleasant aromas circulated the humid air. The strobe lights covered the entire club in blue light. Terry placed his hands on Aaliyah’s shoulders while she continued to pop that pussy on him. She looked back at him, hair in her face, drenched, and her dress past her ass. She stood tall and made her cheeks bounce and Terry grabbed onto her wrists, holding her hands in the air.

“You’re the best fuckin’ dancer I ever seen,” Terry licked the shell of Aaliyah’s ear, “Got that shit moving.”

“Glad you can keep up with me, Professor.”

The music slowed down after a few more mixes and Twista-Wetter started playing, some people cleared the dance floor and returned to the bar while others went on a restroom break. Terry led Aaliyah closer to their table and then her turned her back towards him. One hand slithered around and pressed between her legs while the other stroked her waist. Aaliyah followed his two-step, her eyes closed as the lyrics started.

callin' ya daddy, daddy

Can you be my daddy, daddy

I need a daddy, daddy

Won't you be my daddy, daddy

Come and make it rain down on me

Come and make it rain down on me

“I want another drink.” Aaliyah said.

“Me too,” Terry wrapped an arm around her waist, “But damn…you feel good against me. I don’t wanna move.”

Thankfully, the waitress responsible for their table was heading over. Terry ordered four more shots and another lemon drop. Aaliyah dipped her body low on to the floor, her hand gliding down Terry’s abs and over the tent in his pants. She gabbed onto his thighs and stared up at him while bent at the knees.

“Get up here,” Terry said, his eyes low from the contact high he was experiencing from the weed.

Aaliyah cupped her hand over his hard dick and pinched his shaft on either side, testing how rigid he was. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ and she flicked her eyes up at him.

Terry mouthed, “Get up.” As a warning.

Aaliyah giggled as she stood, Terry reaching around to pop her on the ass. The waitress returned with their new drinks and they took a seat again, drinking until they were both buzzed enough. Terry watched Aaliyah dance for him when the music switched up again. His little performer. He could tell from her unsteady gaze and sloppy movements that she was good and tipsy. Terry came to the rescue with her purse in hand and left money on the table before leaving with Aaliyah safely in his arms.

———-

Ding.

Terry stopped Aaliyah as they stepped off of the elevator and onto their floor. Dim lighting from the chandelier above them created shadows across their bodies as they walked. Aaliyah began to complain about her feet, so Terry stopped her. He crouched down and started removing her shoes, kissing her inner thighs for good measure. Back on his feet, he carried her shoes and when they finally reached their door Aaliyah used the keycard.

Terry held the door open while Aaliyah made her way inside.

“Drink some water,” Terry handed Aaliyah a water bottle, “and take your clothes off.”

“We fucking?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.

“Whatchu think?”

Aaliyah drank the entire bottle of water down before tossing the empty bottle in the trash. She removed her hoop earrings and placed them on the table next to her bed.

“Help me out,” Aaliyah pinned her hair up and made her way over to Terry, “Undress me please.”

Aaliyah positioned herself in front of the mirror and Terry crept up behind to help her out her dress. His finger tips tugged her dress over her shoulders agonizingly slow, his eyes trailing a path down her spine. Aaliyah slipped her arms out and Terry helped her get it past her hips.

“You think you have the energy to go all night?” Terry questioned as he stared at Aaliyah through the mirror.

“I’m willing to test that out.” Aaliyah replied, glancing up at Terry over her shoulder with a playful smile.

Aaliyah turned to face him, taking off his shirt. Terry raised his long arms above his head and his shirt went up and over and to the floor. His gold chain sat against his pecs and Aaliyah started unfastening his pants. Terry kicked off his shoes and then his eyes locked with Aaliyah’s as she dug her fingers into the waistband of his pants and briefs, pulling both down in one motion. He kicked out of them and then removed his socks.

“You’ve managed to give me a perfectly romantic weekend. A first for me.”

Terry brushed his knuckles across Aaliyah’s cheeks before cupping her face, “Because you’re so special…”

Terry adored Aaliyah. A sudden timid silence filled the space between them and Aaliyah dropped her eyes as she smiled.

“Look at me, pretty baby…”

Aaliyah met his gaze and Terry’s hands fell to the back of her thighs.

“You know I gotta fuck the shit outta you and make you take this dick like a big girl for having my pussy out tonight, right?”

A gasp escaped her lips as Terry lifted her up and Aaliyah circled his waist with her legs. One hand on the back of her head, arm around her waist, he carried her over towards the patio doors. There was only one lamp light on, half of the room pitch black and the other ignited. Aaliyah circled her arms around his shoulders.

They kissed with teeth clashing, tongues touching, and lips sucking. Terry’s dick kept bobbing up and down, smacking Aaliyah against her fat lips. Terry’s lips attacked her jaw, her throat, and her chest. While he sucked her nipples, Aaliyah started bucking her hips against his stiffness.

“You want me to fuck you like this? For everyone to see? Huh, nasty girl?”

“Yes!”

“Oh? That was an eager response,” Terry kissed Aaliyah again, “Let’s see if this pretty pussy can handle it.”

Terry used his immense power and with one arm he lifted Aaliyah sideways so he could use his other hand to point his leaky tip between her pussy lips and in that good, wet hole. A creamy noise filled the room when his tip finally made its way inside and down to his balls. Terry wasted no time fitting Aaliyah down on that big daddy dick. Her ass smacked against the glass and her heels dug into his lower back. Terry flexed all the muscles in his body to slam up into her.

“SHIT DADDY!”

Aaliyah’s back pressed into the glass and Terry kept her legs wide open the more he buried himself inside. He formed a frown on his face and his brows pinched together. He looked riled up and Aaliyah could feel it all.

“Babyyyyyyyyyy…” Terry moaned.

“That pussy good?” Aaliyah responded between soft whimpers.

Terry molded his lips into hers.

“So fuckin’ good. You’re makin’ a mess on this dick, girl,” Terry spoke against her lips, “wetting this dick up, baby. Got my shit so hard…baby, I can’t stop fucking you…”

Aaliyah couldn’t handle the way his oceanic eyes looked at her. She stared down at his good pipe going in and out of her creamy hole with a perplexed look. No matter where her eyes went, she was spellbound by his hypnotic eyes or his thick, long dick. An airy sigh escaped her mouth when he started beating it up at a pace that had her toes curling.

His big, strong body had her sandwiched between the glass and his rock hard torso. Their mingled sweat mixed with the smell of her wet pussy clouded her senses. Terry had his hands planted on the glass, her shoulders draped over his arms, and his hips a never ending piston. Her languid eyes locked with his and he gave her a jeering smile. He was so fucking fine it was unfair.

“Oh…Terry…oh, Terry…oh shit…right there…make me cum…Terry…Terry…Terry—”

Aaliyah gave his chest weak slaps and the back of her head bumped the patio door behind her. Her thighs squeezed his hips painfully and her eyes crossed.

“Good girl, that’s how you cum on this dick.”

Terry kissed Aaliyah, his lips ravishing her mouth while the aftershocks of her orgasm settled. He wasn’t finished with her yet. Terry held her tight and then he opened the patio doors. He placed Aaliyah on her feet and turned her, leaning her over the railing. It was loud enough below from the all the commotion and their patio light wasn’t on.

He slid in from behind and Aaliyah looked back at him with a quizzical expression. Terry slipped his fingers through her hair, gripped the high density strands, and started delivering precise thrusts. Anyone in the rooms beside them could walk out and catch them. A bystander from below if they were close enough could hear their bodies moving.

Terry couldn’t get off that pussy if he tried. The mixture of shock and lust on Aaliyah’s pretty face was yet another weakness. Her soft ass thrown back on him. The way she took his dick, all of his dick. Her sweet moans in his ear.

“Work this pussy, daddy!”

Terry covered her mouth and blew her back out further. His sweat fell over her back and his muscles ached.

“Daddy got you baby…uhhuhhh…such a good girl…”

Terry almost came with the way Aaliyah’s walls gripped him with her release. As he pulled out, Aaliyah squirted on his dick and all over the patio floor. Terry’s forehead fell against Aaliyah’s back and she let out an exhausted laugh. Aaliyah spun around and dropped to her knees to clean her mess off. Terry flashed her a tender smile while she throated his dick.

Aaliyah popped her lips off and rotated her head to drag her lips along the sides of his shaft to clean up her cum. She even dipped her head lower to slurp on his balls. His nuts drew up tight and the veins along his shaft engorged with blood. A familiar tickle behind his navel alerted him that he was ready to cum.

No. Terry needed to be inside his pussy again. He needed to cum in his pussy.

He gained enough strength to pick Aaliyah up bridal style and walk with her back inside.

On the bed, Aaliyah sat up on her side and Terry got behind her, lifted one leg, and entered her gushy pussy again. His fingers strummed her clit as he sucked on her neck. Aaliyah kept her leg in the air for him. He slowly fucked her and brought her to climax again.

“I love the faces you make when you cum all over this dick…”

“It’s so big inside me…I can’t stop cumming on it…”

“Good,” Terry thrust into her and held his dick there.

