#thought better of it; and walked away to eat her dinner
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the-city-kitty · 15 hours ago
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I probably will elaborate more at some point but in lieu of that for now pls accept my humble offering of a scene with no real context.
Maria stopped short, peering through the tree line. Trekking through the woods was slow going, but they figured it would be better to stay just out of sight of the roads but not too far that they couldn’t see anyone coming up behind them. But it was taxing nonetheless if the way her stomach suddenly seized up and cramped just at the sight of the building in the distance was any indication.
“Maria?” Shadow looked up at her, curious as to why she’d stopped moving.
“There’s a roadside diner up over there,” she said. She pointed her chin vaguely in its direction, guiding Shadow’s eye line.
His brow furrowed.
“You haven’t had any food since dinner, and that was before the….” Shadow trailed off seeing the solemn look on her face. She was still looking somewhat longingly at the building in the distance.
“You should go in and get yourself something. And it will be good for you to sit and rest for a while. Don’t worry about me, I can stay hidden out here. I can even scout back and make sure we’re not being followed.”
Maria just shook her head.
“One big problem with that idea,” she made a show of digging her hands into the pockets of her stolen jeans and turning them out, showing off just how empty they were. “No money, no food. Let’s just keep going.” She started off again only to be stopped when Shadow grabbed her arm.
“Maria, you need to eat. Can’t you just… what’s that phrase?”
“You mean ‘dine and dash?’ I guess I could” she considered. “That’s if I don’t get turned away right at the door.”
“Why would they turn you away?” Shadow asked sincerely. Maria pointed down at her muddy and dirt caked feet.
“No shoes. It’s a whole thing, ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service.’”
“Hm,” Shadow grunted. He thought for a moment. “… I may have a solution.”
*-*-*
Walking out from the tree line, Maria blinked as her eyes adjusted from the relative darkness of the trees to the harsh brightness of the rural Oklahoma landscape. Shadow’s clunky air shoes fit poorly on her feet and she more so trudged rather than walked up to the diner as she tried to get used to them.
The building itself didn’t look like a diner, and she probably wouldn’t have known it was one if not for the incredibly large hand painted sign propped up on wooden posts declaring it as such. From the outside it just looked like a farmhouse, and it probably was one once upon a time.
It had a second floor, probably where the proprietor lives, that had its own entrance accessible via a wooden staircase. On the opposite side was the garage and an old beat up truck parked in the driveway. The “yard” was big enough to serve as a parking area, but currently there weren’t any cars parked out front.
The jingle of a bell attached over the front door signaled Maria’s entrance. Even if it hadn’t, the metal in the soles of Shadow’s shoes made a very obvious clunking sound against the linoleum floors of the diner’s interior. She couldn’t help cringing at the sound. So much for trying to make a stealthy escape when she’s done here. Luckily the sound didn’t seem to draw the attention of the only other diner in the room. The man stayed resolutely focused on his sandwich.
Just about the only parts that made the diner seem like, well, a diner was the linoleum floor and the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room. The tables and chairs seem to have been collected from all over, not a one matching the other. She supposed it made sense for a place this far out in the sticks.
Behind the counter was an older woman watching a tiny rabbit ear tv set up next to the cash register. The woman gave Maria a sideways glance as she walked up to the counter.
“What can I get for ya?” She drawled.
“Um, can I get toast, with scrambled eggs and ham please? And a glass of orange juice?” Her order placed, Maria started to look for a seat closer to the door.
“Young lady?” The woman’s voice interrupted search. Maria turned back to her and was pinned to the spot by the way the woman was looking her up and down.
“Do you think I don’t recognize a runaway when I see one? I know you don’t have money.”
Maria struggled to defend herself;
“I’m not- technically I- I’m not a- okay no I can’t pay but I’m really hungry so maybe I could do something to repay you instead? Like, um, I could wash the dishes for you?” She finished weakly.
“Whose dish? Yours?” The woman scoffed, gesturing vaguely at the mostly empty room. The man still wasn’t paying attention to their conversation.
“I’m not gonna go bankrupt feeding one runaway girl, so sit down. I just didn’t want to watch you scramble out the door and make a fool of yourself.”
The tension whooshed out of Maria, who sat down at the counter now that she didn’t have to ‘scramble out the door and make a fool of herself.’ She occupied herself by watching the little tv on the counter while the owner made her food. There wasn’t anything particularly entertaining on, just a local news station, but it was something. Occasionally she glanced out the window, searching for a spot of red against the endless beige. Shadow remained hidden, just as he promised her he would, but he’d also said he’d stick close by to watch out for trouble.
The plate of food landed in front of her, along with her juice. Maria just barely contained herself from shoveling it all into her mouth, she really was hungry.
Maria ate and sipped and listened to the weatherman drone on. She was already starting to feel some of her energy come back to her, and soon she and Shadow would be on their way again. Speaking of….
“Excuse me ma’am,” she said politely. “But do you know how far it is to the nearest town?”
“About five miles west.”
Maria nodded.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a map, would you?”
“Sorry, sweetie, afraid I don’t. I think you’ll be able to get along without one for now though,” she looked over Maria’s shoulder. “Excuse me a moment.”
Beside Maria, the other customer walked up to the register.
“Are you ready sir?” asked the owner.
“Why yes.” He replied.
“How did you find everything?”
“I think I got what I needed.”
Maria didn’t pay too much attention to the niceties of their transaction, instead turning back to the last few bites of her food. The directions she got were vague but at least it was something. Hopefully she can find a map in town, which if she wants them to get there before dark she better start heading off too. She’ll say her thank you and goodbye just as soon as the other customer has left.
But he’s… really taking his time with finishing up the transaction.
‘Doesn’t this guy have someplace to get to?’
‘How’s he gonna get there?’
Heat prickled the back of Maria’s neck and all the way down her spine. Her breakfast threatened to come back up. Out of the corner of her eye she finally looked at the only other customer in a roadside diner with no other cars parked outside.
Just as soon as she’d bodily launched herself away from the counter, fully intending to make a foolish scramble for the door, she was held in place by the unmistakable click of a hammer being pulled back.
The man, the agent, had a pistol aimed at her. Behind the counter, his partner produced a sawed-off and pointed it in her direction as well. Maria put her hands up.
“Now, Miss Robotnik, let’s not do anything rash,” the man said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then why do you have a gun pointed at me?” Her voice came out wobbly and childish. Her eyes were hot.
He glanced at his weapon, seemingly considering it for a moment before he shrugged and laid it down on the counter. A bit of an empty gesture considering his partner was still pointing the shot gun.
From his pocket he produced a pack a cigarettes and a book of matches. He stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it, taking a drag before he continued:
“You know, I always thought it was reckless and irresponsible for Gerald to bring you around everywhere with him like he did. If he really loved you he woulda kept you somewhere far away from all this nonsense.”
“Don’t talk about my grandpa like that!” She said, incensed.
He picked up his gun again. He didn’t point it at her again, but she still went stiff.
“Your grandpa is the reason you’re more afraid of these things,” he gesticulated with the gun, “than that monster he let sleep in the same room as you. That thing? That thing is actually dangerous. You’re wearing those fancy shoes Gerald made for it, so it’s gotta be close by. All I want is for you to tell me where.” He puts his gun back down and gestured for his partner to lower her weapon as well. Her eyes remained steely even as she did.
“No. I won’t. You’re wrong.” Maria argued. “You’re wrong about Shadow. I’m not some stupid little girl, I know he’s powerful but that doesn’t mean he’s dangerous. He wouldn’t turn his power on anybody. He wouldn’t.”
“‘Won’t’ is not the same thing as ‘can’t,’ sweetheart.” He replied patronizingly. “It was that power that killed your grandfather.”
Maria swallowed hard as bile rose up in her throat again. She didn’t say anything back. The man smiled ruefully.
“Ahh, that was a little mean, but I just want you to understand the situation here. Like I said, we don’t want to hurt you, hell, agent Margot here has shown you some good hospitality here, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well the eggs were a little under salted,” she snips.
“Hmm, was it that lightning wit that made Gerald favor you over your cousin?”
Maria blinked, she hadn’t heard about Ivo in years. What did he have to do with anything?
“You know he’s in a foster home in Cincinnati? No, you probably didn’t know that. But, we pull the right strings we can get the two of you placed in a good home together. Isn’t that something that you want, Maria? To be with your real family? That alien is going to bring you nothing but trouble, we can protect you, Maria.”
Maria fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot.
“I- I-I don’t,” she stammered. “I don’t know what to do.” She let her face screw up, a couple of tears leaked out.
“It’s going to be alright, Maria,” the agent said. “All you have to do is tell us where it is.”
“I- He’s…” she looked past both agents, over their shoulders. “No, Shadow! Don’t!” She shouted. Both agents turned and pointed their guns at the empty air behind them. Maria kicked her right leg out as hard as she could and was rewarded when the ill-fitting shoe flew off her foot just as she hoped it would. Although she had definitely been aiming for the agent’s head, the shoe overshot, sailing over both agents and instead tipping a pan full of oil over on the stove, right onto the still lit burners.
‘Maybe Margot shouldn’t have been so committed to her hospitality.’
There was a loud whoosh and a blast of heat. The flames rose up swiftly and hungrily. They quickly caught onto the wooden ceiling.
While the agents were stunned Maria turned, making a break for the door. But the imbalance with only one shoe threw her off, and she fell. She quickly picked herself back up, she glanced behind her to see if the agents were aware of her escape attempt, but they were already gone. They must’ve fled out another exit only they knew about. She made to start running again, but between one blink and the next, she was out of the oppressive heat of the burning building and back outside, yards away.
She knew she could always count on him.
“We have to go!”
He nodded in agreement.
“One moment.” He blinked out of existence and just as quickly reappeared tugging his right shoe back into place. Maria starts taking off the left to give it back to him just as there’s a distant crack, and something whizzes by and impacts the dirt just behind them. She screamed when another followed soon after. Still missing but definitely closer that time.
The two agents were giving chase in the beat up truck from the house. Agent Margot leaned out the passenger window with her shotgun.
“Go!” Shadow yelled.
They ran back towards the tree line where there would be more cover, and while luckily neither of them fell the imbalance was making it hard for either of them to run at full speed. Bullets pelted the ground behind them. Each one getting closer to hitting than the last.
Shadow grabbed onto Maria’s right hand.
“Three-legged race!” To anyone else it would sound like he was spewing nonsense, but Maria understood him instantly. She tightened her grip on his hand, making sure it was secure. They surged forward, synchronizing their steps until her left was moving at the same time as his right. Sure, she was a little more used to doing this in roller skates, but as the air shoes activated she found the feeling wasn’t all that different. It was just skating on air.
With a burst of speed that left yellow light trails in their wake the two zipped through the tree line. The roar of the engine and the sound of gunfire faded into the distance as Shadow and Maria raced off, leaving the agents in the dust.
ah fuck it now I’m kinda cooking with this Maria Lives au (actual name tbd) because yeah to a certain extent it’s mostly just what amount of shenanigans a 14 year old girl and a superpowered alien hedgehog can get up to living on the road on the run from the government but after that last ask I’m like, “wait, Ivo would be like 12 at this time” soooo like…… two genius cousins (cuz I refuse to believe that Maria got skipped out on being just as smart as her grandfather and cousin) and a superpowered hedgehog confidently bumble their way into taking down GUN? Somehow?
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thevaudevillescene · 4 months ago
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my actual child, whom i birthed and raised.
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murderofravens · 1 month ago
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THIEF
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pairing: the salesman x fem!reader
summary: he looked harmless enough. you should've known you were stealing from the wrong man.
warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON CON ELEMENTS but no actual smut, father issues, talks of abusive past (reader ran away from home) physical and verbal abuse, slapping, hitting and all that. age gap because of course, its my fic afterall. he's fucked up. that's it. read at your own risk.
A/N: shoutout to @muntitled for her incredible salesman fics and for inspiring me to start writing again. you're awesome.
prequel to VIOLATE
MASTERLIST
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the station seems colder today. your eyes twitch as you look around, analysing the people waiting for their next train. a woman sitting on a bench, reading. a few college students who probably are in more debt than you. a homeless man mumbling incoherently to himself while trying to light a match. a group of teenage boys laughing at something on their phone— you make a mental note to stay away from that side, for the sake of your own safety. the lightbulb flickers as you take a seat on the dirty floor, contemplating your options. that woman looks a good enough target— but with the layers of clothes she's got on, you don't believe you'll have any luck with her.
you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. you don't look up, merely focusing your gaze on the floor and pretending to be lost in thought. you've learned it's much easier to get away with pickpocketing if you don't immediately look at the person you're stealing from. something about not looking suspicious. a pair of shiny dress shoes stand by the train tracks— and you allow your gaze to trail up, up, up. this man has some long legs, you think to yourself. a crisp, stoney gray suit, and broad shoulders. a briefcase in hand and a seemingly innocent gaze looking around.
someone financially stable, judging by the expensive watch on his wrist. on first glance, you decide he looks like the kind of man who would be too tired or bored to run after you if he caught you in the act.
he'll be paying for your dinners for atleast a week.
as you stand up casually, you spot your target put on a charming smile and walk over to where the homeless man is warming his hands. you can't hear the conversation because the man's back is turned to you, but you can tell he is trying to advertise something to him. he opens his briefcase, and you catch sight of bundles of cash in it. you feel your heartbeat immediately picking up. your body feels warmer now; imagining a bright future for yourself if you managed to get a hand on the briefcase.
you don't bother eavesdropping in the conversation, you have other priorities. luckily, the woman on the bench was reading with her legs spread forward. you take the opportunity and stumble over her feet, losing your footing and falling forward with a loud cry— crashing right into your target who stumbles forward onto the homeless guy who lets out a string of curses.
"watch where you're fucking going!" he yells, and you're sure the woman behind you called you a fucking nutjob as well.
apologizing profusely, you put on your best sheepish expression and pat your target's back, helping him up. he looks at you strangely, giving you a tight lipped smile, and when you slip out his wallet from his back pocket, he doesn't seem to notice. before you can get a hand on the briefcase, he tugs it back and guides it towards the homeless man, engaging in another conversation with him. you're quick to walk away without another glance, swearing to yourself on your missed opportunity. but you suppose a wallet is better than nothing.
the first thing you do is run out and aim towards a crowded area you can disappear into. you open the wallet and pull out some cash— no identification, no credit cards. just a simple paper card with some symbols on it. it makes you wince. you thought with atleast an address or a name, you could've robbed him, but the universe seems to fucking hate you.
you eat some noodles from a street vendor. it's one of your favourites. in moments like these, you miss home. but you figure that having to steal and feed yourself is better than always having to walk on eggshells around your father— wondering when the next hit might come. or what other aspect of you would he decide to fixate on till you start hating yourself. you were tired of that life. this is okay, you'll deal with it.
it's when you're walking back to that rusty apartment you've started calling home that you feel a strange, prickling sensation on your back. so far, you always wondered if what people said was true— that you can tell when you're being watched. right now, you can feel it— this strange, unsettling fear that something is following you. you abruptly look behind, but there's no one there. you consider taking a short cut— but decide it's the stupidest thing you could do, so you just run home as fast as you can and hope whoever it is, doesn't catch you.
you feel victorious as you open the door to your place. as you step inside, something kicks you in the back of your knees and you yelp before falling forward, right on your face.
"what the fuck!?" you shriek breathlessly, scared out of your mind as you lean on your elbows and try to sit up. there's a haunting shadow blocking your doorway, and you can feel your heart begin to pound nervously as you spot the man from the station.
"you look at home down there," he says calmly, accent heavy in his voice. "rightful place for a thief like you."
your voice is stuck in your throat— eyes wide as you let out sharp, heavy breaths. does he know? how long has he been following you? did he involve the police? what is he going to do?
"listen, man." you start shakily, sitting up, "i don't know what you're talking about—"
as you try to stand again, his foot comes up and collides with your shoulder, sending you to the floor again, "fuck!—"
he doesn't let you up as you lay against the floor, his shoe painfully digging into your collarbone, "not only did you sabotage my job tonight, but you also stole from me. i don't like thieves—"
"i hadn't eaten in days!" you cry out, a hand coming up to grab onto his leg, eyes pleading with him to have some sympathy. you really try. "i'll— i can pay you back—"
"by stealing from someone else?" he asks, amused.
"no! god—" you let out a choked breath. you're scared out of your damn mind, it's obvious, but more so because the violence and humiliation you're facing now is what you ran away from home to avoid. you don't want this man to violate you. you're tired of being scared. "i can— i can do a job! anything! ill work for you or- or— i'm sorry, please—"
the man takes joy in your cries, it's obvious in the amusement in his eyes. he's enjoying the way you stumble over your words and make a fool of yourself. but after a moment of begging, he pulls his leg back and gives you a moment to breathe. you sit up, choking on heavy breaths, holding onto your shoulder.
"let's play a game."
you look up at him with bloodshot eyes— barely holding back tears. his hand twitches.
you're shaking. this man just had his foot on your shoulder, and he wants to play a game?
when he doesn't get a response from you, he continues, "it's called ddakji. if you win, i'll give you cash." he opens the briefcase, smiles sinisterly as your eyes land on the object of your desires. "i saw you watching it, back at the station. such a shame your little plan didn't work, no?"
you grit your teeth, looking away from his taunting eyes. "and if i lose?"
"then i get to slap you."
your head snaps up— breathing getting heavy again. is this really what your life has come to? is it really worth it? you're back to square one— perhaps, you could leave your home, but the violence will always follow. the realization of your fate has a tear rolling down your cheek. you really try to sound tough when you gather the courage to speak again. "and why would i do that?"