“Fuck,” Aaliyah trembled, “So fuckin’ thick in my pussy…”

“I know baby…I know…”

“You must want me to feel it all week,” Aaliyah released a moan and met Terry’s searing eyes. She crooked her head and puckered her lips. Terry captured her soft lips with wet smacking and spit swapping, “Oh, shit…”

Tears rolled down and over her nose. Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip. Terry would slowly withdraw his hips and then push back into her to the hilt with a sharp thrust. He leaned over her to watch her face.

“Terry, fuck,” Aaliyah was drooling on the pillow, “Baby you gotta take some outtttt…”

Aaliyah tried to scoot away. Terry pinned her down beneath him and as soon as he put her ankles over his shoulders he had his fists rammed into the mattress and his hips working to fuck her good. Aaliyah tried to close her legs, Terry growing hostile and pinning her ankles back.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Aaliyah pushed at Terry’s chest, “So much…dick…fuck…”

Terry smacked her hands away and gave her a pointed look, “Aaliyah…please keep still before you make me mad, baby.”

His words were soft spoken but the way he looked down at her from that angle, repeatedly clenching his jaw, Aaliyah didn’t have a say in the matter. Terry was back inside of her like it was his second home.

“Keep your hands down…do what I say, Aaliyah.” Terry warned.

His stern voice and killer strokes had Aaliyah crying.

“Why you fuckin’ me like this?” Aaliyah questioned with passionate concern, “Why you fuckin’ me like this, Daddy?”

Her head extended back and Terry almost lost his damn mind from the pressure around his dick when her soft, inner folds began to pulsate. He lost all control of his neck and his head fell forward against Aaliyah’s shoulder.

“Fuck, ima cum so deep in this shit…”

“Unh! Uh! Oo! Oh my god! Terry!”

Terry hissed with his final strokes. He dropped down and painted Aaliyah’s walls white. His arms shook and he had to roll over before he fell on top of Aaliyah and crushed her. Terry mushed his face against her sweaty neck and brought his hand between her legs. With two fingers, he pushed them inside of her to feel his cum.

Aaliyah was spent. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“You did so well, good job baby,” Terry kissed along her sweaty skin, “Wore me out…”

Aaliyah mumbled something Terry couldn’t decipher.

“Wanna take a bath?” Terry asked with a tired voice.

“Mhm…”

Terry opened one eye to look at Aaliyah. He stroked her hair from her face. She opened her eyes fully and turned her head toward him. A smile spread across her face.

“You complete me.” Aaliyah spoke so low.

“I complete you?” He repeated.

“Mhm. Me,” Aaliyah pointed to her naked chest, “And you,” she pressed the same finger against Terry’s chest, “We go together.”

Terry laughed joyfully, “Yeah? Boyfriend and Girlfriend?”

Aaliyah simply nodded her head with her eyes closed and a faint smile.

They rested in the bed for another thirty minutes before Terry finally got up to start the bath. He ran a warm bath and let Aaliyah relax for a bit. Back in the room, Terry lifted her up from the bed and brought her in the bathroom. He carefully placed her in the tub and then positioned himself behind her. Terry washed her and pressed kisses against her cheek.

Holding her in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the feeling. The intensity. He wanted and needed this woman.

———

It was a cooler day on Sunday. Aaliyah took a nap in the passenger seat of Terry’s hellcat. She was scrunched up in a ball, frizzy hair flying into her face from the afternoon air billowing in through the windows. Terry rolled to a stop in front of her shotgun house and turned his car off. A crisp, white T-shirt with a pair of bootcut, light wash jeans was his attire. Aaliyah shifted and then she peeked her head out from beneath the hood of Terry’s all black hoodie.

“Wake up sleeping beauty. Home sweet home.”

Aaliyah stretched and rubbed her eyes before staring at her home awaiting her arrival.

“Do I have to?”

She poked her lip out at Terry. He stroked it with his thumb.

“I don’t have anything to do I can come in.”

Aaliyah’s face lit up, “Oh, please, won’t you keep me company?” She asked with a deep, southern drawl.

Terry laughed, “Anything for my pretty baby.”

“You love me too much—shit.”

Aaliyah clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled with embarrassment. Terry pinched the bridge of his nose and cracked a smile.

“That just…sorry,” Aaliyah slapped her forehead, “I meant to say…like. Oh god—”

“Aaliyah, chill. It’s okay.”

She covered her face with her hands and Terry unbuckled his seatbelt so he could lift her up and over into his lap.

“I’m falling for you deep, baby…ain’t nothing wrong with what you said.”

Aaliyah sat her chin on Terry’s shoulder.

“I’ve never been treated like this…ever.”

Terry stroked her back with his hand.

“I want you to let go of the past. I’m here to show you that you deserve love, Aaliyah…you’re an amazing woman.”

“You really don’t care that I shake my ass for a little cash?”

Terry shook his head and chuckled, “NO.”

“I’m nervous, about the wedding…”

Aaliyah sat back and looked down at Terry. He furrowed his brows with concern.

“If you think I’m gon’ sit back and let anybody talk disrespectful about you…”

Terry tilted her chin up. He closed the space between them and gave Aaliyah a slow tongue kiss. When Aaliyah broke the kiss first, Terry stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s get outta this car.”

Aaliyah crawled back into her seat and Terry exited the car. As he got out, he noticed a woman standing across the street, peeking at him from behind a light pole. Her hair was all over her head and she was dressed in a loose fitting flannel shirt with an equally ill–fitting faded dark green T-shirt beneath it. She wore denim cut offs and flip flops. Beneath the changes that living on the street can do to you, Terry could see that she was once a gorgeous woman.

“Terry…”

Aaliyah followed his gaze and when she realized where he was looking and who he was looking at, her entire body became stiff and her face fell, becoming expressionless.

The woman finally stepped out from behind the light post. She wrapped the flannel around her narrow waist as if she were exposed. Glancing both ways cautiously, she stepped down from the curb and walked over towards them. Aaliyah jumped into action, walking around the car with brisk movements. Terry didn’t intervene, but he kept an eye on the woman and around him. He could tell from the shifty look in her eyes that she was watching out for an unwanted guest.

“Mama, I thought I said you can’t come around unannounced?” Aaliyah fussed.

“I know, I know, I–I saw your car in the driveway. I know it’s–I’m only askin’ because I owe some money—”

“Stop,” Aaliyah didn’t have the energy to go back and forth with her mother, especially when she had such a great time with Terry, “You can’t keep showing up with your hand out. I gave you money. I refuse to continue funding your habit.”

“Aaliyah, please,” her mother grabbed onto her hand, halting her from leaving, “I know I’m no good. I know you hate me. But if I don’t pay him back, he gon’ kill me.”

Terry stood taller when he heard those words. He made eye contact with Aaliyah and he could see the inner battle between wanting to help her mother and setting boundaries. He approached them, her mother watching him with paranoid eyes.

“Who you?” She questioned rudely.

Aaliyah crossed her arms over her body and hung her head in shame. Terry glanced at her before returning his attention to her addict mother. She licked her cracked lips with uneasy eyes.

“My name is Terry. I’m Aaliyah’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”

Aaliyah appeared miffed that Terry introduced himself to her mother as her boyfriend. She remained stiff and icy despite the sweltering heat in Baton Rouge.

“Didn’t know you had a lil’ friend, baby…nice to meet you.”

Her mother scratched her neck, a nervous tick. She tried adjusting her attire in front of Terry, a despondent expression on her face.

“Likewise, ma’am.” Terry replied politely with a faint smile.

“Hope you treating my baby girl with some respect and love. She deserves it,” her mother sought out Aaliyah’s eyes with her sorrowful ones, “I know I ain’t been the best mother…”

“Yes, ma’am. I plan to.”

Her mother nodded her head, eyes shifting from left to right. Terry looked at Aaliyah again, a feeble smile on his face as he caught her eyes.

“Listen,” Terry reached into his back pocket, pulled out two, crisp hundreds, and held it out for her mother to take, “Will this take care of it?”

Aaliyah snapped her head up, “Terry? Don’t—”

Her mother went from dispirited to elated in a matter of seconds. It sickened Aaliyah to her core.

“Thank you,” her mother snatched the bills from Terry’s fingers so fast she could have ripped them. An artificial smile spread across her chapped lips, revealing missing teeth, “bless you, bless you, baby. Thank you for this,” she pressed the money against her chest, “Look out for Aaliyah, wil you?” She kissed the money and started backpedaling.

Aaliyah was furious.

“Aaliyah, I’m trying—”

Aaliyah was halfway to her house. She stomped up her steps and fumbled with her keys. Terry watched her mother rush off wiping her tears away with her dingy shirt. Terry took long strides towards Aaliyah’s house, skipping steps as he entered her home. He followed the sound of dishes and cabinets shutting. Terry entered Aaliyah’s kitchen, carefully approaching her from behind while she busied herself with putting away kitchenware from her dishwasher.

A gloomy silence hung in the air between them. Terry stood behind Aaliyah, allowing his presence to cover her with warmth and protection. Aaliyah shut the door to the dishwasher and gripped the edge of the counter. Since she hadn’t been home, the house felt stuffy and hot. Aaliyah stepped back and lifted Terry’s hoodie up and over her head. A thin, spaghetti strapped tank in light gray was revealed. It matched her gray leggings.

Terry took the hoodie from her. Aaliyah had her head turned away, hiding her face from him.

“I’m sorry.” Terry spoke.

“You should have let me handle it.”

“I know it ain’t my business…I couldn’t shake the fear in her eyes.”

“She’s an actress,” Aaliyah said sarcastically as she turned to face him fully, “She played you like she played me plenty.”

Aaliyah laughed despite her growing frustration.

“She’s been lurking around my house all weekend. I have surveillance cameras all around my house and I kept getting alerts to my phone with her knocking on my door and peering in my windows.”

“That’s why you looked like that when we went out for lunch yesterday.” Terry said.

“I didn’t want to talk about it. My mama is a trigger for me.”

For once, Terry didn’t have the words. He felt he’d crossed a line with Aaliyah. Things were still so fresh for them.

“I’m really sorry, baby,” Terry extended his hand to grab Aaliyah’s.

She stared down at their connected hand and the way Terry stroked hers with his thumb.

“…My mother will never change,” A single tear rolled down her cheek, “And I’m so embarrassed that this had to be the first time you two meet.”

Aaliyah slipped away from Terry and out of the kitchen. Terry leaned against her octagon–shaped kitchen island with deep–green marbling, white hued veining, and a polished finish. It matched the surrounding counter tops in her small and intimate kitchen. Terry found himself traveling down her narrow hallway that led to her bedroom.

Aaliyah was crying on her bed covered in clothes. She hid her face against her pillow. Terry tapped the open door with his knuckles. Aaliyah’s sniffles silenced and she looked up at him. She sat up, wiping the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

“Can I come in?”

Aaliyah replied with a nod.

Terry stepped over the threshold that separated him from the hallway and her. He kicked his shoes off and not wanting to sit on the bed with his outside clothes, he took off his jeans. Terry walked around her canopy bed and pulled the black drapes back before crawling onto the bed. He settled on his side next to her.

“You don’t have to talk about it, Aaliyah. But I’m here to listen…”

Terry couldn’t fight the urge to stroke away her tears with his thumb. Aaliyah’s wet lashes blinked at him as she rested on her side facing him.

“Blue magic and Luster’s Pink Hair Lotion…”

A crease formed between Terry’s brows as he waited for Aaliyah to speak again.

“Isoplus Oil Sheen…I can still smell it…taste it almost. My childhood memories. It just…reminds me of how exciting it used to be sitting in the kitchen the night before Easter Sunday. My mom would have the radio on and I would be sitting in her designated styling chair while she put a hot comb to my hair. I wanted to be a hairdresser like her…”

Aaliyah continued, “I was so amazed at the hair shows. Blown away by my mama’s talent. You couldn’t tell me shit ‘bout my mama…she was everything to me…but then my daddy died…and…that light in her just…burnt out. Despite the way she allowed her depression to neglect me…the one thing that made me so angry with her…was when our home got taken away and she…she let them people throw away our memories. All the pictures…all the CDs…all my toys…all the hair products…I resented her then. Wild, right?”

Aaliyah’s red–rimmed eyes sought out Terry’s. Somehow, seeing her cry made his eyes sting as tears threatened to fall. He blinked rapidly to control it.

“Nothing can help her? Not rehab? Not family?”

“She exhausted rehab. My family disowned her. For a while I’ve been the only one to look out for her. Like I’m the mother,” Aaliyah released a furious chuckle, “And nothing I did meant anything to her. I’m so tired. And it hurts me because I want better for her. I miss her. But I just…Terry, I can’t do it—”

“It’s okay, Aaliyah. It’s okay…You’ve done all you could, baby. I wish she didn’t fail you…C’mere…”

Aaliyah buried her face against his T-shirt and as she cried, the scent of his fresh linen and sweat felt like comfort. His bulging biceps hugged her and he rubbed soothing circles into her back.

“I don’t want you to feel ashamed or embarrassed. If anything, she should…”

Terry kissed the top of Aaliyah’s head.

Aliyah hiccuped between cries. Terry let her release it all, uncaring that the front of his shirt was soaked. Her warm breath against his chest felt good and if he could remain silent and calm with her forever like this he would. Terry glanced down at her after some time and she was asleep against his chest. The crying exhausted her. Plus, from their weekend filled with sex, eating, and drinking, Aaliyah didn’t have proper sleep. Neither did he. Terry checked the time on his bronze and black Movado Watch with a gold plate and a cognac leather strap.

It was a little past five in the afternoon.

Terry eased from Aaliyah’s bed and covered her with her sheets. He left her to rest while he decided to look through her fridge for anything to cook for dinner. He opened her pantry and found some golden potatoes and in her fridge he found some andouille sausage. Opening her freezer, he noticed a pack of boneless, skinless chicken thighs. While his pretty girl slept her worries away, Terry made his way around her kitchen with his tear–stained T-shirt and Calvin Klein’s.

Smothered potatoes with chicken and smoked sausage was on the menu.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[marvelobsessed134]

Babygirl

Pairing: MBF!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/n: Miiight make this into a miniseries? Who knows.

Warnings: age gap (unspecified), smut, dildo (r receiving), mommy kink, dom!wanda, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving)

Every time Wanda came over to visit your mom, you felt her eyes on you. It sort of made you uncomfortable but only uncomfortable because you liked it. She was beautiful and older than you, she was feminine but held a dominant presence.

This morning you woke up and walked into the living room that was also connected to the kitchen. Wanda was leaning against the counter while she talked to your mother. She was wearing a tank top and leggings. Her eyes immediately went to you, “Oh, hello there.”

“Hi, Wanda. Hi, mom.” You responded.

“Oh Y/n. I’m gonna head to the store. Wanda’s gonna stay here with you ok?” Your mom said.

You nodded and went back up to your room after getting a glass of water. Moments later a soft knock filled the room before Wanda stepped inside.

“Oh, hi Wanda.” You said.

“Hi princess.” She slowly stalked towards you before sitting next to you on your bed. Your room was so pink and girly. The older woman thought you were the cutest thing ever.

“Whatcha doing?” The brunette asked.

“Watching TikTok.” You responded. She gently took your phone and tossed it to the side before letting her hand creep up on your leg.

“W-Wanda what are you doing?”

“Shh baby. You wanna be a good girl for mommy?”

“M-mommy?”

“Yes, baby. Mommy. You know how badly I’ve wanted you to be my pet?” You shook your head and she chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I want you to be my good little girl. My precious pet. Can you do that? Do you wanna be mommy’s pet?”

Your panties were soaked by now, only being hidden by your skirt. Of course you’ve thought about this before, having your own dirty fantasies. All you could do was nod.

“I need words, babygirl.” Wanda’s tone was low and dominant making your throb more.

“Yes mommy. I wanna be your pet.”

“Good girl.” She captured your lips with hers, her hand sneaking up under your skirt. “Oh, my baby is already so wet.” She chuckled darkly. She pulled your shirt up over your head to reveal your delicate lace bra underneath. She made quick work of removing that, too.

Wanda groped your breasts and pinched your nipples as she hungrily made out with you, making your moan into her mouth. Her mouth expertly moved to suck and bite your nipples, making sure both sides got the right amount of attention.

“Keep that cute little skirt on babygirl.” She whispered as she pulled your panties down. You instinctively spread your legs revealing your dripping pussy causing the brunette to groan, “fuck, look at that pretty little pussy.” Her fingers teasingly slid through your slick folds making you whimper.

“Mommy-“

“Shh baby. Just relax.” Her two fingers expertly entered your cunt, pumping them in and out and curling them to hit your special spot. Her thumb reached up to rub your clit. You were a moaning mess at this point, hips bucking in the air.

“That’s a good girl, so tight for mommy.” Wanda groaned, picking up the pace leading you to your finish. You cried out and arched your back as you clenched around her fingers.

“Ah, yes. There you go just like that…” she continued to help you come down from your high before removing her fingers and sucking them clean, moaning at the taste of your cum.

“Guess what baby? Mommy brought a special toy for you.” Your eyes widened in interest as she reached in her bag to pull out a decently sized dildo. She brought it to your lips, “open your mouth, sweetheart.” You did as she said and she slid the fake cock through your lips, making you gag around it.

“Yeah, that’s it. Get it all nice and wet…” tears sprung in your eyes as you take the fake cock down your throat, your pussy dripping onto your sheets. Finally, the older woman slides it out of your mouth before positioning it between your folds.

“You ready to take this cock, babygirl?”

“Yes mommy.” You whimpered as it slowly stretched you out, before she slid it all the way in. “Ohhh….” You moaned. Wanda thrusted the toy in and out of you slowly, relishing at the sight. “Such a good little pet for mommy. Taking mommy’s big toy like a good girl.”

You gripped the sheets as she sped up her pace, the dildo constantly hitting your g spot. Your eyes were screwed shut as you took in the pleasure. Wanda pinched your nipple as she continued to violate you.

“Cmon, baby. I know you wanna cum again.” As if on cue, you clenched around the toy and arched your back as you came. She watched in amusement as you shook underneath her. She pulled the toy out and licked up all your cum off of it before licking your pussy clean.