"because you're desperate," he says calmly, leaning forward to brush the tear away with his thumb. the action has your heart fluttering for just a moment— many men have made you cry, but not one of them have ever wiped the tears. it's stupid. he quirks an eyebrow, settling you with a blank stare that shakes you to your core. "what have you got to lose, anyway?"
he's right, you think. would you rather take a few slaps and then live your life independently? or would you choose to live in fear about when you'd be on the receiving end of your father's wrath again?
you choose the former.
he explains the concept of the game and you get to choose the color of your tile— you pick the red one because it's your favourite color. with as much strength as you can, you try to flip his tile, but it merely jumps and then lands back like it was. it sends your heart plummeting down your stomach.
you know well what's coming next— it's all you've ever known your whole life. you flinch as his hand raises, but he stops midway. you tremble violently, eyeing his palm nervously. he eyes you curiously for a while, before another twisted smile appears on his face.
"you ever get hit before?" he asks, voice taunting. you swallow hard. "boyfriend?" he pushes his hand closer, making you flinch again. "ah, i know— father."
before you can snap at him, his hand collides with your cheek, making you let out a sharp cry. your face twists to the side and you take a deep breath— try to console yourself. it's just a game. he's not doing it out of malice. false promises.
you bite down on your lower lip to avoid calling him a fucking dickhead and telling him to rot.
he just smiles as he goes next. you pray to the gods he doesn't flip your tile— and thankfully, he doesn't. it makes you sigh in relief as he tosses a bundle of cash at your feet. you bend down to pick it up, "oh my god, thank you, thank you—"
he tsks, shaking his head, "game isn't over."
you go another round, and you win. you cheer heartily as you get another bundle of the cash tossed at your feet— and he sighs to himself. suddenly this game seems better.
you try to use your previous technique to flip his tile, and it doesn't work. it earns you another slap. it doesn't get better— you get as many slaps as you do cash. tears roll down your sore cheeks— they're heated and they hurt. you feel faint. only you know how much strength it takes to keep standing. you're sure your face will bruise tomorrow. he doesn't stop until you have half the cash from his briefcase. you can't hold back your sobs— you don't know what you're crying for. the cash, or the slaps? both, perhaps.
"you did good," he says, stepping forward and invading your personal space. his hands are warm as he cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears. you try to pull your face away, but one warning glare from him has you frozen in place. "look on the bright side, you decided to steal from me today and you earned some money. even if it came with a little beating. but you took it like a good girl, didn't you?"
his words should have you convulsing. you should be kicking him in the balls and hitting him with the nearest object you can find— but you're hypnotized— caught in a trance by his words of praise. against your better judgement, you nod, before shamefully averting your gaze.
he smiles tightly and steps away. adjusts the buttons of his suit jacket and looks around before going to the couch and sitting down. "why don't you go fetch me a glass of water?" he stretches his arms, shoots a provocative smile your way. "all this exercise has me feeling thirsty."
you want to tell him to shove his exercise up your ass and leave, but you decide to do as he said. you're in no position to threaten him. he's much stronger than you, and judging by everything else, much older as well. men like him are not easy to fool. and you really don't want to get hit again.
as you pour him a glass of water, you eye his briefcase again. if you could somehow manage to perhaps weaken him for just a moment— you could get all the cash and maybe run away. you would spike his water but you don't have any drugs. you have to do this the hard way. you pocket a fork and then head back to deliver him his water.
as he drinks, you kneel by his feet, gathering your cash. carefully, you pull out the fork, and with as much strength as you can, slam it down onto the side of his foot.
"you little bitch—" he groans loudly, wincing and throwing his head back and clenching his jaw before splashing the water from the glass on your face. it makes you squeal. before you can attack again, he pulls the fork out and tosses it to the side. your eyes widen and you rush to get it, but he sticks his leg out and you trip and fall on your face again.
a crunchy sound emerges as he steps on your wrist, his shoe digging into the delicate appendage. you let out a shrill cry.
"the one thing i hate more than thieves—" he snickers, looking down at you like you're an insect. he scoffs, twisting his shoe harder, making you choke on a sob, "is a little girl who thinks she's smarter than me."
"fuck you!" you sob, squirming on the ground, "let me go!"
"watch your language with me." he hisses back, narrowing his eyes. he glares before releasing a breathy chuckle, "you are the stupidest girl i have ever met. you were doing so well too. did you really think you could overpower me?"
"you hit me—" you sniffle, groaning in pain as you attempts to yank your hand back, "you hit me and you—"
he interrupts with a taunt, "maybe if you tried acting so smartly with your father, you wouldn't have had to run away from home."
you gasp before letting out another pained whimper, "how did you—"
"it's written on your face." he sighs, exasperated. like he's dealing with a toddler, not a girl who stabbed his leg. "if i let go of your hand, do you promise not to get hostile again?"
you glare at him silently through teary eyes.
"do i have your word?" he says louder, twisting his foot again.
"yes, yes—" you yelp, and with careful thought, he steps back. before you can make a move, he leans down to grab your hair and yanks you up. it makes you hiss in pain. he shoves you towards the couch.
"all this fighting has made me excited," he remarks with a chuckle, crowding you in. your eyes widen and you crawl away from him to the farthest end of the couch. he follows you like a predator, palming the front of his pants, and the realization of whats to follow makes you shake your head, "no- no, please, god—"
"shut the fuck up," he snaps strictly, voice eerily composed. he grabs your head, looks down at you with those black, empty eyes, his free hand carelessly unbuckling his belt. "you didn't think i'd let your little stunt go unpunished, did you?"
"you can do anything else—" you choke out, shaking her head. he yanks your face forward, makes your cheek press against the tent in his pants. you can smell him. you desperately try to latch onto any semblance of comfort you can find. "anything— anything but this, you can even slap me again—"
"hitting you is no fun if you're asking for it," he replies boredly, tugging your head back just enough so your teary eyes blink up at him pathetically. "i want to really rub it in this time. what happens when you mess with men like me."
you want to fight more— you wish you could. you desperately want to, but you feel frozen with shock. this day has turned into a nightmare you couldn't imagine even in the worst possible time. it's like everything you have done till now to avoid horrible, violent men, is laughing at your failure. you blink a few times, as if trying to wake yourself up.
"i've never done this before," your voice cracks as you voice your last attempt at begging for mercy— does he not have a heart?
he pauses and eyes you for a moment, and for a millisecond you think he'll reconsider. but then his mouth twitches, and your heart breaks as soon he pulls his pants down.
"even better."
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A/N: this was more psychological and self indulgent that i expected, lol. i'm still not very well versed with smut, so i thought i might put this out before i try. feedback is always appreciated. i love him so much even though he's horrible. i guess that's what them father issues do.
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sweetpupii · 3 months ago
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Hi! Do you take requests?
If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:
"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"
of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏
If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)
 let's start by saying caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.
sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.
( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )
it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.
your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.
she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.
“should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.
oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.
the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.
legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.
if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.
she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.
she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.
the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.
“caitlyn.”
of course it had to be her mother out of all people.
cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!
“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.
“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.
she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.
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haveihitanerve · 8 months ago
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Okay but hear me out- the batkids as actual Vampires. Not bruce, just the kids, and bruce providing for them. Because he just has the tastiest blood.
Little Dick toddling over to Bruce, tears in his eyes because he ate his bloody dinner too fast and hes still hungry and Bruce just sighing and sticking out his hand and Dick lights up and they watch a movie while dick is happily gnawing on Bruce’s thumb and sucking his blood. Big Dick complains very loudly about how hungry he is and Bruce will glower at him before finally giving in and throwing an arm around his eldests shoulders and Dick pecks his cheek with a sweet “thank you dad.” before sinking his teeth into Bruce’s arm. 
Little Jason would very politely come over and tug on his hand and Bruce would pick him up and let him bite his hand and drink, but Big Jason just pounces on Bruce from behind and sinks his teeth into Bruces shoulder/neck for blood. 
Little Tim slipping five dollar bills into Bruce’s hand just before chomping his thigh and Big Tim very casually stabbing a needle into Bruce’s leg, extracting blood and then putting it into his coffee and walking away. Sometimes, if he’s feeling nostalgic, he will curl up with his head on bruce’s lap and actually bite him for blood, for pure blood, but he likes his coffee bruce blood blend better
Little Cass never once asked bruce for blood because she was scared, but Bruce would just scoop her into his arms and offer her his already cut open shoulder until she was comfortable enough scaling him like a tree and drinking from his shoulder. Big Cass still doesn't ask for blood, she just lands on his shoulders and bites his bicep. 
Little Steph was a little vampire gremlin and any time she saw Bruce without clothes (since his children feed off of him Bruce wears very little, just a tank top and shorts and makes sure to shave as much as possible to provide ample biting space, but as Batman he still wears his full suit just easy to slip off certain parts so his kids can feed easily) she would suction onto him like a little affectionate leech and dig her little teeth into his back. Big Steph also likes his back and has much the same habits as little steph did. 
Little Babs wasn't too keen on blood, but sometimes Bruce would offer her his forearm while she was working and she would work and eat. Big Babs has no qualms about taking his blood, but has few chances, so he stops by her Oracle hideout sometimes and just holds out his arm for her to drink
Little Damian thought drinking blood from a human was beneath him. Until he saw Cass doing it and wanted to follow her footsteps, but he cant climb bruce as well as her, so he just sank his teeth into Bruce’s calf. Big Damian will wait until Bruce sits or lays down and props his feet up and will then enjoy his calf blood. 
Bruce Wayne who is covered, littered in bite scars of varying sizes, who was once knocked over by his three eldest sons because they had been on a mission away from him for a week and were hungry and before they even said hello just sank their teeth into his neck, hand and thigh. Bruce Wayne who’s majority of scars come from his children, not villains and who willingly offers up his neck to any one of his children if they seem hungry. 
Bruce Wayne who, as Batman, will peel his protective bat suit arm off because Dick was hungry on a stake out. 
Bruce Wayne who is not a vampire but his children all are and he’ll be damned if he deprives them their nutrients. 
(selina kyle who is also a vampire and also gets her blood from bruce but from his-)
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chunghasweetie · 8 months ago
Note
Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.
What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)
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𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK
— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk
— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)
— word count | 3.5k words
— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown
It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.
Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.
His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.
He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.
“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.
She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.
She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.
She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”
Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.
“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.
She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.
Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.
“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”
“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.
Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.
It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.
He was finally home.
“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”
“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.
“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.
“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.
“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.
He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”
“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”
“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.
The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”
“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”
She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”
“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."
Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.
“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”
“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.
"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.
“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.
“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”
Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”
“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.
Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.
"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.
She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.
“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.
She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.
For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.
She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.
She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.
But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.
She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.
She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.
Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.
He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.
He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.
After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.
He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.
“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”
Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.
“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”
She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."
Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.
He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.
He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.

Couldn’t get enough.
“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.
“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.
He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”
“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."
She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.
She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”
Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.
He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.
"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.
“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.
She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.
Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.
He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"
“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.
“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.
Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."
He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."
“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”
“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”
“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.
Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”
“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.
Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”
She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.
Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.
"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”
She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”
Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.
"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.
Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."
“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.
Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."
He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.
“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”
Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."
He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”
“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.
Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.
"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.
“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.
Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.
He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those
"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"
“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”
Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.
He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.
She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.
She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.
She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”
“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”
“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”
“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”
“I hate you.”
He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."
“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.
Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.
Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.
He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more
Seductive.
Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.
“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.
“Fine.” She pecked his lips.
A few minutes later.
“Please?”
“Okay.” She pecked his lips.
More minutes go by.
“One more? Last time really.”
“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.
“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.
“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”
“Need to make love to you since you got locked up” Her kisses grew more demanding.
Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”
His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”
“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.
Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."
“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.
Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"
“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”
Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"
“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.
Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."
He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”
“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.
Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.
Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”
“Daddy please—“
“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."
His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.
“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”
Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”
“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.
Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.
Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.
“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"
“Y-Yes”
“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.
The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?
“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”
“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”
The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.
“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.
"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.
"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.
“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.
“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.
He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.
The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.
He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.
"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.
“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”
“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.
The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.
“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.
She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.
She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.
He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.
Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.
“I still got it.”
“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”
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bruhstories · 1 month ago
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Bet I
p.2 here & p3. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here
summary: in-ho got a cat, and he needs a cat sitter while he is away on his business trip. who knew that meeting you would turn into a bet, a philosophy of what is moral and what is not?
pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader
warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader's background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, few mentions of Y/N (again, for plot purposes), pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent
w/c: 2.2k
a/n: i have no idea how many chapters this will have, but i'm trying to write each chapter for each day of the games. it'll all make sense at the end lol. i tried to do as much research about seoul and south korea in general, so please be gentle! i'm just an eastern european gal
tagging: @full-sunnies @xodilfluvr
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In-ho got a cat — a green-eyed, silver-tipped Korat he named Eunjoo. He thought about getting a dog, but dogs were high-maintenance, loyal and loving, and his job didn't allow him a loving pet. It didn't allow him to get attached to humans or animals. But Eunjoo was aloof and independent, and only rubbed against his leg when she wanted food. She refused to be handled and rarely played with the toys In-ho got her, but the cat was a necessary soul in his empty penthouse. It still wasn't enough to fill the hole in his blackened heart, but it was better than coming home to nothing and no one.
Trouble came when In-ho had to leave for eight days for the 32nd Squid Game. He quite obviously couldn't bring Eunjoo with him, and he couldn't let her starve, either. Not only that, but her litter boxes had to be cleaned regularly, and she needed fresh water daily, which left him with only one option — getting a cat sitter, as stupid as that sounded. In-ho felt ridiculous typing the post on a website for dog-walkers and pet sitters, but he did it nonetheless.
Businessman going on an eight day trip. In need of an experienced person to do home visits twice a day for my Eunjoo. 30,000 won per day. Based in Gangnam-gu, Seoul. 
He attached a picture of the cat along with his email, and waited. There was enough time to select a sitter before he left, and he browsed several profiles of pet sitters. Most of them had fantastic reviews, but asked for more money. Typical, In-ho thought. How typical for people to ask for more than necessary. It wasn't as though he wasn't willing to pay more — he had enough money, and would gladly spend it on Eunjoo — but it was the greed that disgusted him. The audacity to ask for 70,000 won a day to feed a cat and change her water was insane.
In-ho closed his laptop and left it on his coffee table in the living room, then walked into the kitchen to feed Eunjoo. She came from her hideout at the sound of a can opening, cautious of her surroundings, then rubbed her head against In-ho's leg, patiently waiting for her food. The cat didn't immediately eat. Instead, Eunjoo waited for her owner to sit down and have his dinner, and the corners of his mouth turned into a half-smile. Better than most people, In-ho thought. She wasn't greedy, she was understanding in ways some humans couldn't be. And so, he reheated yesterday's bulgogi and sat down with a side of freshly cooked rice. Only then did Eunjoo eat her dinner, checking on him from time to time to make sure he was also eating.
Ding!
His phone lit up with a notification. In-ho unlocked it and opened the email he had just received from a pet sitter.
Good evening, sir! My name is Y/L/N Y/N and I would like to meet Eunjoo. I live in Guryong Village and can take the bus to Gangnam-gu whenever you need me to, as I am quite flexible with my schedule, but I need to be completely transparent with you. I've only taken care of my cousin's cat over summer, so I am not the experienced sitter you are looking for, but I am asking you to please give me a chance. Have a good evening!
In-ho scoffed at the words on his screen. He was specifically looking for someone with experience, but he appreciated the honesty. It was a rare trait nowadays, and he was a fair man who gave everyone equal chances. It was the root of his job, after all.
Tomorrow morning, 9 o'clock, Bongeunsa-ro 103-gil, across the street from Shinhan Bank. I'll pick you up from downstairs. Don't be late.
The clack of your heels irked you as you hurried down the street from the bus stop to the address provided by the cat owner. It was a sound you weren't used to, but you needed to make a good impression when lacking experience. People all around you were dressed in expensive suits and dresses, clothes you could only dream of wearing, and the cars that swerved across your path, nearly running you over, looked like they cost as much as your house. It wasn't the first time you walked around Gangnam-gu, but it was the first time you spent more than five minutes surrounded by people who lived lavishly while you survived on Samyang Hot Chicken Ramen Stew.
And yet, you wouldn't trade your instant noodles for samgyeopsal or bossam if it meant selling your soul. Because that was the price to pay for riches and luxury, wasn't it? No, you would make ends meet somehow and live an honest life without becoming a coldhearted monster, just like your father taught you.
You checked that the address in the email matched your location, and waited for someone to talk to you, unsure how they would even recognise you. Although, on second thought, the thin, flimsy cotton of your dress and loose threads around the hem were a dead giveaway that you didn't belong in Gangnam-gu. You didn’t belong amongst the rich.
"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?"
Turning on your heels, you were met by the darkest eyes you had ever seen, eyes that looked as though they had both witnessed and committed unspeakable atrocities. And yet, there was a strange remorse in them. The man looked around 45 years old but not a single gray hair on his head, which was ironic, because you probably had more white strands hidden in your locks. Your gaze darted down at his extended hand, and you shook it while bowing down as a sign of respect. 
"You must be Mr. Hwang. I can't thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I promise I won't let you down if you give me a chance!"
Oh, you were a talker. In-ho had met your kind before, aimlessly sleepwalking through life, serving no greater purpose except for entertaining those who rid the world of gamblers, addicts, beggars and thieves. Not that you were in any of those categories — In-ho didn't know you that well yet — but the way you presented yourself made him think you would have made a suitable player in the game.It was too late to recruit you now. Perhaps next year, if you made it that far.
You followed Mr. Hwang into the elevator, surprised that it wasn't stopping until reaching the last floor of the building, and when the doors opened, they revealed a small hallway with just one apartment. He had no neighbours above or around him, and you couldn’t begin to imagine how lonely it must've been. Surely his wife or girlfriend kept him company, or perhaps he had children — In-ho did look old enough to be your father.