“Next time, mommy’s gonna bring more special toys.”

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

-------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[gf2bellamy]

HI IM BACK AGAIN!! just wanted to say a huge thank you for doing my request :DD

anyway i had this really cewl idea where the reader kinda dresses up as spencer one day for a prank or a joke and he LOVES IT

idk how he’d react or anything but i thought it was really cute !

YOURE THE BEST!!

- 🐚

dress up — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: Of course !! You're so very welcome <333 THIS IDEA IS SO CUTE AND FUN i love it so creative - thank you for requesting i hope you like it !!! also the first picture is what i'd imagine the outfit would look like but ofc you're free to imagine any other outfit !

You held your coffee tightly, the warmth seeping through your fingers as you stepped into the elevator. You tapped your foot impatiently against the metal floor. 

The brown satchel hung at your side, an almost identical match to Spencer’s. The moment you saw it at the store yesterday, the idea struck you like a lightning bolt.

What if, just for a day, you dressed like him?

The thought had been amusing, almost childish in its excitement, but you couldn’t shake it. After all, Spencer had an undeniably good sense of style—classic, intellectual, effortlessly endearing. 

So, you woke up early that morning, carefully piecing together the outfit. A checkered button-down, layered under a cable-knit sweater, topped with a brown blazer. Dark slacks and your best attempt at his signature satchel completed the look.

You had smiled at yourself in the mirror, suppressing a laugh. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough. Close enough that he would notice.

You grinned to yourself as you stepped into the BAU, the usual hum of conversation and rustling papers filling the air.

You made your way toward your desk, your fingers wrapped around the warm coffee cup as you stole a glance at Spencer. 

He was deeply engrossed in the pile of case files before him, his eyes darting across the pages in that rapid way of his, completely unaware of your presence.

But the moment you set your coffee down with a soft thud, he stirred, lifting his head with the beginnings of a familiar smile—one he always gave you in the morning. 

Except this time, it never fully formed. 

His mouth fell open slightly, his brows knitting together in visible confusion as his gaze swept over you.

His eyes lingered on the checkered button-down peeking from beneath your cream-colored sweater, the structured blazer draped effortlessly over your shoulders, and finally, the brown satchel at your side. 

You watched the gears turn in his brilliant mind, the way he pieced it together like he was solving a puzzle. The realization hit him all at once. 

"You—" Spencer started, blinking rapidly, before his voice caught in his throat. He looked back at you, then at your outfit, then back at you again, as if trying to confirm whether his brain was playing tricks on him. 

You simply raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly, amusement dancing in your eyes. 

A teasing smile played at your lips as you leaned against your desk. "Something wrong, Dr. Reid?" 

His lips parted, but no immediate response came. Instead, he let out a short, breathy laugh—equal parts bewildered and amused. "You’re… you’re dressed like me." 

You feigned a gasp, placing a hand on your chest. "What? No. This is just my natural sense of style." 

Spencer narrowed his eyes playfully, clearly unconvinced. "The satchel—it's nearly identical to mine." 

You casually adjusted the strap on your shoulder. "Great minds think alike." 

"And the sweater over the button-down?" His voice held an unmistakable note of amusement now. 

"Classic, isn’t it?" You shrugged. "I figured if I’m going to be the second smartest person in the BAU, I should at least dress the part." 

Spencer huffed out a soft chuckle, running a hand through his curls as if still trying to process it all.

For a moment, he just stared at you. And then, with the smallest shake of his head, he muttered under his breath, "Unbelievable." 

You smirked. "Believe it, genius." 

His lips twitched as he finally broke into a full smile—the kind that made your stomach flip. 

Mission accomplished. 

"Oh, wait! Let me show you the most important part," you announced with a grin, making your way over to his desk. 

Spencer’s eyes followed you, still filled with disbelief, as if his brain was struggling to catch up with reality. You stopped beside him.

Then, with a dramatic flourish, you bent down and lifted the hem of your pants, revealing your socks. 

"Mismatched," you declared proudly. One sock was patterned with tiny astronauts, the other with bright yellow ducks. "It’s not a Spencer Reid outfit if it doesn’t include mismatched socks, right?" 

You shot him a cheeky smile, waiting for his reaction. 

For a second, he just stared. 

Mouth slightly open. 

Eyes wide. 

Silent. 

Then, in the span of a breath, he let out a sharp laugh—genuine, unfiltered, and completely caught off guard.

"You—" he tried, but another laugh escaped before he could finish. "You really committed to this." 

You straightened up, feigning offense. "Of course I did! I take my role as Spencer Reid 2.0 very seriously." 

He shook his head, still chuckling as he ran a hand through his curls. "Unbelievable." 

"Believable," you corrected with a smirk, plopping down in the chair next to him. 

Spencer studied you for a moment, his gaze softer now. Then, as if making a silent decision, he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his desk. 

"You know," he said, voice quieter but no less warm, "I think you might be pulling it off better than I do." 

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip at the compliment, but you masked it with an easy shrug. "Well, I do make everything look good." 

He huffed out another small laugh, shaking his head before looking back down at his papers. "I don’t know whether I should be flattered or worried about my own fashion sense now." 

You nudged his shoulder lightly. "Definitely flattered." 

And though he didn’t say anything, the faint pink dusting his cheeks told you he absolutely was. 

[zephyrchama]

You are a sheep.

You have been in the form of a sheep ever since you came to the Devildom. It can be quite inconvenient at times, but life finds a way.

This particular morning, you were awoken in the early hours of the morning by an odd murmur. It was impossible to gauge the time, given the Devildom's eternal night, but something instinctual told you it was too early for whatever nonsense was about to happen.

Fighting your heavy eyelids, you turned your head. Seven demons were sitting on the floor beside your bed, staring at you.

"You're awake!" Leviathan proclaimed.

"I told you the noise would wake them," Lucifer sighed.

"We were being quiet, though," Belphegor remarked.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Asmodeus greeted you.

"Shut it! It's happenin'!" Mammon caused the room to go silent again.

If you've learned anything in the Devildom, it's that even sheep deserve privacy. You dragged yourself into a sitting position and bleated, "what's happening?"

"We're checking the weather," Satan informed you.

"It's a tradition of sorts," Beelzebub explained.

"Can't you do that... literally anywhere else?" The second half of your question got obscured by a yawn, but you were sure you made your point. "What time even is it?"

"It's 6:03," Leviathan said.

"In the morning? Are you guys kidding me?"

As you sighed a grumpy sigh and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, Satan called your name.

"What?"

"Have you checked your shadow?" he asked.

"Huh? What do you mean, checked it?"

"Did you see it?" Belphegor asked.

"My shadow?" There was hardly any light, let alone light strong enough to cast a shadow on your bed. You twisted your neck to look around. "I have no idea what you're talking about..."

"No shadow!" Mammon exclaimed, so loud you almost fell over again.

Lucifer nodded his head, hand placed thoughtfully on chin. "Spring will likely come early this year. I'll inform Diavolo."

Asmodeus launched himself at your spot on the bed. Before you could stop him, he had you lifted in the air. "You're the best!"

Everybody clapped. Leviathan was going on about "the springtime of youth" finally arriving, while Beelzebub said they'd all have to get hot pot one last time before it went out of season. Important context about what just happened was clearly missing, but you've learned that sometimes you need to just go with the flow.

You dangled ragdoll-style from Asmodeus' hands while he did a little dance and wondered if they'd all let you go back to sleep.

You know they won't. Happy Groundhog Day! Looks like irl we've got 6 more weeks of winter.

[mrsfancyferrari]

His Feast

Summary: LH44 + slow feasting on you

Song: Pipe · Christina Aguilera

Author’s note: Thanks @urfriendlywriter for the prompt idea. Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 3.8k

The way you moved had become a carefully choreographed dance, a soft sway designed to conceal more than it revealed. Every morning, the ritual started with the oversized t-shirt, the one that swallowed your frame whole, a deliberate shield against prying eyes - and the eyes you felt most drawn to, those of Lewis.

You hadn’t always been like this, a creature of shadows and loose fabric. There was a time, not so long ago, when you’d pranced around in shorts and tank tops, comfortable in the skin you inhabited.

But somewhere along the line, a whisper of doubt, a chorus of insecurities, had grown into a deafening roar in your mind.

Lewis, with his infuriatingly open affection, only heightened your shame. He’d always been vocal about his appreciation for your body, for the curves and the dips that you were now so desperate to hide.

He’d trace the line of your collarbone with a soft finger and say, “You’re stunning, you know that?” His words, once music to your ears, now felt like a spotlight, exposing every supposed flaw.

You tried to deflect his compliments, to change the subject with a nervous laugh, but his gaze always held a knowing tenderness that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

You’d started avoiding mirrors, your reflection now a source of painful scrutiny. The gym had become a prison, each session a grueling exercise in self-loathing.

You’d catch Lewis watching you sometimes, his expression a mix of concern and confusion, and you’d quickly turn away, ashamed of your attempts to shrink, to disappear.

You knew you were being ridiculous, but the voice in your head was relentless, painting you as flawed, as something less than beautiful.

One evening, you were getting ready for a quiet night in. You pulled on an old, baggy sweatshirt, the one that Lewis had jokingly called your ‘hibernation tent.’

He was in the kitchen, humming softly as he prepared dinner. When he came into the bedroom, he paused, his smile faltering.

“You okay, love?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Yeah, why?” you replied, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Just…you’ve been wearing this a lot lately," he said, his eyes lingering on the oversized fabric. "And the jeans, even when it’s warm. Everything seems so…covered.”

You felt your chest tighten. You wanted to lie, to tell him you were just cold, but his gaze was too understanding, too perceptive.

“I’m just…comfortable,” you mumbled, looking away.

He stepped closer, his hand lightly touching your arm. “You look comfortable, sure, but you don’t seem comfortable. Are you…are you hiding from me?”

His question pierced you like a shard of glass. You couldn't hold it in anymore. “I’m not as beautiful as you say I am," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips. "I... I see things in the mirror, things I don’t like. Things that you think aren’t there, but they are.”

His forehead furrowed, his touch becoming firmer, yet softer. "What things?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Tell me.”

You hesitated, the shame rising like a tide. “My…my tummy, the way my thighs look, my arms…everything.” You closed your eyes, the tears threatening to spill.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. When you opened your eyes, he was still looking at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your throat ache. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, shame washing over you in waves. “I’m sorry," you said, your voice cracking. "I know it’s silly but…”

He stepped forward, pulling you gently into his arms. “Don’t you ever,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your hair, “Don’t you ever apologize for feeling something. And please, never call what you feel, silly.”

You clung to him, burying your face in his chest, the tears finally escaping. “I just want to be the person you see,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt.

He held you tight, his hand stroking your back. “I see you, love,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I see all of you. And all of you is beautiful. It’s not just what’s on the surface, though that is stunning obviously, it’s also the way you laugh, the way you care, the heart that you have. That’s what makes you beautiful. Do you trust me?”

His question hung in the air. You looked up at him, your eyes red and swollen. “Yes,” you said, your voice barely audible. “I do.”

He smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made your heart ache in the best possible way. "Okay then," he said, taking your hands. "Let’s do something about this.”

The room was a symphony of shadows and candlelight as Lewis guided you to the bed, the soft glow playing over his chiseled features, painting a picture of raw masculine beauty that made your knees wobble.

The air was thick with anticipation, charged with the electricity of a thousand unspoken words. You felt the heat of his gaze as he took in your form, the hunger in his eyes making you quiver with a need so deep it was almost painful.

"Take off your clothes," he said, his voice a gentle command that resonated through you like a bass note from a distant cello.

His eyes never left yours as you fumbled with the buttons of your blouse, the fabric sliding away to reveal the swells of your breasts.

He watched you with the intensity of a hawk eyeing its prey, his pupils dilating as your vulnerability laid bare before him.

The fabric of your skirt whispered against your legs as it fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your lacy underwear. He took in the sight of you, his breath hitching slightly as he traced the edge of your panties with the tip of his finger.

"Do you know how much I love watching you undress for me?" he murmured, his voice a soft caress that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, feeling a blush creep up your neck. His touch was like a brand, leaving trails of fire in its wake as he gently eased down your panties, revealing the dampness between your thighs.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, and whispered, "I want to show you just how much I crave you."

And then he did. His mouth found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, his teeth grazing the soft skin as he kissed you.

His hands roamed your body with a confidence that made you feel like the most precious treasure in the world, each caress a declaration of his love for your every curve and dip.

His thumb slid between your folds, teasing your clit, as he whispered sweet nothings about your beauty into your ear.

You moaned as he slid a finger inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing out the pleasure until you were begging for more.

He added another, filling you up as his thumb continued to dance over your swollen bud. The feeling was almost too much, a delicious agony that made you arch your back, desperate for relief.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice a gruff whisper. You met his gaze, his eyes dark with lust and something else, something deeper.

Something that made your heart stutter in your chest. "See what you do to me," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his pants.

You couldn't help the smug smile that curved your lips. You knew you affected him, knew that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. But seeing it laid bare like this was intoxicating.

He took your hand and placed it on his hardness, his eyes never leaving yours as you squeezed gently.

"Take off your bra," he said, his voice hoarse. You complied, the fabric falling away to expose your breasts to the cool air. He cupped them in his hands, his thumbs teasing your nipples into hard peaks.

His mouth followed the trail his hands had set, kissing and nibbling his way down your body, leaving a path of fire in his wake.

When his mouth reached your breasts, you thought you might die from the pleasure. His tongue flicked and swirled around your nipples as his hands kneaded and squeezed, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I could play with these all night."

Your body was a canvas, and he was the artist, painting strokes of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. You felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your orgasm building like a storm at sea, ready to crash over you at any moment.

"Lewis," you breathed, your voice a plea.

He pulled away, a wicked glint in his eye. "Not yet, baby," he said, his voice low and husky. "There's so much more I want to show you."

And with that, he stood and began to strip away his own clothes, his body revealed inch by glorious inch. You watched, transfixed, as he shed the last of his garments, his erection standing proud and thick, a testament to his desire for you.

"Are you ready?" Lewis murmured, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, your eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. The weight of his question was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment where you would let go of your fears and insecurities, and let him love you completely.

"Good," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very air. He stepped closer to you, his naked body a sculpture of desire in the flickering candlelight.

The heat of him washed over you, making your skin prickle with goosebumps, and you could feel the tension in the room ratchet up a notch.

With a gentle touch, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. "I'm going to show you just how much you mean to me," he murmured. "How much I love every inch of you."

His mouth met yours in a kiss that was at once tender and fierce, a promise of the passion to come. His tongue slid against yours, teasing and tasting, as his hands slid down to grip your hips.

He stepped closer, the length of him pressing against your stomach as he lifted you onto the bed, never breaking the kiss.

You felt the softness of the sheets beneath you, a stark contrast to the hardness of his body above. His weight was a comfort, a reassurance that he was here, that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Look at me," he said again, pulling away slightly so he could gaze into your eyes. "I need you to see me, to know that this is real."

You nodded again, unable to find the words to express what you felt. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands sliding over your thighs as he bent his head to kiss you again, his tongue tracing the line of your jaw before moving lower, to the hollow of your throat.

His kisses grew more urgent, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands roamed further, one hand finding its way back to your breast while the other slid down to cup you between the legs.

You gasped as he began to rub you in slow, firm circles, the pressure building as your body responded to his touch.

The first wave of pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you and leaving you gasping for air. You clutched at the sheets, your body arching off the bed as Lewis watched you with hooded eyes, his own desire evident in the tightness of his jaw and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He whispered sweet, filthy things into your ear, his voice a dark symphony that sent shivers down your spine. His mouth moved to your neck, his teeth scraping gently against your skin as his fingers danced over your clit.

You felt his cock nudging against your entrance, the blunt tip probing gently as he kissed a line of fire down to your chest.

"I'm going to make love to you now," he murmured, his voice a velvet promise. "I'm going to show you just how beautiful you are, how much I crave you."

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your body already singing with pleasure. And then he was inside you, filling you up in one slow, deep stroke that had you crying out his name.

His eyes never left yours as he began to move, his hips rocking into you with a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars.

The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain as he stretched and filled you, his every movement a declaration of his love for your body.

You could feel your walls clench around him, desperate to hold him in, never let him go.

You watched as he took his own pleasure, his eyes dark with passion, his jaw tight as he fought for control. And when he finally let go, when he came with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, you felt a sense of accomplishment, of belonging, that was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

He collapsed onto you, his weight a comfort as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice muffled. "All of you. And I'm never letting go."

And in that moment, you knew it was true. You had found your home, in the arms of the man who had just shown you that love was more than just a feeling; it was an act of worship, a celebration of the beauty that lay within.

"I'm yours," you whispered back, your voice trembling with the intensity of the emotions that surged through you.

Lewis pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or hesitation. Finding none, he kissed you again, this time with a tenderness that made you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

His cock, still hard within you, throbbed with the beat of his heart, and you felt a renewed sense of connection, of unity.

"I want you to come again," he murmured, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. "I want to feel you shatter for me, baby."

With gentle coaxing, he began to move again, his strokes long and deep, his eyes never leaving yours. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you could feel your orgasm building once more, a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm you.

Your breath grew ragged as you chased the peak, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks that would serve as a testament to the passion that had consumed you.

His own breath was hot and uneven against your neck, his body tense with the effort of holding back, of waiting for you to reach that perfect moment.

And when it came, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. It was a symphony of sensations, a maelstrom of pleasure that tore through you, leaving you shaking and gasping beneath him.

His name was a litany on your lips, a chant that matched the rhythm of his hips, the pounding of your heart.

As the last vestiges of your climax faded away, he kissed you softly, his movements slowing to a gentle rock as he allowed you to come down from the high.

His arms tightened around you, and you knew that in this moment, you were where you belonged.

He rolled to the side, taking you with him so that you lay entwined, his cock still buried within you. "I love you," he whispered, the words a soft benediction against your ear.