He unlocked the multiple locks on his door — he must have been really rich — and invited you in. For a moment, a split second, you wondered if you had made a mistake coming there. The man could be a serial killer for all you knew, and with almost no neighbours, who would even hear you scream? You heard stories about wealthy people who took pleasure in hurting others. The lack of pictures of a wife or children only strengthened that doubt, but the intrusive thought soon dissipated when, from the corner of your eye, you spotted a silver tail hanging from a dining chair. 
Paying no mind to the tall double fridge, or the black U shaped velvet sofa that could fit your entire extended family, or even the view from his floor-to-ceiling windows, you kicked off the uncomfortable heels and got down on all fours, crawling closer to Eunjoo before sitting on the tiled floor with your legs crossed. It caught In-ho completely off guard — unpredictability was something that bothered him. Usually when he brought girls over they would bombard him with a million questions about his job, his car, his clothes, his bank account. You didn't, and it both infuriated and intrigued him. But then again, he brought you there with a different purpose.
"What are you doing exactly?" In-ho circled around you like a hawk, watching you intently. 
"I've read that it's better to allow cats to familiarise themselves with people instead of forcing affection onto them." You sat still, chin tilted upwards to look at him with innocence in your eyes. "I may not be experienced, sir, but I did my research."
He wasn't particularly impressed by your research skills, not even when Eunjoo jumped from the chair and walked around you, curious yet apprehensive. One paw hovered above the floor in mid-air, and her tail was lowered, almost touching the ground, as the cat slowly and cautiously approached you, sniffing the hand you extended. 
"So, what do you do for a living?" You broke the spell, not on Eunjoo but on In-ho, who was watching you try to befriend his cat. He hadn't realised he had been staring for longer than he should have until you spoke with disinterest in your voice. You didn't really care what his job was.
"Business." He simply said and you chuckled at his response. "Something funny?"
"I'm sorry, I just thought it would be nice to make small talk while we wait for Eunjoo to get comfortable." You shrugged. "But it's fine if you don't want to talk about that, sir."
Sir. It sounded so different coming from you and not one of his subordinates at the facility. In-ho quietly pulled a chair from under the table and sat down, but Eunjoo had finished inspecting you. She lifted her tail, the tip curled — a sign of playfulness — and you scratched her chin.
"Good girl, Eunjoo! I'm sorry, I don't have any treats." You sat up after the cat lost interest in you and hid behind the sofa.
"So you're inexperienced and unprepared." His voice was cold and judgemental and you lowered your head in shame.
"I'm really sorry, sir. I don't have a great financial situation, that's why I need this job. I can water plants and clean the house, I can even do your laundry and iron your shirts, and I don't want any extra money, just the payment for cat sitting." You sounded so desperate it was pathetic. "Please."
The last bit of your sentence was what caught In-ho's attention. No extra money? Who in their right minds wouldn’t charge more for additional services? Were you planning on stealing from him while he was away? Not that it mattered — he'd find you and kill you upon his return from the island if you did. However, he found it to be an interesting game, a bet of sorts. You would win if you were honest for all eight days. He would win if you stole from him and abused his kindness.
"You're hired." In-ho nodded, the look of surprise mixed with gratitude on your face making him feel like some sort of god.
"I swear you won't be disappointed in me, sir. I'll leave the house spotless every day, and I will take good care of Eunjoo!" You nodded eagerly, beaming at him.
"I know you will. She takes breakfast at 7 and dinner at 9, and there is an automatic feeder set at 2 pm for lunch." He explained and you took your phone out to quickly take notes. "Make sure you change her water in the morning and at night, and scoop her litter boxes every time you're here."
"...scoop the poop twice a day. Got it." You mumbled while typing. "Do I give her wet food in the mornings and evenings?"
"Yes, and please check that the automatic feeder is stocked. You will find all her cans and kibble in this cupboard." In-ho walked into the kitchen and showed you where Eunjoo's food was. There was more cat food in that cupboard than you had in your house.
"Perfect. Where is the bin room located?"
"Underground. The code is 456654."
"Thank you, Mr. Hwang! I won't let you down. Oh, I should give you my phone number, right?" You asked, feeling a bit awkward for being so straightforward. 
"Whatever would I need your number for?" He almost laughed. 
"How else would you see Eunjoo?"
"Right. Forgot about that." In-ho scratched the back of his head. He couldn't exactly tell you that there were cameras everywhere in his house.
"Two more questions. Am I allowed to play music or movies on your TV and could I take a shower after cleaning? I'm bringing spare clothes and my own towel and soap."
"Yes, of course you can. Please help yourself to anything you need. I trust you'll figure out how the coffee machine or dishwasher work." He nodded. 
"Yeah, I'll figure it out." You lied. You had never used a dishwasher before.
"Great. I leave in three days. Please be here the day after my departure. Here's the spare key."
"Thank you, sir!" You bowed and walked to the door to put your shoes back on. "Good luck on your trip!"
"Thank you, miss. Good luck to you, too." 
The bet was placed, the game was on.
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wstviewvidal · 1 month ago
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cabernet sauvignon- w. maximoff
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pairing: rich!wanda x reader
summary: jealousy leads to beautiful beginnings
next part
minors do not interact
wanda’s day leading up to dinner was nothing short of frantic. she’d spent the entire day before deep cleaning her whole house, afraid that you’d end up in her medicine cabinet somehow or inspecting every crevice of her house. that thought lone had her spending hours crouched underneath tables, standing on stools, even using a micro brush to ensure there was no dust on any surface of her house.
it’s been a week since she took you and your niece out for a girls day. she went home giddy that night and sent a dinner invitation to you as soon as she parked in her driveway.
so, here she was trying her best to find the perfect outfit that looked put together but not too try hard. she stared at the pile of rejected clothes laying on her bed, teetering the fine line between excitement and frantic.
she groaned silently and threw her head back, “why don’t i have any clothes?”
her entire room was in disarray, shirts haphazardly thrown on her bed and jeans laid out on her desk chair. she pulled out piece after piece, holding each article of clothing up to her body in the mirror before throwing it away.
she spent the next twenty minutes scouring and searching for an outfit, only to end up with a blue and white striped button down and dark jeans— an everyday uniform for her.
hi! i’m at the store grabbing wine, do you need anything from here before i head your way?
wanda’s phone chimed with a text message from you and she immediately picked up and read. she smiled down at the message, her heart blooming with warmth at the sight of your name in her phone.
no, everything’s ready! just drive safe.
the next few minutes consisted of wanda fluffing pillows and angling picture frames in an aesthetically pleasing way. taking a few deep breaths, she calmed herself down when she saw you pull into her driveway. she straightened her shirt out and smoothed her hair, taking a deep breath.
but when she saw your car pull into her driveway, all her cool evaporated into thin air.
you didn’t even get the chance to knock on her door before she opened it for you, a wide grin on her face.
“hi,” she breathed out, her grin someone becoming wider now that she’s laid her yes on you, “come in.”
so you do.
and her home is beautiful. you take in the smell of food, the movie playing in the background, the pictures adorning her wall.
you turn to look at her, “your home is beautiful.”
although your body angled toward her, your eyes are too busy looking over how her home is decorated. all the while, wanda is frozen in time at the sight of you. you seem to be enamored by the cozy atmosphere she’s built, and wanda can’t help but be enamored by the way your eyes twinkle in awe.
smiling, she moves toward you to grab the bottle of wine, “thank you. come into the kitchen so we can eat,” your fingers momentarily brush against one another, but wanda didn’t let it linger too long— her nerves getting the better of her.
you follow her, watching wanda’s brown hair flowing gracefully behind her as she leads you further into her house. walking into the kitchen, you’re hit with the rich savory aroma of her home cooked meal.
you take in the smell, letting out a small sigh, “didn’t know you could cook,” you tease as you look over her shoulder at the red hued dish on the stove.
wanda scoffs, glancing back at you in faux offense, “of course i made this! what, you think i can’t cook?”
you nod playfully, your lips curving into a mocking pout, “oh, i know better now.”
wanda smirks subtly, giving you a once over, “good,” her eyes drag over you for a moment before returning back to the stove.
her voice drops slightly, her tone carrying a tease— you can’t help but flush at the way she looked at you. the air between you is warm and charged, you can’t help but wonder what tonight could lead to.
the two of you plate the food and sit at her kitchen table, soft music playing in the background. the light from the overhead fixture casts a comforting glow around the room.
as wanda’s speaks, you watch as she fiddles with her rings, a nervous habit of hers you’ve picked up on. you can’t help but let out a small giggle in amusement.
wanda’s brows furrow, “what’s so funny?”
you shrug nonchalantly, “you’re nervous,” you say matter-of-factly, “you’re normally not like this,” you lean back in your chair as you analyze her.
tilting her head, she she narrows her eyes at you, “i’m not nervous.”
raising an eyebrow and scoffing softly, “so you’re lying to me now?” your voice has a playful tone to it, and it works— wanda visibly loosens up and her lips twitch into a smile.
she rolls her eyes and stays quiet, her cheeks a soft shade of pink.
you side eye her a bit, then nod in agreement with her, “okay, then you’re not nervous.”
she begins to chuckle, “you’re impossible, you know that?” her smile widens and she shakes her head at you.
“maybe,” you quip, your your teasing grin widens.
the playful exchange lightens the atmosphere and wanda’s nerves slowly work themselves out. wanda glances over at you, her expression softening— almost like she’s trying to memorize this moment. for the first time tonight, you wonder to yourself if she’s feeling as caught up in this as you are.
the dinner is filled with easy conversation, the two of you laughing over shared memories and you gazing at wanda when she isn’t looking.
nearing the end of the dinner, you look over at wanda, “this was amazing, wands,” you say gently as you look at her, “you’ve been holding out on me. i had no idea you could cook like this.”
wanda props her chin in her hand, smiling as you thank her for the meal, “in all honesty, i didn’t think it’d come out this good,” she admits softly, “i just think it just tasted better because you were here.”
caught off guard, you blink. the warmth in her voice feels intentional, not overwhelming, but it makes your heart race. she takes a sip from her wine glass, acting as though the moment was not meant to linger.
you two sit on her couch, sipping the wine you brought over. wanda turns her attention to you, “i’m really happy you came tonight,” her voice low and sincere, “i can’t remember the last time i enjoyed dinner this much.”
you tilt your head at her, noting the way her words felt more meaningful than casual, “what, dinner with your exes wasn’t this thrilling?”
you knew you were possibly crossing a line and fishing for something you didn’t want to catch. part of you wonders if you’re treading too close to something vulnerable.
wanda smirks, a playful light in her eyes as she looks at you, “dinner with my exes involved a lot less conversation and a lot more… awkward silence,” a soft laugh bubbles up as she recalls how she couldn’t have meaningful conversations with them like she has with you. she picks up her glass, looking over the rim at you as she takes a sip, “but you? you make it easy.”
wanda watches your reaction with a laugh, shaking her head at how easily flustered you can get. the red on your face is hard to ignore and you can feel your ears hot.
she laughs lowly once more, “you’re easy to fluster.”
before you can recover, she changes the subject, not allowing you the chance to recover, “so, does this mean i’ll be having you over more often for dinner?”
you clear your throat, putting the wine glass down on her coffee table, “i’ll have to be back. i may need a second round to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.”
wanda nods, a smug smile on her face. internally, she was celebrating and already planning for next time. but outwardly she’s nodding and leaning her cheek into her hand.
“didn’t take you for the demanding type,” she says, her tone laced with amusement.
rolling your eyes, you face your body towards her on the couch, pulling your legs beneath you, “i’m not demanding, i’m thorough. there’s a very big difference.”
tilting her head, she narrows her eyes as if she’s analyzing you, “don’t worry, i noticed it after we spending time together,” she looks away from you, her voice dropping a few octaves, “but it wasn’t the first thing i noticed.”
you watch her as she looks away from you, noticing how she flirts but never pushes too far afterward. you decide to change the subject.
“wanda,” you say causally, “how do you know jesse?”
wanda raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard, “i don’t,” her fingers fiddling with her necklace, “valerie mentioned her at the aquarium. why?”
nodding along, attempting to sound unaffected, “i just didn’t think i she’d bring her up, that’s all.”
wanda tilts her head, noticing your sudden mood change, she places a soft hand on your own, “don’t worry about it,” she brushes the topic off with ease, “besides, i have my own share of exes who like to linger.”
you snap your head toward her, eyebrows furrowed, “linger?”
wanda hums, a smug smile tugging on her lips at your reaction, “matter of fact, one of them texted me yesterday. she wants to get dinner this week.”
your jaw tightens before you can even help it, “that’s nice,” your words comes out clipped.
wanda fights the urge to laugh, reveling in your reaction, “yeah, i haven’t responded yet. who knows?”
she watches you as you hum and busy yourself with the movie playing in front of you two, but your concentration is far too deliberate to be real. she knows she should ease your worries— she could, but something about the face that you don’t want her to go is making her heart flutter.
you get up to leave a short while after the movie ends, helping wanda clean up the living room you two lounged in.
wanda leads you out, a familiar hand on your back as always, “text me when you get home please.”
you nod and smile up at her, “of course,” wanda looks at you with a grin and twinkling eyes.
she lingers, her contact with you not wavering, her eyes tracing every detail of your face with a deep smile. before you can even think better of it, your arms loop around her neck while her hands find a comfortable spot on the sides of your waist.
you pull back slightly, looking into her eyes, unsure if you should speak your mind. wanda looks down at you, her heart beating rapidly at the contact with you.
“wanda?” you say, almost silently.
“hm?” wanda can hardly focus on anything other than the fact that you’re holding onto her and looking at her with a lovestruck smile. her heart is pounding so loudly she’s surprised you can’t hear it. there is no denying the tenderness behind her expression.
you notice as her eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, a subtle smile on her face as she gazes into your eyes.
“don’t go to dinner with your ex,” you say rather quickly, “please.”
an amused grin appears on wanda’s face as she holds you, tilting her head, “why?” her face inches just the slightest and you can feel her breath on your cheek.
you’re unsure if you’ve crossed a line, but the way she’s looking into your eyes so intensely— the way she’s holding you gently makes you throw caution to the wind.
you don’t answer her question with words. instead, you lean in, hesitation for just a brief moment to see if she pulls away. she doesn’t. her lips meet yours, softly, tenderly even, as if she’s been waiting for this moment.
wanda doesn’t pull away. instead, her hand presses softly against your lower back, pulling you in. she holds you close with such tenderness that it makes your heart ache. when you pull back, her grin is still there, but this time it is softer now.
your cheeks flush,“don’t go to dinner with your ex,” your voice is steadier now, “please.”
wanda’s grin softens into something more sincere. her thumb rubbing against your waist absentmindedly as she nods, “okay.”
she speaks simply as she watches you sigh, as if the decision was ever in question.
wanda leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering like she doesn’t want to let you go, “text me when you get home.”
you nod, your hear full as you step back, awaiting when you can see her again.
wanda watches you leave, leaning against her doorframe with a giddy smile, her bottom lip in between her teeth. neither of you say it, but you both know it’s different now. there’s promise there, a promise of something more.
finally.
581 notes · View notes
puckinghischier · 3 months ago
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Dogtooth
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jack hughes x fem!reader
WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding
summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator
notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼
[2.3k]
dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.
it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.
he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.
and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.
he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.
and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)
you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.
no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.
he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.
finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.
“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.
you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.
“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.
he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”
grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.
“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.
you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”
“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”
said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.
“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.
he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.
you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.
“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”
jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.
“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.
his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?
before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.
“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.
“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.
jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.
he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.
you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.
“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.
“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.
“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.
“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.
“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.
it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.
“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.
you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth. 
suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.
the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.
you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.
jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.
the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.
“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.
jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.
fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.
“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.
jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.
your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.
jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.
with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.
“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.
jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.
his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.
you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.
the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.
“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.
you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.
jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.
he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.
your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.
he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.
once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.
“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.
“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.
you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.
jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.
“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.
he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”
you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”
he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.
“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.
it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.
“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.
“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.
making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.
“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.
“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.
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nena-la-fresa · 4 months ago
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All Night Long | Good Ending |
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18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.
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All Night Long | Neutral Ending | /// All Night Long | Bad Ending |
Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader
Warning: Flirting | Smut | Little bit of Voyeurism | P in V | Blowjob | Three way |
Word Count: 2551
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Sometimes you still think about that night. You felt like Beth and Hannah were like sisters to you. You visited their house often for breakfast and dinner, so it really hurt what happened. You couldn’t even imagine how Josh felt. You still feel somewhat responsible, maybe if you hadn't been taking care of Josh that night things would have been different. 
They both knew you liked their brother. If anything they were the only ones who tried to get you together. They were the ones who set drunk Josh down on the same couch as you. You were so focused on playing with his hair and drawing lines on his face with your fingers. You even confused your feelings to him. You thought he heard you when he mumbled your name in his sleep. 
But then they went missing and Josh cut off you and everyone else. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt but what else could you do. He was mourning. 
You were a little surprised though at the invite you got. But still happy, you really hoped that he was doing somewhat better. 
When you got there it was like he was the same Josh, he didn’t look like he was mourning. He acted the same way. He still made his same flirtatious comments. He was still that boy next door kind of guy. 
He had noticed that you got cold, so he walked over with a blanket. You were about to take it when he opened it and wrapped you with the blanket. You looked up at him, a bit corny but looking into his eyes just made you feel like kissing him. 
And you feel like he noticed too, why else would he clear his throat and walk away. You felt a little disappointed. But you thought it was a good time to talk to him. You sat down next to him while he was crouching trying to light the fire. You weren’t alone so you just spoke softly so only he could hear.
“I’m really sorry for what happened Josh. I really loved Hannah and Beth. I still miss going over to your house on Sundays and eating breakfast with you guys. I really regret that day too, I should have been with Hannah that day. But I was so focused on taking care of you that I just didn’t- I didn’t think about what could happen.”
You looked up and saw him looking at you. “Thank you. I appreciate that Y/n.” 
You were about to say something when Chris interrupted, “What am I missing?” 
You rolled your eyes before looking at Chris who was crouched coming in between the two of you. 
“Everything, we just had full blown sex right now. How'd you miss it?” Josh turned slightly to look at Chris. 
“Oh shit no way. Was it hot?” Chris patted Josh on the back. 
“Oh yeah dude. It was, you couldn’t tell? Dude had me cumming three times in the span of a minute. That guys, a real sex god.” They both looked at you bewildered, not uttering a word. 
“Okay, guess I can’t joke around. I’ll leave you ladies to it. I’m going to sit on the couch where it's less awkward.” You got up and moved over to where Ashely was. 
Chris moved to where you had been sitting, “So uh, you and uh, you and her?” He nodded towards you. 
“What about me and her?” Josh continued to try and get the fire going. 
“You finally gonna ask her out?” Chris whispers, “Cuz if you don’t I might just have to. I mean have you seen that ass? Just thinking about it makes me wet. Picture it, her ass up in the air while you're pounding into her and it has her screaming your name.” 
Josh glares over at Chris. Chris laughs, “Just saying the same shit you did buddy. But seriously, I think you should finally go for it. She definitely wants you to.”
You slowly stopped talking when you heard Sam yell about there not being any hot water. Josh got up and was about to head to the basement. 
“Go.” Ashley whispered, but seeing that you didn’t get up she yelled. “Josh, do you need help? Cuz Y/n could definitely help you if you needed help.” 
Josh turned around, “Yeah I could use some help. It’s definitely a two man job.” 
“Alright well if you need me that bad I guess I’ll go.” 
You both stood at the entrance of the basement. “Oh fuck no. I’m not going down there.” 
You didn’t budge, “What you scared?” Josh smirked. 
“Yes actually. Haven’t you ever seen scary movies Josh. People die in basements. There are ghosts and shit down there, psycho’s who are waiting for people to have sex.” 
“You tryin to have sex?” He raised an eyebrow.. 
You glare at him, “Sure buddy. Let’s have sex all you want.” 
He pumps his fist, “Yes.” He sees that you still aren't moving. 
“Alright. Here.” He holds out his arm for you. 
“Come on. Just hold onto me.” You hesitated, “Trust me, if there was anything in there I’d protect you.” 
“Okay.” You wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close. He could feel your breast pressed up against his arm. 
He’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him a little hard. 
After watching Josh fix the boiler he asks for your help. “Alright turn that switch there.”
“Right here?” 
“Yeah.”
You turn the switch on and the boiler starts working. 
“Yes! High five girl!” 
“What are we kids?” You laugh but still give him a high five. 
“Nah cuz if we were kids you wouldn't have said what you did upstairs.” You could hear the flirtation in his voice. 
You could feel your face heat up. “Okay. Let’s just forget about it” You start to walk away but hear a loud sound that scared you. “What was that?” 
You backed up into Josh, the warmth that was radiating off of his chest had you melting. His hands landed on your hips keeping you close. You felt him lean down and talk in your ear. 
“That could be a lot of things. But what I’m focused on is the fact you called me a what was it again? A sex god?” 
You shifted a bit in his grasp, an exhale left his breath. “Don’t do that.” His voice barely above a whisper. 
You felt something boil up from inside you. Something about him whispering in your ear got to you. “Do what? Oh this?” You rubbed your ass against him. 
“Fuck.” Josh gripped your waist tighter. 
“What can’t flirt back.” You felt him start to rub himself against your ass. 
One of his hands shifted from your hip to your pants. He wasted no time slipping his hand down them. His cold hand against your slit was such a sensation. His fingers went past your folds and slipped inside. “Fuck.” You whispered. 
You were at a loss of words as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly. He used his other hand to move your hair out of the way so that he could suck on your neck. His hand going back to your hip to hold you in place. 
“What was that about flirting back?” He felt you tighten around his fingers. 
“Josh please.” 
“Please what?” 
“I need you.” He took his fingers out. Leaving you feeling empty. 
“Need me where.” He put his fingers in his mouth, “God you taste so good.” 
“In me. I need you in me please.” He got right to it. He took off your clothes and his. You could feel his hard dick against your ass. 
He pushed you against the way so that you could lean forward. His dick rubbing against your folds. You could feel his arousal. 
Your once empty hole felt full, the girth and length that this man had. He started out slow. But he picked up the pace. One hand on your hip and the other against your clit. 
“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispered to you. He stopped for a bit before putting you on all fours. Your face pressed against the blanket he gave you earlier. His hands on your waist, gripping them tight enough to leave a bruise. And the feeling of his dick reaching places you wouldn't have felt while being pushed up against the wall. 
Josh's pace starts to pick up. He starts hitting all the right places and it causes you to scream. 
Unbeknownst to you both but there was someone watching. Chris was getting ready to scare you both with the first sound but when you both didn’t go investigating he got closer. That was when he saw you two. He was watching as you were grinding on Josh, and the way Josh started fingering you. He felt himself get hard. He knows he shouldn't have. He had a crush on Ashley. But what he told Josh earlier wasn't that much of a lie. He did think you were hot, especially in high school. Even when Josh dropped out he’d still see you around campus, he always wanted to talk to you. Always wanted to have sex with you. He fantasized about it a lot. 
And now here he is. Watching behind a shelf, with his dick out stroking himself to the sight of his best friend fuck the girl he thought was hot. He could feel himself getting closer to cumming when something fell. 
You both looked up in the direction of the noise. Chris’s face was now visible to you both. “Uh. I heard someone scream.” 
Josh didn’t stop though, the room filled with the sound of skin hitting against one another.  If anything Christ standing and just watching made Josh thrust even harder, like he was trying to claim his dominance. Especially with what Chris was saying earlier. 
You’ve never thought of Chris in that way but being watched did something to you. “Josh” you moaned his name and felt yourself squeezing around his dick. 
“You just gonna stand there Cochise? Cuz it looks like our girl here is getting excited from being watched. I know you haven't gotten your dick sucked. Why don’t you let her get it wet. But don’t expect it again. It’s a one-time offer Cochise.” Josh watched as Chris hesitated. 
“Or you could go back upstairs and not get any from Ashley. Cuz I know you both wont put out.”
In a rush Chris keeps the robe on but gets down on his knees. You prop yourself up but grab his hard dick. You lick the tip before looking up at him and putting it in your mouth. 
“Fuck” Chris lens his head back and grabs a fist full of hair. 
“She’s good isn't she Cochise.” Josh kept ramming into you, saliva dripping down your chin from Chris, dick in your mouth. 
“She's better with her mouth around you. So why don’t I give you a turn and you give me a turn.” 
Anger built up in Josh, “Fuck no.” Josh grabbed your arms and pulled you back up. 
“I have an idea. I don’t think you’ll like it though.” You let Josh slip out of you. You turned around, your lips hovering over his lips. “But I really want to try it. And then after I’m all yours.” 
Josh nodded, you told Chris to lay down. You made Josh watch as you sank down on Chris’ dick. You bounced on it a few times before leaning back against Chris’ chest. 
“You just want me to watch you fuck another guy?”
“No. Just come here.” You wrapped your mouth against his dick and got it wet. You sucked on the tip before pulling back, “I want you to go in.” 
“I’m sorry what?” Chris showed hesitation. 
“Chris please. Come on, don't ever tell me that you two horn dogs never thought about a girl with two dicks in her.” 
Josh smirked at you, “Wow, you’re really taking that party like porn stars seriously.” 
“You said it yourself, ‘it’s a one-time offer.’” 
Josh wasted no time. He leaned you back against Chris. Chris held your waist with one hand and the other hand its way to your breast. You moaned feeling Josh spit on your pussy and his dick. He pushed his dick against your entrance, stretching it and pressing it against Chris’. 
“Fuck” You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim. 
Josh starts to thrust, your pussy dripping from arousal makes it easy for them both to move inside you. You could feel yourself coming closer. Your eyes started to water, you felt that tingling sensation on your nose. They could feel you tighten around them. 
Chris pulled out and began to jerk himself off. But Josh kept going even if you began to get overstimulated. He kept fucking you while you were still on top of Chris, he just slightly lifted you to not disturb Chris letting it lose. 
You could feel Josh getting closer. His thrust were erratic, his breathing was heavy. He kept whispering your name until he came inside of you. 
Josh leaned down and kissed you. 
You all stayed there for a moment to catch a breath. That was before Chris got up after cleaning himself. “So uh, we don’t tell Ashely or anyone right?” 
“Right.” You laughed as Josh helped you put on your clothes. 
“And it was a one time thing Chris.” Josh turned around after he finished buttoning his pants. 
“Right right. I get it.” 
You all ended up going back up stairs together. Ashley got up from the couch “What took you guys so long.” She paused before seeing Chris robe. “What in god's name are you wearing?” 
Chris did the Trinity on Ashley, “I found my true calling.” 
“Pretty ironic huh.” Josh whispered over to you, you stiffened a laugh before elbowing him lightly. 
“Please tell me you're going to take a vow of silence.” Ashley joked.
“He better.” Josh spoke a little louder, confusing Ashley a bit. 
After you nudged Josh again he turned to you. “And you. What am I going to do with you?” 
You smirked at him, “With me? I did nothing.” 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“I guess we just gotta go for round two huh.” Josh grabbed your wrist lightly trying to lead you. 
“Oh you mean round two with you know who?” You could see that he got irritated for a second. 
“Yeah sure okay.” Josh leaned down before holding your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. 
“Where are you two going?” Ashley laughed at the two of you. 
Josh started to walk up the stairs, “I gotta talk with her about some stuff. You two have fun down here.”
“Damn that basement really did something for them huh.” She laughed and looked at Chris. Who weirdly looked irritated. 
“Chris?” 
He snapped out of it. “Oh, yeah. It really did. Some kinda trauma bonding or something from the scare I gave them.” 
“Where did you even find that?” Ashley listened to Chris all the weird shit that he found in the basement. Excluding the sex and him watching you and Josh fuck before he joined in.
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21280 · 2 months ago
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warnings for nsfw! implied age gap (it's always age gap when it's older pro heroes), swearing, afab reader, she/her used, fingering, dom! aizawa (?), poorly written smut. this is my birthday gift from me to me! mdni.
shota aizawa and birthdays are not a great mix. he's as emotionally available as a pet rock, so it takes him a while to actually care for such dates.
but when yours comes around, it's an entirely different situation. he somewhat cares, and he's thoughtful enough to consider buying you a gift. key word being consider. it's usually something small like buying you lunch from the cafeteria, or gifting you something practical for your hero suit. and it's very subtle; he gives you his 'gifts' with nobody around so there's no speculation about his bias for your special day.
this year, he made two tiny mistakes.
one, getting noticed by hizashi yamada.
two, buying you something entirely different than before.
so when he's attempting to wrap a small chocolate box in crinkly wrapping paper, he can sense his workmate's eyes lingering on his figure. thinking little of it, he continues.
shota should've known there was something going on the second he stepped foot in the teacher dorms and it was empty. the only sign of life were your huffs and groans coming from the kitchen as you measured flour and some other dry ingredients.
"y/n? where are the others?"
"they said they had to go prepare some stuff at the faculty lounge for my secret party" you laughed, "can you believe i'm stuck baking my own cake?"
shota's eyes slightly widened as he walked towards the elevator, explaining how he had a small present for you. taking advantage of the solitude, it was better for him to deliver his present now than later. a few minutes went by until he returned with a small bag, inside being a box wrapped in crepe paper.
"oh my gosh, you really didn't have to, aizawa" you giggled, your hands steady on the kitchen counter as you jumped to take a seat. you slowly tore away the paper to reveal a simple, black box with golden lettering. they were chocolates, and not the cheap kind. "these look so good, you wanna share?"
he shook his head in response. "they're for you, y'know." you tilted your head to the side, "and if i want to share?"
he scoffed, "alright, but don't be complaining later when i eat the whole—"
there was a loud sound coming from a speaker. shota knew that mic bought it to have ambiance music during dinner or during cooking, but he never knew it could turn on by itself. more importantly...
the speaker wasn't playing pure background noise. it was playing a song.
shota sighed as he recognized the familiar tune, which was one he had heard during his younger years. and he knew that you recognized it too, from the way in which you held in your laugh. "is this your doing, aizawa?" he shook his head as his phone pinged, and to his surprise, it was a text.
Yamada 19:05 AIZAWA BUDDY Hope you like the surprise!!! We won't look at the kitchen cameras for the rest of the night We still want you to be at the lounge for Y/n's party at 9 tho so move along!!
Shota 19:07 Are you fucking serious?
Yamada 19:08 It's her birthday so you know she wanna rii-ii-iiide out Seriously we're gonna be upset if you waste my good music for nothing bro.
"it's mic's doing" he grumbled, to which you laughed. "is this his attempt at setting us up?" he asked. "probably. is it working?"
"i don't know a single person who enjoys this song unironically. do you seriously want to do this with yamada's playlist?"
"something's better than nothing, aizawa" you smiled, "wanna sing along to birthday sex with me?"
shota took the chocolate box from your hand, picking a small tablet and placing it between his teeth. he moved closer, his hands slightly parting your thighs as he positioned himself between them. though his voice came out muffled by the chocolate, it was obvious what he was saying.
"come on. eat."
your fingers grasped the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer as you leaned in to take a bite. before you could, though, shota took the chocolate from his mouth and threw it somewhere on the counter, connecting his lips with yours. your hand cupped his cheek as your back slightly arched, wanting to close the gap even further. shota's hand was on the small of your back as he slowly dragged you to the edge of the counter.
his hand lowered towards your ass, causing you to gasp. shota was quick to slide his tongue inside, earning a whine from you. your lips are intoxicating to shota. they're addictive, and he tries desperately to keep nibbling on what he deemed heaven itself.
but alas, air is not only something he needs, you need it too. you pulled away to catch your breath, your hand moving from his cheek to under his shirt, softly tracing the skin on his lower back. "you do know this is probably mic's sex fantasy, right?"
he stifled a laugh, "something's better than nothing, right?"
shota's fingers ghosted over your thighs. "this okay?" he asked, to which you nodded. his fingers traced the hem of your shorts, sneakily pushing the fabric to the side as the tip of his finger lazily drew circles on your clothed cunt. "y'know, i could just fuck you like this, no prob. the shorts make it easy."
and his touch is enough to give you goosebumps. you trembled as he slowly, and carefully peeled your panties to the side, slipping two digits inside. he chuckled as you gripped his shirt in response. "you're this wet already? but we're just getting started."
the way his fingers thrust inside you made your grip on him tighten. you wondered if he had any previous experiences—he’s old, so he’s had to have some—there’s no way he’s naturally good. his fingers curled up inside your walls, and it was enough to have your hips jerk towards him, your head on his chest as your breath quickened. shota's thumb drew circles on your clit as he leaned in to whisper.
“does it feel good?”
you try to answer as coherently as you can, but it’s no use. “it—aah—s’good, aizawa.”
without warning, he slips in one more digit. the moan that escaped your lips was so raw—so lewd, it was almost enough for shota to cum on the spot. “that’s not my name, it’s shota. try again.”
“fuck—shota—so good.”
“that’s better” he growled, his free hand moving under your shirt. shota aizawa is skilled, because in one swift movement your bra is unclasped, your shirt is lifted, and his lips and nibbling and suckling on your hardened nipples. shota aizawa knows your sensitive spots. he either guessed them first try, or has known you long enough to know.
you were a moaning mess. you clung onto him so hungrily, with so much desperation. the only sounds that left your mouth were incoherent thoughts and screams.
“sho—want you ‘nside—now.”
he let out a low chuckle, “you need to cum for me first. think you can do that, y/n?”
shota didn’t have to tell you twice.
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axelsagewrites · 5 months ago
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Hey can I request a Aegon x Hightower!aunt reader?
where she's got this holier-than-thou attitude but secretly enjoys seeing Aegon lusts over her (even doing stuff on purpose to fuel his desire). And ultimately she humiliates him in some pleasurable way.
Aegon Targaryen*Pray For Me
Pairing: sub!aegon x f!reader
Word count: 1694
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Warnings: a lot of blasphemy, religion, face riding, p in v sex, teasing, m!recieving oral, f!recieving oral, orgasm denial (male), sub aegon, dom reader, good boy, smut 18+
Masterlist here
Your sister was at her wits end, and you couldn’t blame her when you visited court for the first time. Your father was very determined to keep his youngest daughter away from the antics of court but when Alicent requested your presence as the Queen, he decided it was best not to argue.
“Impropriety is a sin, you know,” your voice was quiet, but it shut the whole table up when you spoke.
It was your first family dinner with the queen and her children. Aegon had arrived already tipsy and was being exceptionally loud. “You think me immoral? For having some fun?” he asked, drunkenly smiling as he leant forward.
Alicent let out a sigh and opened her mouth to speak but you spoke before she could, “I think punishment will find those who deserve it,”
“Whatcha gonna do?” he slurred, putting his elbows on the table which you glared at, “Spank me?” he teased.
You smiled sweetly at him and just as he went to sit back in you gave the table a quick jerk causing the wine, he reached for to spill across the table. The red liquid instantly covered his frame, “You bitch!” he jumped up as he tried to shake the wine of his tunic, “This is new!” his whines were almost drowned out by Heleana’s giggles and Alicent’s attempt to hide her laugh.
“If you squandered your money less this wouldn’t be a problem,” you said but it fell on deaf ears as he went to storm out the room.
-
You weren’t shocked when the guards informed your sister Aegon had taken to the silk streets after dinner. He was shocked to find you leaving his room as he got back, “You’re waiting for me?”  he smirked when he saw you, “Need me that badly?”
“You’re driving your mother mad,” you sighed, crossing your arms.