You turned your head to look at him. "I love you too, Lewis."

He kissed you again, a chaste peck that held more promise than any grand gesture could ever convey. "Now, let me show you just how much."

And with that, he began to move again, his touch tender, his kisses reverent. This time, there was no rush, no urgency. Just the two of you, lost in the sweetness of each other's embrace, exploring the depths of the love that had brought you to this place.

The night stretched out before you, a tapestry of passion and pleasure, and you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always have this moment, this perfect union of bodies and souls.

"Look at me," he said again, his voice a gentle coax. You obeyed, your eyes meeting his, the intensity of his gaze making you quiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "So perfect. And all mine."

Your insecurities were a distant memory as you felt the warmth of his love surrounding you, a cocoon of acceptance and desire that made you feel more alive than you had ever been.

And as he brought you to the brink once more, and pushed you over the edge into oblivion, you knew that you had been reborn, not just as a lover, but as a woman who had finally learned to embrace her beauty, her passion, and the love that she had been so desperately seeking. . . .

[liahaslosthermind]

𝑬𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏

Summary: The 4 times the Night Court’s Shadowsinger mentioned… someone, and the first time his family got the promise of an answer. 

Content: Angst, with the promise of future fluff

Warnings: Angst, I like making Azriel sad sorry, I also take the ‘mate talk’ in the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter and rewrite it to fit this story. I also haven’t read CC yet so apologies if Bryce is OOC Azriel x OC [not introduced in this part]

*Slight spoilers for the Azriel/Nesta/Bryce bonus chapter

Bryce turned to the fae female next to her, “You have a mate, don’t you?” Nesta simply nodded in response, a slight smile forming on her face, followed by a deep blush. “Do you?” The red head directed at Azriel.

Nesta’s stomach dropped. She knew it was a sore subject for the Shadowsinger. What with everyone else in his family being mated except for him-

“I do.” He said, a trace of apprehension in his voice. Nesta’s head snapped to face him so quickly that her vision spun for a moment, causing her to stumble.

Regaining her footing, she barked out, “Azriel? What the fuck do you mean?”

The trio stopped walking for a moment, tension settling over the once calm night air. She gave him a demanding, and slightly betrayed, look. Even though his eyes met hers, Azriel kept quiet. Bryce simply looked between the two, face wrinkling in the awkwardness of the moment.

“Ah. A sore subject, I guess?” Bryce laughed, or tried to, it only came out forced and uncomfortable. 

“Who, Az? How come I had no idea? Does anyone know?” There wasn’t anger in her voice, just hurt. 

He had to bite back his usual replies, the ones he gave to his family when they tried to ask questions or bring up the topic without him bringing it up first. Not that he ever did. 

“She’s-” he swallowed. Cauldron, when would he finally be able to talk about her without wishing the world would swallow him whole? “It’s not something I want to discuss right now, especially with present company.” He sent a pointed look at Bryce. He couldn’t hide the misery in his tone this time though as he took a deep breath and continued, “I will tell you about her, Nes. One day. I’d just rather do it on my own terms. On my own time.” Nesta opened her mouth, seconds away from arguing, when he put a hand on her shoulder, “Please.” he begged, softly. 

The glimmer of silver in his eyes caught her off guard, gave her such a knee jerk reaction of protectiveness that she gave him a crushing hug. It was strange, this feeling. Azriel, the broody, closed off, terrifying, annoyingly perceptive, kind, and unbelievably loving friend she never knew she needed had just revealed a part of himself she could tell he kept locked away for good reason. The thought that even the mention of his mate could bring him to tears made her heart break in a way she thought impossible after all she had been through. 

She took a deep breath as she pulled away, “When you’re ready,” she agreed.

He smiled back at her, while it was genuine, one of the few he reserved for his family, there was still insurmountable pain in his eyes. 

Nesta turned back to Bryce, “Can you play more of your music? Just none of that screaming one.” She asked, shaking her head at the memory of the Death Metal genre she hadn’t liked when the redhead had played it for them. 

She smiled softly as she felt Azriel squeeze her hand in a silent Thank you before he let go. 

The High Lord sat, feet propped up on his desk. “When do you head out for Rosehall?” He asked.

Azriel, standing by the window to the right of his brother, answered, “The morning after Solstice.” Rhysand grimaced when he heard the mask of indifference his Spy Master had in his voice. “I still need to pick up a gift before I go.”

Rhys took it for the invitation it was. “Would you buy her something from me? On my account this time.” He tried to put on his commanding-High-Lord voice as he said it, but he knew very well that Azriel wouldn’t listen to the last part of his request even as his brother smiled in agreement as he walked out of the room, sending an inclination of goodbye to his High Lady in the chair across from her mate. 

“Rosehall? What female is he visiting the day after Solstice?” Feyre spoke into her mate’s mind. 

Despite Rhys’ usual inability to keep anything from his mate, he couldn't bring himself to explain, couldn’t bring himself to cross the very clear lines his brother had set all those years ago. 

“It's not my story to tell. And don’t ask someone else, if any of them know, they also won’t talk.” 

Certainly not the answer she had expected, as was evident by the look on Feyre’s face.

“And if I ask Azriel?” she inquired.

“It will just bring up things he isn't ready to share. He will come to you- come to us- some day.” ‘One day’ Azriel had promised his family long ago, long before their family had been as big as it was now. “I just pray it's under better circumstances.” 

Feyre froze, feeling the weight of mixed negative emotions flowing down from her mate’s side of the bond. For once, she was even more confused after asking Rhysand for more information. 

“Well, I believe we’ve reached the threshold of faked amiability before one of us attacks the other. We should quit while we’re ahead.” Eris said as he stood up from his chair, starting to grab his papers without so much as a glance to his reluctant hosts. Even years after their alliance was set in stone with the agreement from the Night Court to back Eris’ claim to his father’s throne, even after fighting beside them in war, these faked niceties could only go on for so long before the claws came out. 

No one in the Night Court’s Inner circle could say there was anything but relief to see the Autumn Court’s High Lord walk away. But before they could let out a breath of relief, Eris stopped and turned to the Shadowsinger. 

“I have received word that your… gift has been finished. I will send someone to get it to you within the week.” 

Azriel’s head quickly snapped to Eris, “And they were able to meet all my requests?” He asked, not caring that everyone else in the room watched the interaction with fierce intrigue. 

The eldest living Vanserra boy scoffed, “I assured you they’d be able to.” Azriel let out a relieved breath at that. While he’d known Eris’ court capable of such a thing, it wasn’t much more difficult than lesser magics, but hearing it confirmed ignited hope he didn’t know he still carried.

“Thank you. She’ll love it.” The Spy Master replied earnestly, much to Eris’, as well as the rest of the Inner Circle’s, shock. 

The red haired fae simply schooled his features and nodded in response before winnowing away. 

Despite the heaviness all the secrets and questions caused, everyone remained silent as they watched Azriel slip out of the room. 

The dining room had been filled with loud chatter for the weekly family dinner. Love filled teasing and relentless jokes put everyone in a good mood. Nothing felt better to the Night Court’s Inner Circle than being all together. Unfortunately, it had to come to an end. 

“I’ll be leaving for a few days.” Azriel told Rhysand, who was sitting to his left at the head of the table. “I’ll be back for Solstice.” He quickly added. 

“I thought you were leaving the day after?” 

“I was, but the package I had been waiting on came, and I’d like to deliver it as soon as possible. I’ll drop your gift off too.” With that, Azriel got up, nodding a quick goodbye to his family, before disappearing into his shadows.

It wasn’t a request to have a few days off. He hadn’t asked if his High Lord could spare not having his Spymaster for a little. He didn’t even wait for any sort of goodbye from the rest of his family. He just left, the house sending his place setting away to be cleaned, as if he had never been there in the first place. 

Once again, everyone had questions, concerns, for their friend. But no one spoke up, as per usual. 

Until the one fae in the room with truly no information in the matter grew concerned enough with everyone’s immediate change in attitudes. 

“Where is he going?” Elain asked, looking between her friends and family. 

She saw on everyone's faces, in their eyes that refused to meet hers, that no one would tell her. Till she sent a look, full of concerned innocence, to Cassian. 

“Rosehall” He blurted out. “Or at least, I assume that's where he is going.” The last part was directed towards his older brother. 

“Where is this Rosehall?” Feyre asked, feeling he invitation Elain’s question had opened into the untouchable subject. 

The High Lady, like her second oldest sister, sent a look to Rhys, knowing he'd break for her under an embarrassingly small amount of pressure. 

“None of us know,” he gave in, “He goes at seemingly random intervals. Sometimes he’s there, often, for months. Then he will go quite a while without any visits.”

“Is it his mate? Is that who he is seeing?” Nesta inquires. 

The word seems to suck all the air out of the room. His mate. Azriel’s mate. Their brother’s mate.

Nesta’s stomach drops at the looks she receives from Cassian and Rhysand. 

They didn’t know. 

As she opens her mouth to speak, she’s cut off by a palm smacking the table.

“Enough! You all know damn well this isn’t what he would want. The only reason you all seem so comfortable talking about it is because he's gone, too preoccupied to leave a shadow behind.” Mor argues. “He has asked one thing of us in the 500 years he has been by our side, to let him- let them- be.”