Aegon ignored you, his gaze instead lower to how your breasts threatened to spill from your dress, only exaggerated by your crossed arms. You glowered at him as you lowered them, “If you’re worried, pray for me,” he said as he stumbled to his chamber door.
You rolled your eyes as you walked away. However, you still vaguely heard his cries of ‘what the fuck’ when he discovered you’d taken all the wine from his chambers.
-
Each day went the same. Aegon did something that would make a septa blush, you reprimanded him, he hit on you, you made him regret it. “As if you’re perfect,” he’d scoff at you when no one else could hear, “Bet you’re up to all sorts when no one’s looking,” You internally smirked but would just remind him of the sins of the flesh eating away at his soul. He didn’t need to know the truth. Not yet.
Slowly he was beginning to learn, beginning to behave better, but no amount of your scolds would stop his eyes from wandering your frame. Hell, the one time he came to the sept Alicent nearly leapt for joy. You didn’t want to break it to her he’d knelt beside you and kept looking down your dress when he thought you couldn’t see.
You also weren’t willing to admit you’d enjoyed it.
One-night Aegon came to your chambers. He was drunk and begging for your touch, so you sent him away. Your blood went Firey hot however when Aemond later confessed to seeing Aegon in a brothel with a woman who may as well be your twin.
Maybe it was time to punish him on his level.
-
You wanted him to be sober for this. You wanted him to remember his mistakes. So, you waited in his chambers while he was out to morning sword practise. He opened the door with a heavy sigh and let out an even heavier. “What did I do now?” he groaned as he made his way to his wine.
“Leave it,” you said, your voice calm, “And sit down,”
“I’m really not in the mood for a lecture,” he huffed as he grabbed a chalice.
You tutted as you crossed the room, grabbing his wrist gently. Aegon span around, ready to argue, but you stepped forward. Your lips ghosted over his and his breath got stuck in his throat, “Don’t make me ask again,” you said slowly before sleeping back, pointing at the bed.
He nodded softly before slowly making his way to sit on the edge of his bed. His eyes stayed glued to you as he took his place. You followed him slowly, standing between his legs as he gazed up at you, “Better. It’s good when you listen,”
“What are you gonna do?” he mumbled as his hands went to reach for your hips.
You grabbed his wrists softly before he could, “I’m going to give you what you deserve,” you smiled, pushing his hands back to step away.
Before Aegon could protest your hands found the ties of your dress. He swallowed thickly as you unlaced them, allowing the heavy fabric to pool to the floor. Left standing in your thin shift you felt a rush of energy go through you as his eyes drank you in.
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.
“Blasphemous,”
“I don’t care,” he was too distracted by your figure to notice your smirk.
You stepped closer, lifting his chin with your finger. You smirked as his cheeks tinged pink. Your hand stroked gently over his cheek. A quick glance down and you could see he was ready. “Get rid of those,” you instructed and instantly he obeyed, “And lay down,”
Without moments Aegon was laying naked, on his bed, an excited look on his face. You moved to straddle his lap, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He tried to follow them when you pulled away, but you kept a hand on his chest.
“Patience,” you chastised, “Good things come to those who wait,”
“I don’t think I can wait,” he mumbled.
You ignored him as you leaned down to kiss his cheek, then along his jaw. Just as you began to kiss his neck you lowered your hips, pressing your clothed core against him. He moaned softly as you began to grind against him.
You felt his hands on your hips and pushed them away, “Not yet,” you said, pinning them softly down onto the bed.
“Sorry,” he moaned, gasping when you pressed harder.
After all good behaviour got rewarded. You released one wrist, taking him into your hand. He moaned softly; eyes fluttery shut as you worked your magic. You enjoyed the little sounds he’d make as your kisses moved lower.
Eventually you released your grip on his other wrist as you kissed softly down his chest. However, when you felt his hand move to your hair, you let him go. “What?” he whined as you moved back up his frame.
“You haven’t earned it yet,” you smiled softly, running a hand over his soft locks.
“What do you want?” he asked, his eyes desperately searching yours as his body craved release.
You let your fingers trail down his face till they graced his lips, “I think you know,” you said, and his eyes turned hungry.
Slowly you moved further up till you hovered over his face, “Can I touch you?” he asked, his cool breath fanning over you making chills run down your spine.
“Yes,” you said as you gently lowered yourself down. You couldn’t help but gasp when his tongue began rubbing over your clit. His hands found your thighs, pulling you further down as you grabbed onto his headboard.
Curses fell from your lips as his tongue worked wonders on your bundle of nerves. He moved his head, his tongue now curling inside you as his nose nuzzled your clit. Your hips began to buck, grinding against his face. He let out a low groan, vibrations shooting up your spine.
“Good boy,” the small whisper seemed to egg him on as his movements grew faster. His moans grew louder. It was becoming impossible to hold on as a knot tightened in your belly.
your nails dug into the wood of the headboard as you let out a loud gasp when your peak crashed over you. You kept riding his face till you milked every drop of the pleasure.
Slowly, once you could move your legs again, you moved down his frame again. “You’re amazing,” he said, face wet as his eyes gazed at you with stary like wonder.
“I think you’ve earned a reward,”
Fire sparked in his eyes. He watched with bated breath as you positioned yourself over him. You lined him up, rubbing him against your slit and watching his eyes flutter shut. “Fuck,” he groaned as you slowly sank down.
Your hips moved slow at first, riding him at a tortuous pace. He went to grab your hips but stopped himself. He looked up at you, silently asking permission. You gave a curt nod, a simple smile, and suddenly his fingers dug deep into your hips. “you feel so good,” he mumbled in bliss.
You felt him start to twitch and just as quickly as you brought him to the brink, you pulled away. “What-?” his eyes shot open, searching the room as if someone had caught you, only to discover you’d stopped for seemingly no reason, “Why-?”
“Do you really think you’ve earned that yet?” you chastised, “After all your stunts?” your hand brushed against his cheek as his eyes went wide. You smirked gently, “Oh sweet one, I want to enjoy this,”
You moved down his body till you were between his legs. Your hands reached for the edge of your shift and Aegon watched with bated breath as you pulled it off. “You better not forget what happens to boys who don’t behave,”
You took him in your hand again, leaning down to place a soft kiss to his tip. Aegon hissed at the feeling. He groaned loudly as you began to kiss down the shaft, “Don’t worry,” you told him, “I’ll let you finish,” you licked up the side making him moan, his eyes shutting involuntarily, “eventually,”
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verstappensrealwife · 7 months ago
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Casual (Part 1 of 2) - Lando Norris x Reader
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[max verstappen masterlist / lando norris masterlist / f1 masterlist]
ʚɞ in which... lando can't give her what she wants, but max can. ʚɞ smut, angst ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 1600 words ʚɞ warnings: lando=ENEMY #1, brief MV1 x reader right at the end, smut(oral fem!recieve), fwb except they’re barely friends…
PART 2 HERE
My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around I've heard so many rumors That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch I thought you thought of me better Someone you couldn't lose You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss, I have anger issues
Your friends had warned you about him, their voices laced with concern and frustration. They saw what you couldn't—or perhaps refused to see. What did they know? Clearly more than you…
You always went back to Lando Norris. Each time, you convinced yourself that this time would be different. That he'd finally see you the way you saw him. But every encounter ended the same: the dreaded "We're not together… it's only casual," followed by a kiss so passionate it blurred the lines between love and pain.
It made you furious, the way he toyed with your heart, dangling hope just out of reach. Yet, against your better judgment, you returned to him, surrendering to the illusion of affection. Each kiss, each touch, was a cruel reminder of what could never be. The cycle was a slow burn, eroding your self-worth with every fleeting moment of his attention.
In the quiet of your room, the weight of his words crushed you, leaving behind an ache that no kiss could ever heal. And still, you’d find yourself going back, lost in the hope that one day, maybe, he’d change his mind. But deep down, a part of you knew: some things, some people, never change.
You said, "Baby, no attachment" But we're Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out Is it casual now? Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends It's casual, if it's casual now Then baby, get me off again If it's casual, it's casual now
You’d met his parents, shared laughter around their dinner table, and walked through the rooms of their family home. Those moments had felt like glimpses into a future you yearned for, yet he never craved you in the way you did for him. The warmth of their acceptance was a cruel contrast to the cold reality of his indifference.
Now, in the cramped footwell of your car, parked in a dingy, deserted lot, he was devouring you with a fervor that belied his emotional detachment. His tongue flickered and vibrated against your clit, his moans echoing in the confined space. The raw pleasure was a stark contrast to the sterile, unfeeling nature of your relationship.
“Fuck, fuck! Lando, you're so good at this—” you gasped, your body arching in response to his skillful movements. “I’m all yours,” you breathed, the words slipping out as a desperate plea for a connection that went beyond the physical.
After you’d finished, the euphoria fading, he climbed out of the compressed space on your car floor. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken truths. He didn't say much, just the bare minimum, as if to avoid breaking the fragile illusion you clung to.
“I’ll get an Uber,” he mumbled, his phone already in hand, the app open. It stung—he hadn’t even planned to stay.
You hummed quietly, a sound barely louder than a sigh, and he hopped out of the car, giving you a tight-lipped smile that felt more like an apology than a goodbye. The door shut with a finality that echoed in the silence. You huffed gently, the weight of disappointment pressing on your chest, and turned the keys, the engine roaring to life as you drove away, the emptiness in the passenger seat a stark reminder of his absence.
Dumb love, I love being stupid Dream of us in a year Maybe we'd have an apartment And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier
You often found yourself lost in thoughts of a different future, imagining a day where he loved you openly, where you weren't a secret kept from the public eye. In these dreams, he didn't rush you out of his apartment after a night spent together; instead, he held you close in the morning light, his embrace lingering with a sense of permanence.
You envisioned a future where you might move in together, sharing a space that was yours as much as his. In your mind's eye, you saw him introducing you to his friends proudly, not as an awkward afterthought. You imagined gatherings where you were welcomed, not just tolerated because you'd been accidentally caught post-intimacy in his driver’s room.
The reality, though, was a stark contrast. Max and Carlos had stumbled upon you once, the awkwardness palpable, and since then, any potential friendships had withered before they could begin. You never really met Max or Carlos after that, except for those few, brief encounters in stores, where you'd exchange polite smiles and hurried conversations, pretending the memories didn’t hang heavy in the air.
I know what you tell your friends It's casual, if it's casual now
After that incident, Lando had—of course—kicked you straight out of the room, leaving you to wander the paddock alone. The sense of isolation was crushing, each step echoing the emptiness you felt inside. As you scurried away, you couldn’t help but overhear his conversation with Max and Carlos. Their voices carried through the air, each word a dagger to your already wounded heart.
You caught a glimpse of their faces as you slipped past them, their expressions a mix of pity and discomfort. The look in their eyes only deepened your humiliation.
“It’s just casual,” Lando's voice was dismissive, almost careless. “I don’t like her like that… she’s just a good time, I guess.”
The words hung in the air, each one a brutal confirmation of your worst fears. You felt a sting of tears welling up but forced them back, swallowing the lump in your throat. The pain of his indifference was almost unbearable, a stark reminder of the chasm between your feelings and his.
It's hard being casual When my favorite bra lives in your dresser It's hard being casual When I'm on the phone talking down your sister
He’d insisted you leave clothes at his house, especially your underwear—the ones he liked on you. Sometimes, he would insist you put them on for him when you were at his place. In those moments, it made you feel special, as if leaving a part of yourself behind in his space meant something significant. Maybe it meant nothing...
You grew close with his sisters, exchanging likes on social media posts and sending each other TikToks you thought the other would enjoy. It was a small but cherished connection that made you feel more integrated into his life.
One evening, during a video call with his sister, she hesitated before asking, "Are you and Lando official?" Her eyes held a softness, a knowing look that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken truths.
Before you could respond, Lando snatched the phone from his sister’s hand, abruptly ending the call. Her expression lingered in your mind—an empathetic sadness that hinted at her understanding of your unreciprocated feelings. You sat in your apartment, staring at the blank homescreen, the silence around you suddenly overwhelming. The quiet was filled with the echoes of all the things left unsaid, the unacknowledged reality of your relationship with Lando.
And I try to be the chill girl that Holds her tongue and gives you space I try to be the chill girl but Honestly, I'm not I know what you tell your friends Baby, get me off again
That night, Lando messaged you, saying he needed space. The words stung, but you left him on read. Minutes later, another text came through, asking if you got his last message. All you replied with was, "Yes."
A few days passed in a haze of silence and self-doubt. Then, his name popped up on your phone again, asking to take you out. The pattern was all too familiar. You knew how it would end: not with a romantic evening, but with you in his apartment, the same empty routine of physical intimacy followed by a lonely departure at dawn.
Despite everything, you would’ve said yes again and again, caught in the cycle of hope and heartache. But this time, as you were about to respond, a new notification appeared at the top of the screen.
“Maxverstappen1 has requested to follow you.” “Maxverstappen1 has requested to message you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Max, with his quiet confidence and genuine smiles, was a stark contrast to Lando’s fleeting attentions. You thought back to the brief conversations in stores, the way Max's eyes seemed to hold a depth of understanding, a kindness that Lando never showed. He had always treated you with respect, even in those short interactions, and now he was reaching out.
Curiosity and a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a long time—hope—bubbled up inside you. You hesitated for only a moment before accepting his follow request and opening his message.
“Hey, I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime?”
The simplicity and sincerity of his message were refreshing. Max wasn’t playing games; he wasn’t hiding you or keeping you at arm’s length. As you read his words, you realized how much you craved that kind of straightforward, genuine connection.
In that moment, you knew you’d rather be with someone like Max—someone who saw you as more than just a fleeting distraction. You typed out a response, feeling a sense of anticipation and relief wash over you.
“Hi Max, I’d love to. When are you free?”
--
did you love it did you love it did you love it should i make a part 2 for max did you love it hello???
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aleexoxosstuff · 8 days ago
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-“IN ANOTHER LIFE”
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Pairing: 𝖩𝗎𝗇-𝖧𝗈 𝗑 𝖿𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖼é!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
Summary: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝗎𝗇-𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.
Warning: 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍…, 𝖩𝗎𝗇-𝗁𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀!, 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍
𝖶𝖼: 5.9 𝗄 (𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀…)
𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗌!!
𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾, 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗓𝖺’𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍…
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ENDING YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH Jun-Ho was never a part of your plans.
During your time together, you felt like you floated on a cloud, enveloped in the warmth of his unwavering attention. He indulged your every desire, showering you with dates and gifts, leaving you with the lingering thoughts that you were unworthy of his devotion. Each moment spent with him felt like a scene from a romantic film, where the world faded away, and it was just the two of you.
You remember the way he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration, as if you were the most precious thing in the world. The way he listened intently to anything you had to say, offering support and encouragement, made you feel seen in a way you had never experienced before.
You questioned whether you truly deserved the life he was offering you. You found yourself grappling with the doubts of your relationship, wondering if you could ever truly match the love he so freely gave. When he proposed you began to overthink like never before. Your friends cooed at the sparkling ring on your finger while bringing up how hard it must be dating a detective and how dangerous the career was. Before it was never a problem, now it was all on your mind.
As time passed, the weight of your insecurities started seeping into the relationship, casting shadows over the two of you. You found yourself hesitating to express your true feelings, fearing that if you told him everything, he might realize it was a mistake proposing to you.
Despite these internal struggles, the thought of ending things with Jun-Ho felt unfathomable. He was not just a partner; he was everything you had dreamed of as a kid. The idea of walking away from the love that had enveloped you in such warmth was something you couldn't ever think of doing. Instead, you clung to the hope that you could bridge the gap between your self-doubt and the love he offered, believing that perhaps, in time, you would get better.
When he told you that he would be gone for a couple of days for a work trip you were nervous. Several possibilities roamed your mind as he tried you reassure you he’d be fine. After avoiding a nervous breakdown and making him promise to return safely, you reluctantly agreed to let him go. You and his mother kept each other company while he was away, wanting to comfort one another. You went to work despite the eye-bags under your eyes, if people ever saw them they pretended not to notice out of pity. After work, you would greet his mother at your door, quietly eat dinner with minimal talk, and cry late into the night quiet enough for her not to wake up.
Upon receiving the call that he was hospitalized, it felt as though the very breath had been stolen from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air in a world that suddenly seemed darker and more uncertain. The thoughts that engulfed your mind as you learned of his precarious condition. The haunting fear that he might not see another day settled heavily in your chest, a weight that threatened to crush you under its intensity.
When you finally arrived at the hospital, the sight of him struck you like a physical blow. He appeared as a shadow of himself, a mere echo of the vibrant person you once knew. Adorned with a neck brace that seemed to confine him even further, and bandages that marred his skin, he lay there, vulnerable and fragile. The machines around him beeped rhythmically, a constant reminder of the life that hung in the balance, and you felt a deep ache in your heart as you took in the scene before you.
You remained steadfast by his side, your fingers entwined with his throughout the night, holding on as the hours slipped into the early morning light. Each minute felt like an eternity, and you found yourself whispering silent prayers, hoping against hope that he could hear you, that he could feel your presence anchoring him to this world. The warmth of your hand in his was a small comfort, a lifeline amid chaos, and you clung to it as if it were the only thing keeping you both tethered.
His mother, equally distraught, bore her own anguish, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. You could see the weight of her worry etched into her features, the lines of fear and despair deepening with each passing moment. In that shared space of grief, you felt a profound sense of helplessness, unable to comfort her while grappling with your own despair. The air was thick with unspoken words, a shared understanding of the fragility of life that hung heavily between you.
As the night wore on, the hospital room became a sanctuary of sorts, a place where time seemed to stand still. You exchanged glances with his mother, each one laden with the weight of unexpressed fears and hopes. You wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be alright, but the truth was that you didn’t know. When he finally woke up, you gasped, afraid that your mind was playing tricks on you, wanting to play with you. Then, he said your name so delicately that tears had immediately fallen down your cheeks. You yelled out for the nurses to come, scared that he would fall back into unconsciousness. They pushed you aside gently as they checked up on him, his eyes stayed on you as you walked out to call his mother.
Hours later, they finally let the two of you have a peaceful moment to yourselves. You sat on the bed from the little space available as you caressed his face delicately. You didn’t want to disrupt the calm atmosphere, you wanted to know the truth but understood he might not be ready. His eyes softened as they watched your eyes study his features. His thumb grazed your left hand, messing with the ring that stood proudly on your ring finger. He watched your mouth twitch up, but it only stayed a moment before it faded away.
It was hard on the both of you, your relationship not being the same after he left. You longed for the days when everything felt effortless when love flowed freely between you without the burden of doubt or fear. Yet, as he returned, you made the conscious decision to refrain from asking him about what exactly had happened during his absence. You sensed that he was dealing with his own emotions, and the last thing you wanted was to add to his burden. Instead, you chose to leave the issue alone and be there when he was ready to share.
However, concern for his well-being weighed heavily on your heart. You could see the shadows of his struggles reflected in his eyes, and it pained you to witness the toll that had taken on him. This deep-seated worry compelled you to pause all wedding preparations, despite him saying he wanted to be married to you already. You both understood, perhaps more than anyone else, that the scars of recent events had yet to heal. The thought of making such a significant commitment loomed over you like a cloud, casting doubt on whether you were truly prepared to take that leap together. You held onto the hope that, in time, you would emerge stronger, ready to embrace the future you both envisioned.
Your apartment together was too quiet, Jun-ho went back to work as a detective which you voiced your discomfort over, but he’d dismissed you quickly and avoided the topic. You would clean the apartment spotless, cook his favorite meals, anything to try and make him open up more. All he would do was give you a gentle kiss before making his way to your shared room.
You couldn’t handle it anymore, after six long months you were tired. It was another night when Jun-ho would brush you off, his eye-bags showing how exhausted he was. You called out to him, grabbed his hands, and led him to sit down beside you. When you told him that he needed to take a break from working he finally blew up.
“Quit acting so worried, I’ve told you several times that I’m fine. Not even my mother acts so worried about me.” He shot out, he quickly grew annoyed by you. He took his hand out of your hold and sighed in frustration. You were hurt, never before had he talked to you like this, the two of you never even fought much, there were little disagreements. You had a feeling that this would spiral out of control.
“I’m your fiance, I have a right to tell you when you need to take a break. You have no idea how worrying it is seeing you go back to work knowing how dangerous it is.” You scoffed out, following him as he stood up, making his way to the room where the two of you spent countless nights together. You weren’t going to give up on this, you needed to vent out all of your frustrations.
“Do you know how hard it is for me? I’m trying to move on from what happened.” He says with his back facing you, not able to look you in the eye as he speaks. You wanted to comfort him but anger surged through you as you spewed out words you’d been keeping to yourself for months.
“From what? For months you’ve pushed me away ever since the incident and I have no clue what even happened to you! Do you know how terrifying it was when you returned with a bullet shot through your shoulder?!” You yelled out, you wanted him to understand how hurt you were, that you hated being in the dark for months not knowing what happened to the only man you ever loved.
“I’m not a child, I know how to take care of myself.” Jun-ho exasperated. He was now sitting on the bed, stripping from his shirt that stuck to him. You eyed him in irritation. You didn’t like how he tried to brush off your words, instead focusing on taking a shower.
“You’re so cruel Jun-ho, I love you of course I’m going to worry about you. You come home exhausted to even talk to me about your day, everyday it’s the same routine, you eat, take a shower, and then go to sleep.” You cried out, unable to understand why he was being so cruel with his actions. You couldn’t fathom that this was the same man who would trap you in a hug until you forgave him for the littlest of disagreements.
“I’m tired of it. I’m tired of all of this Jun-ho.” You pleaded, a tear slipping from your eye, you could feel them finally coming down. Your throat tightened up in pain and an aching pain was beginning to build up in your heart.
“Shit, all you’ve done is smother me and act like I'm going to break any minute. That’s what I’m tired of. I get off work and you tread around me like I’m a stranger in our apartment.” He snapped, looking you in the eyes as he towered over you. He softened for a moment as he wiped the tears off your cheeks that reddened at how angry you were. You moved from his touch, ignoring his face drop, and pressed a finger at his bare chest.
“Oh yeah? If that’s how you feel then why did you never tell me how you felt? A relationship is supposed to make you feel secure enough to be vulnerable.” You spat out, yanking your finger away when he grabbed onto it to stop you from poking him. He sighed once more pulling you out of the way and making his way to the shower.
“Quit backing out of this conversation and tell me how you really feel!”
“I feel that you're suffocating me in this fucking relationship! I feel that I’m fucking tired of you treating me delicately, and I’m exhausted from being near you when you try to pretend everything is fine.” He clenched his jaw while pointing his finger back at you. Jun-ho’s eyebrows were furrowed together as his chest heaved up and down in anger.
“Then maybe this fucking relationship was a mistake huh? If you’re sooo unhappy then leave me the fuck alone.” He rolled his eyes at your words, not taking them seriously enough for consideration. He thought that you both needed to calm down before you ended up ripping each other's heads apart.
“You don’t even make sense anymore, we need some space from each other.” Without another word, he opened the door to the restroom and closed it behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself down before he heard your voice shakily yell back at him.
“Fine then, if that’s what you want then you’ll get it.” He hesitated before turning the water on, stepping out from the rest of his clothes. He heard rustling from your shared bedroom but assumed you were getting ready for bed.
You were engulfed in a whirlwind of anger and sorrow. The echoes of your argument replayed in your mind in a loop, each word bringing you to silent tears. As you thought back on the heated exchange, it became painfully clear to you what he had been feeling all along—his frustration, his hurt, and the unspoken words that had lingered between you like a thick fog. The realization settled heavily in your chest, a weight that made it hard to breathe.
With trembling hands, you rose to your feet, the urgency of the moment making you jump into action. You stumbled toward the corner of the room, where the suitcase lay hidden beneath the bed. You began hastily packing your clothes, shoving items into the suitcase without much thought—shirts, skirts, a favorite sweater that still carried his scent. Each piece felt like a memory you were trying to escape, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to leave it behind entirely.
The oppressive atmosphere of the room, filled with memories of the two of you, felt unbearable. The walls seemed to close in around you, suffocating in memories. You could almost hear the laughter that once echoed through the space, the quiet moments of intimacy that had turned into silence. You knew he would soon emerge from the shower, and with urgency, you finished gathering your things, your heart racing as you zipped the suitcase shut. You took one last look around the room, a bittersweet end to a life you had built together, and headed for the door.
As you descended the stairs, each step felt like a countdown, the sound of the water stopping above you signaling that he was wrapping up his shower. You could almost picture him, the steam rising around him, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing just outside the bathroom door. Your heart ached at the thought of leaving him, but the need to escape was overpowering.
Your gaze fell upon the ring you once wore with pride, a symbol of love and commitment that now felt like a shackle. A pang of realization hit you, reminding you that it no longer belonged on your finger. It was made out of a promise that had been broken. With a heavy heart, you carefully removed the gleaming ring, feeling its weight shift from your finger to your palm, as if it were a piece of your former self. The cool metal felt foreign against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the memories it held. You placed it gently on the coffee table, the soft thud echoing in the eerily silent apartment.
With one last glance at the ring, you turned away, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders. You quietly stepped out of the eerily silent apartment, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that echoed in your mind. The world outside felt vast and uncharted, a stark contrast to the confines of the life you were leaving behind. As you walked away, each step felt like your heart was breaking more.
Before you knew it, you stood in front of your mother's house ringing the doorbell. After a quiet moment, she opened the door with tired eyes. Once she took in your appearance she cooed at you as you moved into her embrace. You trembled in her arms as she shushed you quietly, rocking the both of you back and forth.
“Mom, can I stay here for a while?” You asked after you calmed down, breaking away from the hug. She quickly noticed the absence of your missing ring and nodded firmly, taking you inside to the house you once called home.
Jun-ho was anxious when he didn’t see you lying down in the bed, the apartment being dead silent as his fatigue began to catch up to him. Against his better judgment, he assumed you fell asleep downstairs on the couch, something you had done frequently since he came back from the hospital. There were days when you’d wait for him to come home late into the night, falling asleep before he’d make it back.
He knew he had to apologize to him for his cruel words, knowing he let his anger out on someone he knew deserved the most for dealing with him and his trauma. Jun-ho knew he was way out of your league, and deserved someone who didn’t have baggage. When he met you he let himself be selfish and chased after you until you grew to like him like how he was infatuated with him. He began to slip into a deep sleep dreaming of the beginning of your relationship unbeknownst to your growing absence.
When he spotted the ring glinting on the coffee table as he walked by that morning, he came to a sudden halt. The sunlight streaming through the window caused the ring to shine brightly, sending tiny rainbows dancing across the room. It was as if he was hallucinating everything that happened—the argument from the night before, the dazzling ring that left him almost gasping to breathe; everything felt surreal.
He was already almost late for woke and he quickly jumped into his car, the engine roaring to life as he began to drive. He fumbled for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed your number, each ring increasing his anxiety. After seven attempts, each one met with the same beep, he felt a knot of desperation tighten in his chest. Just as he was about to give up hope, he pressed the call button one last time.
On the eighth call, he finally heard your voice, and a wave of relief washed over him. He could feel the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, but the urgency in his heart remained.
“Hello?” you answered, your tone a mix of disdain and exhaustion, the sun was barely out and he knew you didn’t enter work until later in the morning. He winced as he began to sputter out a string of words.
“I’m sorry, you need to come back and let me apologize properly. Shit, I was having a bad day and took it out on you.” He blurted out, his words tumbling over one another in his haste. “We need to talk.”
As he listened to you sigh exasperated, halting him from speaking, he gripped the ring that felt heavy in his palm. It belonged on your finger; its only purpose was to show how much he loved you.
“Keep it; I told you you’d get what you wanted, after today, you’ll never hear from me again.” You spoke out bluntly; you gave your mom a soft nod as she watched you in concern, your stepmother beside her as she tried listening to the conversation. Your rigid posture was enough to let her know who you were on the phone with.
“ __ , I know you deserve better, but please don’t do this, I want to make things right. I love you.” He pleaded, causing your breath to get caught in your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes and your heart felt heavy as you spoke up once more.
“You were so fucking mean, you’ve pushed me away so many times that I can’t deal with it anymore. We’re not meant for each other, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the person you opened up to.” You quickly hung up the phone, leaving him gripping the steering wheel in silence. You tucked your knees to your chest as your parents ran by your side, comforting you in your childhood home. You didn’t want to fight anymore; you knew you needed to let go of him. If he didn’t want your help, then there was no future together as husband and wife.
It has been nearly four months since your breakup with Jun-ho, and you still find it hard to move on. Your finger felt bare without your engagement ring on your finger, a constant reminder of the future you had left along with him. You remember the way he would slip the ring onto your finger, his eyes sparkling with love and hope, and now that memory feels like a cruel joke.
When you shared the news of your breakup with friends and extended family, their reactions were filled with disbelief; no one saw it coming, especially given the deep respect and love you both had for one another. They had always admired the way you complemented each other and how effortlessly you looked together as a couple. The shock on their faces only deepened how much you regretted everything, mourning the end of a relationship but also the dreams that you had for your future. Their attempts to console you felt hollow; you knew they didn’t truly understand how you felt.
Initially, Jun-ho tried to reach out and make things right, sending flowers to your workplace, each bouquet more extravagant than the last. He left them with a colleague who seemed to find his gestures amusing, often teasing you about how romantic he was being. But the flowers now felt like a burden, a reminder of what you had lost. His messages and calls became a relentless tide, crashing against the walls you were trying to build around your heart. You felt overwhelmed, suffocated by his attempts to reconnect, prompting you to silence his number, to create a barrier between you and the pain of his absence.
Yet, despite everything, you hesitated to block him completely. A small part of you clung to the hope that he might need you in case of an emergency, that perhaps he would reach out and you would be there to support him as you always had. It was conflicting, torn between the desire to protect your heart and the instinct to be there for someone you still loved so deeply. The thought of completely severing ties felt like a betrayal, to the promises you’ve made to him.
Then, three weeks ago, he stopped. Your mother, sensing your distress, tried to comfort you with her gentle words, suggesting that he was simply respecting the space you both needed to process everything.
Guilt washed over you like a tide, pulling you under. You felt guilty for wanting him to continue pursuing you, even after you had decided to end things. It was a confusing mix of emotions—longing for his attention while wanting to honor the choice you had made. You had thought that stepping back would bring clarity, but instead, it left you feeling more lost than ever. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart raced with hope, only to sink when it was just a notification from work or a reminder of an upcoming event.
You were brought back to reality when someone tapped on your shoulder. You gave a shaky smile to the woman who beamed up at you. Jun-ho’s mother wrapped you up in a hug, her frail arms tightly squeezing your waist. You returned the gesture and gently encased her in a hug. Once she released, she gave your reddened cheeks a soft pat.
“Look at you, are you sure you’re eating properly?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow, which you giggled at. You didn’t realize how much you missed the short woman until now.
“You know how work gets. I’ve gotten a promotion at work, so I’ve been wrapped up with things there.” You admit, shying away from the woman as she playfully smacked your shoulder. Your eyes wandered past her, worried yet hopeful to see if perhaps her son joined her at the market. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he was. Did he move on already? Has he been eating? Was work still eating him up?
As if she knew who you were looking for, she quickly spoke up.
“He’s at work right now; he’s a traffic cop now and has been busy with that. Told me it wasn’t worth it anymore.” Your body froze as you cast your gaze downward to the floor. You couldn’t believe it; you knew that he loved his job, even with how dangerous it was.
“Y’know, when he told me about the flowers he would leave you at work to try and apologize. I had to yell at the boy for him to realize you needed time. Even with him being my son, I viewed you as my own daughter and I understood you. I hope that you can find it in you to work it out with him. I wanted to see the two of you get married already.” She revealed everything all at once that you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs.
You missed him; you missed the apartment you shared where you would sleep by each other, you missed having late dinners with him as you watched a new show together. Even with the last few months being hard on you both, you realized that you loved him too much to even think of moving on with your life without him by your side.
You tried to talk to talk, opening your mouth and then closing it when nothing came out. She gave you a wink before walking off, wishing to see you soon again. You thought that maybe this was her plan all along, to make you realize how much you deserved to make things right and be happy again with her son.
After going back to your parent's house and letting them know your plans, you quickly earned their approval. They’ve always liked Jun-ho, he was the first boyfriend they liked and did everything perfectly to earn their praise. When he had decided to propose to you, they were ecstatic with him, they loved you dearly and saw him as the only person worthy of you.
With their quick encouragement, you made your way to your once-shared apartment, where some of your things still lay there, frozen in place. As you stand outside the door, debating whether you should back down and turn around, You ring the doorbell before you turn back. It was beginning to get dark out, and you became terrified if you made the right choice. For all you knew, a woman could open the door and laugh in your face.
Then he opened the door.
He stood still, the weariness etched on his face fading as he truly focused on you. The world around him blurred into a distant hum, and in that moment, it felt as if time had paused just for the two of you. Doubts swirled in his mind—was this really happening? Was the love of his life standing before him, looking just as beautiful as the day he lost you? The way your hair caught the light, the sparkle in your eyes, and the gentle curve of your nervous smile all seemed to pull him back to a time when everything felt right.
It took him some time to come to terms with the fact that you deserved to hear the whole truth. He had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, each scenario playing out with different outcomes, but none could prepare him for the reality of standing in front of you again. You were meant to be his future wife, and that meant he had to share everything with you—the good, the bad, and the painful truths he had buried deep within himself.
He had been a mess during your time apart, a whirlwind of emotions that left him feeling lost and hollow. Each day was a struggle, filled with the haunting memories of what once was and the crushing weight of regret. He constantly questioned if he would ever get the opportunity to set things right, just as he had intended to do after leaving the hospital. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, each moment stretching into an eternity as he grappled with the fear that he might never see you again.
But now, standing before you, he felt a flicker of hope igniting within him. The air was thick with unspoken words, and he knew he had to break the silence. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared to lay bare his heart. his voice trembling slightly as he spoke
“You’re here.” He broke the silence between you two, opening the door wider for you. Taking a shallow breath in, you made your way inside, dropping your purse on the very coffee table where you left your ring.
You were unsure how to respond, not knowing where to even start. Did you apologize for leaving him through a phone call? Were you supposed to kneel down and begin crying for forgiveness? Do you yell at him for being so cruel to you that night?
Despite everything that went through your head, your first instinct was to smash your lips against his. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of his presence. Almost immediately, his hands encircled your waist, drawing you nearer as he surrendered to the sensation of your delicate fingers entwined in his hair, gripping it with fervor.
A shiver cascaded over your skin, a tingly feeling that coursed through your body, and he responded with a gentle smile that rose up, making your heart race even faster. His hands glided up and down your waist in a tender caress, each movement sending an amount of warmth through you. The two of you remained entwined in that moment, lost in the magic of each other’s embrace, the outside world forgotten.
With a hint of reluctance, you pulled away, your breath mingling in the space between you. You observed as his eyes fluttered open after a brief pause. In that fleeting moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire his features—the way the light danced in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lips, and the way his hair fell effortlessly across his forehead.
A smile blossomed on both your faces, and you felt an overwhelming sense of joy. Without thinking, you leaned back into him, your lips meeting his once more in a fervent kiss, a kiss that spoke of longing, desire, and the promise of what was yet to come. The world around you faded again, and all that existed was the two of you, lost in a moment of finally having each other after months of being separated.