With that, she winnowed out of the room, leaving a suffocating mix of guilt, confusion, and concern behind. 

Everyone could feel his presence the second he got back to the house. The light and happy Solstice air seemed to vanish in an instant. The shadows suddenly alive and wreathing. 

Rhys and Cassian had gotten up to check on their brother. While he had said he’d be gone till Solstice, they had assumed he would be there the full day to celebrate with everyone. But he had missed celebrations, for both Solstice and Feyre’s birthday, had missed dinner, and had sent no indication that he was even alive. His mental walls had been as fortified as ever, not letting Rhysand nor Feyre in the numerous times they had tried to check in. 

Their walk over to their brother’s room became a run, followed by the rest of the family, as they heard a loud crash. 

The room was dark, but they could make out the faint outline of the broken mirror and Shadowsinger standing in front of it, holding his hand as blood seemed to drip from a wound. In the dark, the sight was unsettling, but in the light, it was far worse. 

Cassian moved quickly, leaving Rhysand and the rest of the Inner Circle by the door in stunned silence. 

“Woah-” Cassian said as he lifted Azriel’s hand, causing his brother to pull back in startled shock. He hadn’t known they were coming. Hadn’t sensed their presence even then they were right in front of him.

“It’s okay, Az. But we need to clean out the wound. Make sure there aren't any shards in-” The general stopped as he looked at the Spymaster, seeing the tears streaming down his usually stone cold face. 

All he could do was help him sit down as Mor, seemingly better equipped to handle the situation, came over to kneel in front of her long time friend. 

“Az?” She took his uninjured hand in hers, her other hand going to his face to wipe away the tears. “Come on, maybe you shoul-”

“She’s gotten worse.” He admitted, his voice noticeably wobbling, “So much worse, Mor.” 

Mor quickly looked at everyone else, seeing the shock, the empathy, and worse of all, the pity. She knew more than the others, not the full story, not even close, but enough to know that their reactions were part of why he kept all of it a secret. He couldn’t handle their emotions on top of his.

By the time she looked back, she saw that Azriel had noticed it too. She could see him shrinking back into himself, trying to hide everything. 

She couldn’t let it happen again. 

“Let me in, Azriel. Don’t pretend, don’t go through 200 more years of this.” She pleaded. Luckily, this seemed to pull him back out. “Let us all in, please?”

“I can’t- I don’t want pity.” He admitted.

Rhysand spoke up this time. “Is that what you think this is? Just pity? Az, come on. We all love you, we want you to be happy. But we don’t want fake happiness. Seeing you like this makes us all upset, because we love you. Please, let us prove it. Let us in.” Rhysand begged. 

Azriel gave them all a onceover, emotion showing so clearly in his face, in his eyes, that no one seemed to be able to breathe. 

He took a deep breath before speaking up, “Tomorrow. I’ll explain- show you all, tomorrow. For now, I’d just like to celebrate Solstice, and your birthday, Feyre, with my family.” 

The air lightened up a little bit at the promise. Tomorrow, they’d all face what Azriel had been dealing with alone for 200 years. But tonight, they would all celebrate Solstice, the return of light and promise of a brighter future, as a family. 

[enwoso]

Could you write something maybe about Lucy Bronze having a younger sister that plays for Arsenal and she’s been dating Katie McCabe for a while but hasn’t told Lucy because she’s very overprotective and because of Lucy and Katie’s unspoken “rivalry” . Then at lionesses camp Lucy finds out by accident and they are playing Ireland next so the match is all a bit of chaos but the it all turns out fine and Katie and Lucy both just tease reader together?

Your work is amazing by the way!!

GAME OF HEARTS | katie mccabe x bronze!reader

masterlist

"i'm really gonna miss ya" katie spoke softly as the two of you soaked up your last morning together before you both went off on international camp.

you wrapped up in the warmth of katie's arms as every so often she peppered kisses along your collarbone, your eyes still closed as you hummed along to her words every so often to show you were listening.

"babe, i'll see you in four days" you rasped out as you moved slightly to turning so that you were facing the irish women as you could feel her chest rise up and down as you lay on it.

the two of you due to play each other in the upcoming fixtures, england travelling to ireland for the game. you being a little upset having to play against your girlfriend but it was only for 90' and then you could go back to being in your little love bubble.

"still- am i not allowed to miss my gorgeous, funny, beautiful, sexy girlfriend?" katie said with a her signature grin on her face as you opened your eyes, staring right back at the girl.

"your such a sap-" you whispered as she placed a kiss to your cheek, playfully rolling her eyes at your comment.

"yeah but only for you, and plus you love it little bronze" katie teased as now it was your turn to roll your eyes as she knew how much the nickname wound you up, lucy of course being the one who so proudly began the trend of calling you by that it was now something majority called you at international camps as well as by some of the girls at club level.

"oh actually" you paused for a second to let out a yawn, as katie moved a strand of hair from the side of your face tucking it behind your ear.

"please can we knock it down a level when it comes to my sister when we play against each other on tuesday" you pleaded, as a small glint in your eyes as you tried to convince the girl knowing the chaos which occurs in the league when the two come face to face.

you know it's just what happens when two very passionate players bump heads but you heard both versions of the story and adding fuel to that fire by telling your older sister that you were dating her arch nemesis may not go very well with a tray of cakes and a nice chat to say the least.

a sigh left katie's lips she understood why you were asking cause at the end of the day lucy was your older sister — someone you looked up to dearly and someone who protected you at all costs and she herself would do anything for any one of her sisters but katie also had a goal and that was to win.

"baby, i love ya but that's like askin' me to wear a tottenham shirt" katie grimaced at the thought of that even happening, it sending a slight shiver down your own spine.

—

being lucy's younger sister definitely came with its perks, like when lucy was first making her debuts you got to meet all the cool footballing idols you watched growing up and to be totally honest you were still able to do it now.

but on the other hand, she was still your sister. fiercely protective, sometimes too protective, and of course you always had your disagreements as well as the fact lucy knew all the ways to get under your skin. she was the typical big sister.

but when it came to football? she always had an opinion. especially when it involved arsenal and a certain player from there too. which just of course happened to be your girlfriend — katie.

the two of you had been together for just over seven months. you were keeping things quiet, it was a secret by no means you just hadn't exactly admitted to being in a relationship with the irish girl.

and as for your excuse for not telling lucy, well it just had never came up in a conversation.

so as camp rolled around and the upcoming friendly against ireland loomed in the next few days, you knew you had to be careful. but keeping secrets while sharing the same pitch as your sister, that was proving to be harder than you thought.

as you sat with a few teammates in the lounge area, scrolling through your phone and trying to mind your own business as lucy strode in.

her arrival as always was impossible to ignore, her energy filling the space effortlessly and her voice carried above the casual chatter.

"oi, y/n" lucy called out, waving something on her phone in the air a slight mischievous glint in her eye, "what's this, then?"

you glanced up, already dreading whatever was coming, knowing she loved to find some thing to take the mick out of you for.

lucy flopped down next to you as she thrusted her phone into your hands. it was a video posted by katie, to her story captioned 'reminiscing🩷', reliving a moment from a festival she'd gone to in the summer, you recognising it immediately as you were there two.

"i.. what am i looking at?"

"just wait"

just as the words left lucy's lips, the video flipped as the camera had been turned to face katie and that when your eyes went a little wider and your cheeks definitely went a little redder.

there was you, your arms wrapped around her waist as you head rested on her shoulder a lovesick smile on your face as you sung along to the music as katie had a massive smile on her face.

lucy squinted at you as you lowered her phone keeping it still in your hands, as her brow furrowed. "care to explain why you're looking at katie mccabe like she's just won you the world cup?"

your stomach lurched, you were usually so careful but this was clear as day as you scrambled to downplay it. "come on luce, you know we're close at club level your just being dramatic. we're just teammates"

lucy tilted her head, clearly not convinced, "a teammate thing?" she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "that's not the ‘teammate' look. that's the 'i fancy you' look"

you opened your mouth to try and protest but nothing came out. your brain working overtime trying to figure out how to talk your way out of this when leah wandered into the room.

spotting lucy's phones in your hand, glancing at your panicked face and grinned knowingly. "oh has she found out then?" leah said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "took you long enough!"

lucy's eyes darted between you and leah, "found out what?"

"leah, shut up" you hissed shooting her a warning glare.

leah just completely ignoring you as she continued, "about katie, it's not exactly a secret anymore y/n. everyone with eyes can see there something going on between the two of you and i don't mean by just watching that small video on instagram-"

lucy's expression shifted from teasing to something more serious, as she leaned back slightly her arms crossed. "wait you and katie? that's.. actually a thing. i though they were just silly tiktok rumours?"

you hesitated, fiddling nervously with the hem of your hoodie. "yeah" you admitted not daring to look at your sisters gaze. "it's been a while, i didn't tell you because well — i didn't want to make thing weird. you and katie don't exactly.. get along"

lucy stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable before she let out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing. "weird? y/n i know i might be protective but i'm not a monster and that's just match banter. if she makes you happy then that's all that matters."

you blinked, slightly surprised at her sudden acceptance, "really, your okay with it?"

lucy smirked as she nodded, "yeah, but don't think i'm going easy on her when we play against ireland. she's still getting crunched in the tackles-"

you let out a small groan, "lucy!" as a chorus of laughter came from your sister, "i'm kidding.. well maybe." she whispered at the end but you still heard.

you laughed along, the weight suddenly lifting from your chest, as leah who had been watching the entire exchange with an amused grin, chimed in clapping her two hands together, "well that went better than expected!"

lucy raised an eyebrow at her, "don't think you're off the hook either williamson, if you knew and didn't tell me, your just as bad as her!"

leah held up her hands in mock surrender, "hey i figured it out myself, and plus it ain't my business and it was way more fun watchin' y/n squirm!"

you groaned as you buried your face in your hands as lucy and leah shared a laugh at your expense. but despite their teasing you couldn't help but feel relieved.

—

the match had ended in ireland, and the tensions from the ninety minute game between the players had melted away into the usual camaraderie of the post game routine.

players from both teams chatting, swapping shirts and taking photo as they celebrated another memorable clash as england had won, securing there space in the euros in switzerland.

katie and lucy were stood near the center circle, locking into a playful debate. from a distance you could see katie gesturing animatedly whilst lucy stood with her arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly on her lips.

curiosity and a little apprehension pulled you towards them, "what's going on here?" you as as you approached.

"oh just discussing which side of london is superior" katie said with a cheeky grin, titling her head slightly towards lucy. "you know london is better red, i'm sure you agree"

lucy scoffed, rolling her eyes, "please mccabe, london is blue on a whole different level."

"yeah yeah," katie said with a dramatic wave of her hand, "you guys are ok, i'll give you that but people who have a good sense of football know which is the better side of london"

lucy smirked, leaning forward slightly. "shame you picked the wrong side of it then."

katie gasped, clutching her chest in mock horror, "the wrong side? you mean the side which had trophies and the history to back it up?"

you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose knowing the two of them well enough to know neither of them were going to back down, "you two realise you're both ridiculous, right?"

ignoring you, katie pulled her phone out of her pocket. "we should document this moment, don't you think" she waved lucy closer, "cmon bronze, let's get a picture. and maybe one day you'll see the light and come to the proper side of london"

lucy rolled her eyes but stepped in next to katie, you stood awkwardly nearby as katie held out her phone for a selfie the pair throwing exaggerated smiles.

right as the photo snapped, katie nudged lucy with her elbow and said, "awe that's a cute photo to. shame you play for the wrong side of london."

lucy snorted, glancing at the photo, "your lucky i don't delete this right now."

katie grinned, "it's fine, just caption it: 'the day bronze met greatness!'"

lucy laughed, shaking her head, "greatness? that's rich coming from someone who can't even make it past the quarterfinals in the champions league-"

katie gasped, turning to you, "babe you better defend me and the club now or i'm tellin' everyone you still steal my hoodies!"

you threw your hands up in exasperation a small laugh coming from your lips, "oh no don't drag me into this. you both know where my loyalty's lie."

"your sisters impossible, you know that? she doesn't appreciate brilliance." katie leaned against you dramatically sighing.

lucy raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying herself, "brilliance? that's what they call it these days?"

katie tolled her eyes playfully as you just laughed, following the two of them as they both started to walk towards the tunnel. along with other players starting to make their way of the pitch.

katie had that familiar glint in her eye, the one that softened your heart no matter how chaotic the game had been.

"i'm goin' to go catch up the ma team," katie said as she reached out to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind you ear.

her touch was gentle and calm unlike her totally opposite persona on the field. a smile lingering on your face despite the lingering adrenaline from the match.

she leaned in, pressing a quick but soft kiss to your lips as she whispered, "i love you."

you heart swelled as you whispered it back, "i love you, too"

katie turned as she waved to your older sister as she star tee d to walk away, "see you soon bronze! don't miss me too much!"

lucy just shook her head muttering something under her breath as katie disappeared towards the irish team.

"what was that?" you asked an eyebrow raising as you turned to her.

lucy huffed, crossing her arms, "i said i don't think i’ll ever get used to that."

you laughed nudging your older sisters shoulder playfully, "you'll have to she's not going anywhere luce!"

katie fully disappearing in the tunnel as she turned a corner as lucy tuned to you with a grin, but it wasn't the usually teasing one.

"i like her." she said pausing for effect, "but she's still completely wrong about london."

you laughed shaking your head, "i don't think she's ever going to stop trying to convince you and it's two against one. london is red."

"your both wrong.." lucy said with a smirk, "but besides that i think she's good for you." you smiled softly "thanks, luce."

lucy clapped you on the shoulder, her usual teasing grin returning. "now come on. let's go find some post-match food before mccabe comes back and starts another argument."

you laughed, following her into the tunnel, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief. katie and lucy might still have their friendly battles, but they were your battles now, filled with teasing and love from the two most important people in your life.

[rafedarling]

Maybe a Drew x fem famous reader, when Drew accidentally walks out of a store holding a drink he didn’t pay for.You: “DREW, YOU JUST STOLE THAT.” Drew panicking “I THOUGHT I BOUGHT IT.”Cue him running back inside, dramatically throwing cash at the cashier, and apologizing way too much.

𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥

pairing: drew starkey x famous!reader

summary: a peaceful coffee run takes an unexpected turn when drew, in all his distracted glory, accidentally walks out of a store with a drink he didn’t pay for. cue sheer panic, a dramatic redemption arc, and you trying not to laugh as your boyfriend over-apologizes to a very confused cashier.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, drew being an adorable mess, secondhand embarrassment, and an excessive amount of apologizing.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore

i actually kinda bored so it would be great if we talk, you can send me anything through here → 💌 (will reply later, i had to charge my phone now :0)

Your and Drew morning had started off perfectly.

You and Drew had just wrapped up a long press tour, and finally, a lazy day together was in order. Hoodies, sunglasses, and a quick coffee run, so simple, right?

Well… almost.

You held Drew’s hand as you both walked into the small coffee shop, a place that had become a quiet favorite of yours over the past few months. It wasn’t too crowded, the baristas were nice, and most importantly, they made the best iced vanilla lattes.

Drew was half-distracted, scrolling through his phone with his free hand, probably checking a text from his agent.

Meanwhile, you stepped up to the counter, ordering your usual and Drew’s preferred cold brew. He grinned at you, pocketing his phone and wrapping an arm around your shoulder while the barista rang you up.

The moment the drinks were placed on the counter, you thanked the barista, grabbed your cup, and turned to Drew, expecting him to do the same. Except—

He was already walking out the door.

With his drink.

That he did not pay for.

Your eyes widened as you called after him.

“DREW, YOU JUST STOLE THAT.”

Drew, mid-sip, froze in place.

His blue eyes widened in sheer horror as he turned to look at you, then at the store, then at the drink in his hand. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“I THOUGHT I BOUGHT IT.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as he stood there, looking like a deer caught in headlights. The barista behind the counter blinked at him, half-amused, half-confused.

“Babe,” you whispered through your giggles, walking toward him.

“You didn’t even take out your wallet.”

Drew’s face turned a shade of pink you rarely saw.

“Oh my god. Oh. my god.”

His voice came out in panicked whispers before he turned on his heel and sprinted, actually sprinted back inside.

What happened next would be forever etched into your memory.

Drew dramatically dug into his pocket, pulled out a handful of bills, and threw them onto the counter.

“I AM SO SORRY,” he announced, as if he had just committed a grand felony.

“I SWEAR I DIDN’T MEAN TO—I WAS JUST—I GOT DISTRACTED AND—”

The barista, bless his soul, simply nodded.

“Happens all the time, dude.”

But Drew wasn’t done.

“I SWEAR I’M NOT A CRIMINAL.”

You lost it.

You actually doubled over laughing, tears pricking at your eyes as Drew continued his over-apologizing spree. The poor barista just gave him a thumbs-up, clearly unsure of what to do with the sixteen dollars Drew had thrown at him for a four-dollar drink.

“Baby,” you wheezed, stepping beside him.

“I think they forgive you.”

Drew exhaled dramatically, running a hand through his hair as if he had just survived a life-threatening event. He turned to you with a sheepish expression.

“I panicked.”

You wrapped an arm around his waist, grinning up at him.

“I noticed.”

He groaned, hiding his face in your hair.

“I can never come back here again.”

The barista, who was definitely going to tell this story later… cleared his throat.

“No worries, man. I’ll just put a ‘Wanted’ poster up with your face.”

You cackled as Drew shot him a look of pure betrayal.

“Bro, don’t do me like that.”

Still laughing, you tugged on Drew’s hoodie, pulling him toward the door.

“Come on, Bonnie, let’s go before you accidentally commit another crime.”

Drew huffed but followed you, his arm slung lazily around your shoulders as you walked back to the car. He glanced down at you, a lopsided smile playing on his lips.

“You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

You smirked.

“Not a chance, Clyde.”

And with that, the legend of Drew Starkey: Accidental Criminal was born.