“I’ve missed you so much, don’t ever let me treat you like I did ever again” He spoke between kisses, lifting you up in his arms, and like muscle memory you wrapped your legs around his waist. You let him led you up the stairs and into the room where you’ve done it several times before, only now the two of you were as desperate as ever. He kissed down your neck, unbuttoning you blouse as you tilted you head back. Less and less clothes appeared on your bodies as you finally let out the stress that had been building up between the two of you.
One year and a half later . . .
A gentle smile graced your lips as you sensed a tender kiss upon your temple. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the warm gaze of your husband, his smile radiating affection like the first light of dawn breaking through the darkness. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent promise of support and devotion that filled your heart with joy.
He drew you nearer, mindful of your belly that carried his child, a precious life that left the both of you feeling excited. Jun-ho entwined your fingers, his touch gentle yet firm, grounding you in the present moment. His other hand lovingly traced the curve of your abdomen, his fingertips dancing lightly over the skin smiling as he felt his baby.
“Can you feel them?” he whispered, his voice breaking the calm atmosphere.You nodded, a smile breaking across your face as you felt the tiny kicks and movements of your little girl.
Jun-ho’s eyes sparkled with excitement. You could see how excited he was of becoming a dad and you shared the same sentiment .
In that intimate space, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the life you were creating together. You felt a swell of happiness envelope you as he pressed another kiss into your hair. As you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. You were nervous of becoming a mother, much like how you felt becoming a wife but your parents, Jun-ho, and your mother-in-law all reassured you.
The moment you exchanged vows, a wave of excitement washed over you. The morning had been a flurry of nerves, each heartbeat echoing in anxiety. You had spent hours meticulously preparing, surrounded by the three remarkable women in your life—your parents, and your mother-in-law. They offered words of encouragement, shared knowing smiles, and reminded you of the love that had brought you to this moment.
After months of planning, every detail painstakingly arranged, you were now united with Jun-ho in the bond of marriage. The weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a lightness that made you feel as if you were floating.
In that instant, the doubts that had once clouded your mind seemed utterly trivial, like wisps of smoke dissipating in the breeze. You realized how silly it was to question if you and Jun-ho were meant to be. The worries that had plagued you—about the future, about compatibility, about the challenges that lay ahead—faded as you met him at the alter.. Jun-ho had showed how much he loved you, his eyes sparkling with sincerity as he spoke words that your souls were eternally intertwined, destined to find each other again and again, no matter the circumstances.
As you looked into his eyes, you felt a profound connection that transcended time and space. It was as if the universe had knew all along you were meant to be together. With each passing second, the joy of your union blossomed within you, filling your heart with an overwhelming sense of happiness. You didn’t have to wait another life to be together with Jun-ho, because you were meant to be in this one.
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jeneveuxrein · 6 months ago
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better (ITZY Ryujin)
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word count: 13.6K
(much overdue, and the pacing pissed me off that i gave up with editing. regardless, enjoy)
-- -- -- 
Shin Ryujin was seventeen when you met. 
You were at the tattoo shop, drawing in your sketchbook since you recently started as an apprentice, when she walked in. You didn’t know who she was at first because she looked young to be there, innocent, shielded from the sad reality of life. The thought of a teenager rebelling against their parents’ wishes was at the top of your list. Why would a girl like that be in a place like this? She was cute—pretty even, that you were sure that if she was closer to your age, you’d approach her. 
She appeared to be looking for someone anyways. 
That someone was her brother, the owner of this establishment, and your mentor. Ryuseong greeted her, patting her head, as she pushed him off. She pouted, rolling her eyes, which made him laugh. 
You brought your attention back to the paper, shading lightly this design you had been working on. Ryuseong praised you for your designs, appreciating your line work, which was the reason he took you in. He thought you had potential, something you took seriously. He hadn’t let you practice on people yet, but you were getting there. He had a couple clients willing, so it was only a matter of time. 
You heard your name being called, breaking your concentration that your hand slips, an unintended line messing up the sketch. You sighed to see Ryuseong waving you over. It wasn’t like you could say no. Reluctantly, you stood up, making your way over and putting on your customer service face. 
Ryuseong introduced you to his little sister, who didn’t give you much except for a bored look and a half-assed handshake. She barely even bowed, so you met her in the same regard. 
“This is my new apprentice,” Ryuseong pulled you in, wrapping a loose arm around your neck. “He’s pretty good. He’ll be tattooing people in no time.” 
“That’s cool,” Ryujin said in a tone that matched her expression. 
It took a lot for you not to roll your eyes, especially in front of your boss. You didn’t, thankfully, awkwardly smiling as he asked her if she wanted to get dinner. He even invited you, which you couldn’t say no to this either. 
Ryujin walked away, leaving you alone with your boss. He chuckles to himself, prompting you to raise an eyebrow. 
“She likes you,” Ryuseong grinned before his face suddenly turned serious. “Just in case, you break her heart, I’ll break your face.” 
You deadpanned, scoffing even. As if you would date Ryujin. There was at least a five-year age gap and she wasn’t like the usual women you dated. Odds were slim to begin with. 
“Come on, hyung,” You shook your head, the thought slightly annoying you. “She’s your sister. I would not date my boss’s sister.” 
A pensive look crossed his face, shrugging, “We’ll see about that.” 
There wasn’t anything to see. 
(At least if there was something to see, you would have seen it. It would have been obvious. 
(It wasn’t.))
-- -- 
The shriek from behind you would have startled you, unintentionally making the wrong movement, earlier in your career. It jolted your client though, causing you to swiftly withdraw the needle before it touched their skin. 
“Yuna-yah,” A familiar voice floated through your ears, followed by a slap. The woman in question whined, and you were certain she was pouting. “Oppa’s working. Be quiet. He needs to concentrate.” 
“It’s fine, Ryujin,” You smiled at your client who lifted his head up to see what the commotion was. You apologized, chuckling as you explained that the woman who yelled wasn’t used to the buzzing of the needle. “And yet she still wants a tattoo,” You joked, even though you thought it was ironic. 
It seemed to put him at ease as the women behind you fell into a hushed conversation. You overheard something about where to eat, and a third voice you also know, asked if they should invite you. 
“Oppa,” You looked at Ryujin once you were done with a minor detail. “How much longer do you have? Unnie wants you to go to dinner with us.” 
Yeji huffed, hitting Ryujin whose nose scrunched. She whined, shoving her face into Yuna’s back. The other girls laughed, shaking their heads at the very well-known crush that Yeji had on you. 
You smirked, Yeji burying her face in more, “I have a little under an hour. I’ll pay if you don’t mind waiting.”
The girls nodded, smiling brightly, that you winked at Yeji. You saw her cheeks blush from across the room, hiding her face behind Yuna. You noticed Ryujin sigh, rolling her eyes at the exchange. 
You found it adorable whenever Ryujin acted like this. You didn’t think you did anything to feed into Yeji’s crush. You were how you always were, but according to Ryujin, you gave her friend the idea that you were into her too.
You weren’t, by any means. You had your interests in someone else. Someone Ryujin knew well, very well, because that someone was her. 
It wasn’t something you expected. 
You should’ve taken it seriously when Ryuseong made that comment all those years ago. 
Ryujin spent a fair amount of time at the tattoo studio. She would often come by after school, and sometimes even on the weekends to help out. You saw her more often than your own girlfriend at the time. There were days she acknowledged your presence with a mumbled hi while other days you barely even got a glance. You didn’t take it personally because she was your boss’s sister. There weren’t any expectations for you to be friends with her. The only expectation you held yourself to was to be polite and respectful. 
It happened slowly, but she started hanging around your table, approaching you with simple questions. She wouldn’t linger, asking before walking back across the room. She sometimes rolled the chair over, curious about whatever sketch you were working on. She didn’t know if she wanted a tattoo herself because she wouldn’t know what kind to get. 
Ryujin asked, one day, about the tattoos on your arm, and after that day, she always sat by you. She kept you within arm’s reach, never invading your space. You didn’t comment on it, conversing with her based on her moods. There was a nice banter and there was a comfortable quiet. You never forced a conversation with her, it always came naturally. She picked up on your moods too, knowing when to keep talking and when to exist.
“Whatever, we’ll be over there,” She gestured to the poker table. “Get us when you’re done.” 
You nodded, dipping the tattoo pen into the ink. She didn’t seem irritated, but you would find out later. 
Unknown to her, Yeji knew something was going on between you. To what extent? You couldn’t say, but she had an idea. She asked you out once before, but it was around the time the lines with Ryujin blurred. You enjoyed watching Ryujin squirm. Maybe it was an ego boost, but you had always been loyal to your partners. 
Yeji still found you attractive, so it was hard not to blush when her friends teased her. It also didn’t help you’d feed into it just to get a reaction out of Ryujin. 
That was always fun.
-- -- 
You stayed late one night, finishing up a design for a client that was going to take about eight hours to complete. You had already met him earlier that day to scale everything on his body along with making any final touches. Ryuseong trusted you enough to close the shop up, so it wasn’t an issue to have the place to yourself while everyone already left. 
You heard footsteps over the music playing and saw Ryujin walking towards you. 
“Leave something?” You asked absentmindedly, shading a section. 
“Forgot my laptop,” Ryujin answered when she got closer. She grabbed the device that you moved to the corner of your desk. You noticed she left it earlier, intending to drop it off at her place on your way home. “What’re you working on?” She pulled up a seat, wheels rolling before stopping once you kicked your foot out. 
“Finishing touches,” Ryujin leaned into your periphery as you kept drawing lines. “Busy with finals?” 
“Don’t remind me,” She groaned, running her fingers through her hair. “I also have this project with Chaeryoung that we need to finish tonight. I’m heading over there now.” 
You hummed in acknowledgment, figuring she got what she needed and would be on her way. She didn’t. She was still next to you. 
“I think I want a tattoo,” Ryujin said suddenly, causing you to look up from your iPad. 
Ryujin and her friends had talked about getting tattoos. They were open to it, but half of them hated needles. The other half didn’t know what they wanted—that was fair, the first tattoo is always the hardest to decide. 
“Is Ryuseong going to be alright with that?” You asked, tapping the screen to save your work. You’d finish later. 
She rolled her eyes, “A bit hypocritical of him if he says no. He has so many.” 
“Tattoos are a bit taboo for women, especially here,” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Gangs and all that.”
“And you’re being sexist,” She slapped your chest lightly. 
“I’m only joking,” You rubbed the spot she hit, as she stuck her tongue out. “Do you know what you’d want? Or where?” 
Ryujin leaned forward, her perfume invaded your senses. You glanced at her lips, shaking the thought of what’d they feel like against yours. “I think,” She paused, crossing one leg over the other, “Maybe somewhere on my rib cage?” 
“Of what?” You cleared your throat, realizing how close she was to you.
“Something small, something cute,” Ryujin smiled softly. “Any ideas?” 
You hadn’t thought about it, but a few come to mind. 
“Where exactly?” You asked, not thinking she’d lift up her sweater along with partially lifting up the sports bra she was wearing. You had never seen so much of her skin. “Uh?”
“Maybe here?” Ryujin traced her finger over a spot. “Now that I think about it, maybe a broken heart?” 
“Someone broke your heart?” You were ready to fight whoever it was. You had grown protective of her over the years. 
Ryujin shook her head, chuckling as she dropped her clothes, “And if someone did? What’re you going to do?” 
You didn’t want to say because she knew of your temper, especially when it came to someone you cared about. 
“I’ll fight them,” You said confidently, crossing your arms. “I don’t care.” 
Ryujin rolled her eyes, muttering something you didn’t quite catch. She rested her head on your shoulder, sighing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to be like this with her. It brought you a sense of closeness, knowing she felt safe with you. 
At least, that was what you told yourself. 
“Can you give me a ride to Chae’s? I took the train here,” Ryujin asked after a moment. “I saw your car out front.” 
You were going to regardless. Her brother would have you dead if anything happened to his sister and you were the last one with her. You shrugged, and she knew what your answer was. 
As you walked out, Ryujin told you about her day. She and Lia had been holed up in the library, studying with an array of snacks. She was looking forward to the girls’ trip they planned to Jeju Island where the only plan was to relax. 
You opened the car door for her, rolling your eyes at her comment of how you were such a gentleman. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this before for her, or for any woman in your life, but coming from her seemed to mean more. 
Ryujin plugged in her phone, scrolling for what song to play as you put the car in drive. She chose something slow and mellow, you had never heard it before, but it sounded nice. 
A comfortable silence blanketed the car ride. The only noise coming from the speakers as Ryujin kept adding songs to the queue. You mindlessly drove to Chaeryoung’s, eyes focused on the road until the song cut in the middle of the chorus. You checked the screen for an incoming call from Rosie. 
“Rosie?” You didn’t miss the slight tilt in Ryujin’s voice, questioning, borderline accusatory. “Answer it. I’ll be quiet.” 
You gave her a pointed look, and her head turned out to the window. You didn’t want to, but reluctantly pressed the button. 
“Oppa,” Rosie’s voice filled the car. The pitch was low, seductive, the kind of voice that spelled trouble in the best kind of way. “What’re you up to?”
“I’m in the car,” You said, hoping she doesn’t say anything too explicit. 
Ryujin shook her head, likely accompanied with an eye roll you couldn’t see. You felt the annoyance roll off her body. 
“I miss you,” Rosie said slowly, the obvious reason why she called. “I could use your help with this problem I know you could fix. Do you want to come over?”
“Oh?” Was all you could say. You glanced at the woman next to you, catching the tail end of an eye roll. “Um,” You paused, unsure of how to answer. It was awkward because you had someone in the car with you, but what made it a hundred times more awkward was it was Ryujin. She elbowed you, nodding to respond. “How about I let you know in about ten minutes?” 
“You’re going to make me wait?” Rosie lightly teased. “Fine. I’m, like, really horny,” Naturally forward in situations like this, “So I’ll be touching my—”
“Got it, Chaeng,” You rushed out before she could finish her sentence. “I’ll call you. Bye.” You ended the call, sending a sheepish smile to Ryujin as she rolled her eyes.
You should explain, though you couldn’t reason why. It almost felt like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t be, guilt weighing on your shoulders when it was normal to have a noncommittal relationship with a woman who saw sex the same way—just that. 
You had met Rosie, or Chaeyoung depending on the day, a few months back while you were out with one of your colleagues. Lisa introduced you since Rosie came with Jennie—the love of Lisa’s life—and simply got to talking. She had a high-stress job that gave her no room for a relationship, and she had no inclination to be in one. Your life was the complete opposite, but you also shared the sentiment on dating. 
Things had progressed after a couple drinks. A few intentional touches on your hand. Her body somehow closer than it started. At one point, her hand rested on your thigh as Lisa told a story. 
You ended the night sleeping together. It was the right amount of casualness that, the morning after, led to Rosie proposing it as a regular thing with the no strings attached clause. You saw nothing wrong with it as it was a means to a biological end. 
Yet you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you did something wrong as Ryujin remained silent the rest of the drive. She didn’t bother to touch her phone to change the song or check any messages. She was just there, blankly staring outside the window as the street lights flickered across her face.
You approached Chaeryoung’s building, pulling up to the curb as you put the car in park. You unbuckled your seatbelt, but Ryujin was faster, opening the door before you could make your way around. 
“Hey,” You called after her as soon as you got out of the car. She was already a couple meters away when she stopped to turn around. “I’m sorry.” You had nothing to apologize for, but you felt the need to. 
Ryujin’s shoulder dropped, and her expression softened. She waited until you met her on the sidewalk before she spoke, “For what?” She kept her voice steady, emotionless even. 
“Just,” You awkwardly gestured to your car, “For that phone call. You shouldn’t have heard any of it.” 
There was a trace of emotion you couldn’t discern, but it vanished before you could. She shrugs, lazily tilting her head slightly backward, “It’s whatever. I told you to answer it anyways.” 
You apologized again, and Ryujin brushed it off. There was still that inkling of doubt, but you didn’t say anymore. You were walking a thin line of what she said versus what she actually meant. You took it at face value. 
You perched yourself on the small brick wall, stretching your legs out as you waited for Chaeryoung to open the door. Ryujin mentioned something about the connection being down so the building occupants weren’t able to open the door remotely.
“Just go. You don’t have to wait,” Ryujin reached for your hands, attempting to pull you up. When you didn’t budge, her arms slacken, but her hands still held yours. She stepped in closer, nearly standing in between your legs. “You have to make a phone call.” 
“Do you want me to?” You asked bluntly. Tired of the internal struggle your mind was in, you had to know. Her eyes widened, surprised, which told you that you were right, something was wrong.
You couldn’t explain what was happening, but whatever shred of decency you had was slipping. Whatever line you drew for yourself when it came to Ryujin was crossed, blurred, erased, as she kept her eyes on you. 
“Well,” Ryujin dropped your hands, crossing her arms over her chest, “If I said no?”
“Then I send her a text and I go home,” You answered honestly. You’d like to think you were a decent guy, doing your best to keep your word. 
“And if I said yes?” She moved enough for her hands to rest on your shoulders. 
“Then I see where the night takes me.” Even though Rosie's tone in the car made it very clear what your night would entail. Ryujin leaned forward, and your arms snaked around her waist to pull her into you, looking up at her. “So which is it?”
She had never been this close, in your space. The urge to kiss her had never felt so strong, that very same urge you pushed so far down because it was Ryujin. Chaeryoung needed to get down here now before you took the woman in your arms back to yours—final project be damned. 
“No,” Pause, “Don’t call her.”
You nodded easily because her eyes promised that it wasn’t going to be with Rosie anymore. It was going to be with her.
“When I get back,” Head leaning forward as she brushed her lips against yours, a sneak peek of what was to come, the contact firing all the nerves in your body. “Wait for me, yeah?” 
You were rendered speechless off a barely kiss that by the time your brain started functioning, the door swung open. Ryujin was out of your arms, composed as if whatever the fuck just happened, didn’t. 
Chaeryoung stepped outside, a curious look as her eyes darted between you. “Am I interrupting something?” 
“Nope,” Ryujin said easily, popping the p as she walked up the steps, leaving you alone. She met her friend at the top. “Thanks for the ride, oppa. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, Ryujin pulled her friend into the building, receiving a curt bye and wave from Chaeryoung as the door shut. 
You had to keep your word, but you weren’t sure if she would. 
You’d find out soon enough.
-- 
Ryujin showed up at your apartment a few days later—six to be exact, but it wasn’t like you were keeping track. There was a knock, a barely heard sound that you had to mute your television to be sure. 
You were surprised to see her, welcoming her in as you opened the door wide open. 
You had minimal contact since you dropped her off at Chaeryoung’s, with small updates on finishing the semester and how the Jeju trip was going. It was more than what you usually send each other, things that didn’t warrant a response. You were inclined to fool yourself into thinking it was her way of making sure you didn’t forget about her. 
(You didn’t. 
You couldn’t. 
Ryujin was all you thought about if you weren’t working.)
You grabbed her luggage from her, putting it to the side. She explained that Yeji dropped her off once they returned. To your surprise again, none of the women questioned why she had to come over especially right after a trip, though she mentioned there were a few raised eyebrows and snickers from Lia and Yuna. 
“So,” Ryujin leaned against the wall. You take in her comfortable wardrobe, an oversized hoodie that reminded you of one you hadn’t seen in a while and a simple pair of sweats. 
“So.” You broke out into a smile when she rolled her eyes. “How was the trip?”
“Good.” Short answer, not adding anything else, but you watched her carefully. Not wanting to pressure into anything because there weren’t any expectations for this visit. “How have things been at the studio?”
“Good.” You replied the same way, internally smirking when you caught her eyebrow twitch. 
“You’re annoying, you know that right?” Ryujin huffed, pushing herself off the wall. 
“And yet, you’re here,” You took a small step forward. Your hand twitched to reach out, but kept that under control.
Patience was what you told yourself.
Ryujin moved closer to you, just enough for her to be within reach. That was when you let the restraint go, wrapping an arm around her to have body pressed against yours. She let out a small hmph as you chuckled. Her hands gently pressed on your chest as she looked up. 
She nearly stole the breath from your lungs when her eyes met yours. She’s beautiful, something you were always aware of, but being this close, made it seem like you had never really seen her. 
“What do you want to do?” You murmured, eyes glancing at her lips. You wondered how she tasted. That kiss, if you could even deem it as one, made you want her. 
“Watch this new drama with me?” It was an innocent suggestion, but based on the look in her eyes, it was the complete opposite. 
You complied, relaxing your arm to let her walk towards the couch. You couldn’t figure out her angle, and honestly, it didn’t matter. If she wanted to draw this tension out, you would go with it until one of you snapped. 
(You hoped it wasn’t going to be you.)
It happened like this. 
Ryujin put whatever show she wanted to watch on as you settled on the couch. She scooted a bit, making room, but it was pointless when she curled herself into you, resting her head in the crook of your neck. 
The opening credits started as your body relaxed into the cushion. You were hyper aware of Ryujin and all the movements she made. She placed her hand on your stomach, a bit lower than you’d say for cuddling. You did your best to ignore your body’s reaction, your cock stirred as her hand found a new spot on the waistband of your sweats.
One minute your attention was on the television, the next Ryujin was on your lap. She pulled you into a searing kiss that you followed without hesitating, letting out a groan the moment her tongue dipped into your mouth. 
The next minute, or however long it was, Ryujin kneeled in between your legs, hand swiftly moving to pull your length out. She didn’t bother with pulling your sweats all the way down, just enough for her to wrap her lips around you. 
“Ryujin,” You groaned through gritted teeth, head tilting backwards as her tongue licked around the tip. 
It had to have lasted longer than a minute because by the time Ryujin popped your now-erect cock out of her mouth, she was undressed, naked, as she straddled you. 
There were too many things happening at once and your brain didn’t have the bandwidth to register it fast enough. You didn’t have time to admire Ryujin’s body because her hand reached for your cock, gently tapping over her clit. And she was soaked. You could probably slide right in between her legs and spontaneously combust because it was all too much. She guided you along her slit, making everything wetter as she teased the tip at her entrance. 
Your hands grabbed onto her hips, the muscles pliable as they tightened to bring her body down. You had one thing on your mind and that was Ryujin. 
As you tried your best to get her to move, Ryujin leaned forward, lips ghosting your ear, “Do you want to know something?”
You didn’t understand why or how she felt the need to tell you whatever was more pressing than getting inside her as quickly as possible. 
“What?” You groaned again as your cock slid in between her lower lips. Your body had a mind of its own, rolling upward for the tip to graze where you need to be at this point. 
“Do you really want to know?” The question came out breathy, voice shaking as you tried to pull her down. 
You didn’t, but her position was firm. She didn’t budge. “Yes, fuck, tell me.” Your control was slipping fast. 
“I’ve thought about this,” Ryujin said as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ve thought about you like this. I always wondered what it’d be like.”
You didn’t share that sentiment, but at this rate with a naked Ryujin squirming on your lap, doing everything to not slide straight down, your imagination ran wild. 
“Well, why don’t we find out?” You grunted, frustrated with her teasing. 
Ryujin strategically placed your tip, shifting her body slightly forward, at her opening. Heat emanated from the contact and you nearly blew your load, embarrassingly enough. You’d like to believe you had a healthy sex life. One that wasn’t outrageous, but one that you indulge in casually, occasionally, with women. You weren’t a stranger to one night stands, but you tended to be consistent with one person.
“You’re definitely bigger than I imagined,” She slowly, so fucking slowly, inserted you, lowering her body as you were immediately engulfed by her warmth. “I don’t know if you’ll fit. It feels tight.”
“Jagiya,” The nickname fell from your mouth too easily, earning a grin from the woman who literally could do anything to you. 
“Jagiya?” Ryujin repeated, tilting her head. “Cute. I didn’t know you thought of me so fondly already.” 
Your mind screamed enough, done with her teasing to the point that you needed to take the control back. 
(You had none left, but that wasn’t the point.) 
In a fluid motion, you switched positions, lifting Ryujin off before she could continue any longer with the torturous pace she tried to set. Her knees fell to the side, and you finally took all of her in. 
“You’re…” You had no words. Her skin was soft, yet firm as you ran your hands down her stomach. The muscles flinched at the touch, watching her tilt her head back as you swiped a broad finger through her folds. “Testing me. You have about five seconds to tell me to stop.”
Ryujin smirked, boldly slipping her hand in between your bodies. Delicate fingers wrapped around your girth, aiming the head directly where you were dying to be. “Do it, jagiya.”
Your hands shot to her waist as you sunk in.
The air left your lungs the moment her warmth hugged your length, her legs spread wider as you continued to sink deeper into her. Her hand fell to the side, gripping the cushion as she let out the hottest moan you ever heard. A sound you wanted to hear again. 
And again the moment you filled her to the hilt. 
You swore you saw the gates of heaven opened up—or hell—welcoming you with a warm, tight hug. 
“Okay so better than I imagined,” Ryujin moaned, all breathy, “So fucking better.” 
You blanked out, unsure of what reality you fell into. You couldn’t think of anything but her. “Baby,” You groaned as her walls pulsed, throbbing along with your cock. You blew out a breath to keep you from blowing your load. 
“You feel better,” Ryujin said slowly, seductively, thick with desire, “But can you fuck me like how I imagined?” 
The challenge tapped into a side you didn’t go to often. Hardly ever. A much darker side you only went to with one person before. It hadn’t been seen since. 
Yet it was there, on your shoulder, whispering into your ear that Ryujin wanted it. Wanted you and all the debauchery you could bring into her life. 
“Don’t tempt me, Jin-yah,” You gritted through your teeth, the voice on your shoulder getting louder as she squirmed in your hold. The movement triggered the nerves in your body, shooting along your spine at the sensation. 
“Fuck me,” Ryujin moaned, rolling her body down in a fluid motion. You snapped your hips forward, watching her breasts bounce from the force. “God, yes. Please.” 
You slowly, agonizingly, withdrew your cock, leaving just the head nestled in between her folds. You didn’t miss the way she gasped, sharply inhaling, whining at the loss. You saw the way her lower lips pulsed, gripping on the little you left inside her.
“You want me?” You had to hear her say it. You needed her permission before you listened to the devil, praising you for the sins you wanted to commit. 
Ryujin eagerly nodded, eyes low as she stared at you. “I want you.” 
You thrusted without warning, her body jolting as she bit her lip, stifling a moan. 
“I want to hear you,” You grunted with another precise thrust. 
This time, Ryujin screamed. 
“Fuck,” Your eyes rolled back, choking out, “I want to drown myself in you.” 
You moved on pure instinct after that. You focused on Ryujin, her moans, her gasps, her body reacting to yours. You might have lost your sense of reality because she felt too tight, too warm, too good, but she tethered you, guiding you to remind you that what was happening was very real. 
You didn’t know how, but you somehow ended up in your room. Ryujin placed a finger on your chest, gently pushing you on the bed. You let her, easily laying back before she straddled your hips. 
“My turn,” Ryujin kissed you sweetly on the lips before you were wrapped around her once again. 
It happened fast, embarrassingly fast as she rode you into oblivion. You couldn’t help but move with her, meeting her at the perfect time. She fell forward once you hit that spot, bringing her mouth to yours in a messy kiss. 
“God,” Ryujin breathed out, “I’m going to—”
“Me too,” You grunted with a quick snap of your hips. You felt her pussy tightening as her pace increased, nearly slamming down on your body. “I—fuck, where?” 
How you had the state of mind to ask was beyond you. You wanted to paint her walls white, making sure she was filled with you and then some. Her hands found yours, interlacing them together as she brought your arms over your head. 
“In my mouth,” Ryujin said sharply before slyly adding, “But after I cum.” 
You didn’t get the chance to formulate a response because Ryujin’s hands let go, perching them on your chest as you watched her hips move dangerously over you. You pathetically whimpered at the sight of your cock disappearing in between her legs. Your stomach tightened as you miserably tried to hold it together, and you almost exploded the moment her inner walls squeezed like vice, sucking the air out of your lungs. Her body froze before violently shaking, the rhythmic pulses had you dizzy with pleasure. 
It took everything in you to not cum inside her as you watched her orgasm shatter through her. She nearly sobbed as her nails dug into your chest, the pain heightening all your senses. 
You almost shouted when the air hit your cock, the warmth suddenly gone before it was replaced with another kind of warmth, a different kind that had you seeing stars. 
“Oh—fuck,” Your hand shot downwards, fingers tangling in Ryujin’s hair. “So fucking good, Jin-yah.” 
The praise spurred her on as her throat constricted around your length, catching you off guard that you couldn’t stop your orgasm any more. Hot thick ropes shot out of you without warning. Ryujin slightly gagged, causing you to thrust into her mouth as you pushed her head down more. 
That was the hardest you ever came, and Ryujin drained you into her mouth without any complaint, any resistance. Once it subsided, the grip on her hair slackened, arm falling off to the side, as your eyes fell shut. You vaguely heard her choke, heavily breathing, that you barely opened your eyes to see a small dribble of your essence drip down her chin. You didn’t miss the way her throat moved, swallowing your release without asking. 
Ryujin’s eyes opened slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips as your eyes met. Her jaw lowered, seeing all pink with pearly white teeth with no trace of you anywhere. 
“So?” You said after a moment, catching your breath. She placed a soft kiss on your stomach before crawling back on top of you, laying her head sweetly on your chest. “Better than your imagination?” 
“You have no idea,” Ryujin answered softly, affectionately, lips kissing your neck. 
-- -- 
You fell into some sort of routine with Ryujin. 
She waited till you were done with clients at the studio, waited till your work station was clean, waited for you while Ryuseong teased you both. 
You didn’t ask her to, but there was some part of you that was glad she did. 
Some nights ended the way the first day did while others ended falling asleep, cuddled underneath the blanket, wrapped around each other while you shared things you never spoke of. 
There was this part of you that wanted to ask her out, like on a date, in public, not restricted to the four walls of your apartment. You could hardly count takeaways with a drama queued as a ‘date.’
You weren’t even sure if whatever was going on was something serious or something just for fun. With the amount of time you spent with her, the more it felt serious. 
-- --
“You’re going to the opening right?” Yuna asked as she walked through the door, exiting the restaurant, arms interlocked with Ryujin. 
“It’s my brother’s second tattoo shop in Itaewon,” Ryujin answered, “And the tenth anniversary of his first one, of course I will.”
“It’ll be nice,” Yeji added next to you. “Oppa said there’s going to be a DJ too.” 
You had just finished dinner, paid by you, which wasn't a big deal. You tended to pay for things when you were out with Ryujin and her friends. It sort of just happened when before you and Ryujin slept together, things would be split evenly among the group. They were surprised the first time, shocked even, that you paid without them knowing. They wanted to give you their share, but you brushed them off, giving an excuse that they were still in school and their money should be saved. The girls began talking about their semester starting in a few weeks. 
You stayed back a little, opting for a quick nicotine fix before you spend the rest of your evening with Ryujin. She wanted to finish the drama you had been watching together. You didn’t want to hover, or have the smoke in their faces. 
You noticed Ryujin turned her head slightly backward, ensuring you were still behind them. You held up the vape pen she forced you to buy because she wasn’t the biggest fan of cigarettes. You never thought you’d give them up, the short-lived high wasn’t the same, but for her, you found yourself switching over. 
(The smile on her face after she kissed you one night when she didn’t taste the bitterness of tobacco was a choice you didn’t mind doing.) 
Ryujin rolled her eyes, falling back into the conversation as you took a long drag. You held the air, letting the poison sit in your body, before you blew the air out, the slight tilt of your head back as the smoke filled your vision. The rush didn’t have the same effect, but it was enough for you to relax your body. 
You listened in on their discussion, something about the classes they were taking. Ryujin told you her schedule once she found out, saying she wouldn’t be at the shop as much with final year projects and such. She seemed a bit annoyed at that, but convinced you to pick her up when she needed it. It didn’t take much, but she promised she wouldn’t inconvenience you—she was never one to begin with.
You took another drag, tuning the chatter out, when Yuna mentioned something that caught your attention. It was a simple question about some boy named Haein? from what you could hear without being nosey, that she directed to Ryujin. 
“Yuna-yah,” Ryujin lightly scolded, shaking her head, “I already told you. I’m not interested in him.”
“You went out with him twice, and from what Lia’s heard, you keep avoiding him and won’t answer any of his calls,” The information stung because you hadn’t realized this was happening. You knew Ryujin had a life outside of hanging out at her brother’s studio and spending nights with you, but you would have wanted to know. “Twice seems pretty interested.”
The vape pen was brought to your lips reflexively, breathing in deeply to tamper the sudden ache behind your ribcage. You were never a controlling person in a relationship, so you didn’t know what to do with this feeling. Something akin to jealousy, but closer to hurt.
You heard Yeji mumble Yuna not now as she glanced at you. You met her eyes, a sad pitying look that you shrugged. You needed to remember that nothing was established, nothing said you were together, but everything screamed differently. 
“Oppa,” Yuna turned around, yanking her companion to face you in the middle of the street. “What do you think? Does it seem like unnie’s interested? You know her well enough.” 
You tucked your vape pen into your pocket, glancing at Ryujin as you chose your words carefully. “I don’t think anything. She’s allowed to do what she wants,” Was what you came up with. You didn’t miss the way the woman in question tensed, and you weren’t sure if Yuna noticed. If she did, it wasn’t acknowledged. 
“Oh come on,” Yuna rolled her eyes, and by the way her gaze rolled back to you, you were going to be challenged. “How would you feel if someone you went out a couple times with, and it all went well, kept dodging your calls?” 
“I’d let it be,” You shrugged, indifferent to the hypothetical situation, “They have their own life. I’d be a little sad, but I can’t force them to want to spend time together.” You hoped that answer would suffice, tacking on a subtle dig to Ryujin. 
“See, Yuna, now drop—”
The youngest cut in before Yeji could finish her sentence, “Ugh, boring. Where’s the chase? The back and forth? The pining?” 
“I don’t have time for that,” You said bluntly, trying not to sound too harsh. You were starting to get irritated. “I’m generally upfront about how I feel and what I want when I’m with someone. If they just want to fuck, fine I’m in. If they want something more serious and I feel the same way, I tell them.”
“And what if it’s reversed?” The questions didn’t stop. All these hypotheticals that never directly translate into practice. “What if you want something more serious and they don’t feel the same way? What do you do then?” 
You got the feeling there was an underlying agenda. It was like she was searching for an answer. It hit a little too close. You didn’t want to be the first to show your hand with Ryujin right there. 
“Then it ends,” You said simply, reaching for your pocket. You desperately wanted 
“That simple?” Yuna raised an eyebrow, even crossing her arms with Ryujin still wrapped around. 
You had always been in tune with Ryujin’s emotions, and you saw her eyebrow twitch—a clear sign she was starting to get annoyed. “Unfortunately yeah,” Shrugging, “I’m not going to waste time with someone that doesn’t feel the same way if things are heading in that direction. Might as well save both of us the pain.” 
Yuna dropped the topic, rolling her eyes at the honesty. It wasn’t like you could be anything else. You couldn’t—wouldn’t—lie or lead someone on if the intentions weren’t the same. She pulled Ryujin to continue walking while Yeji shot you another sympathetic smile, mouthing sorry before following after. 
It left you alone, frozen, at these feelings you inadvertently developed. It was naive to think otherwise since you spent a lot of time with her these days, especially intimately. It hit you like a brick wall, crashing down on you as you couldn’t fathom the idea that she felt the same. 
You couldn’t dwell on it too much—not the time nor place—because Ryujin’s voice called your name, that soft, affectionate way she did when you laid underneath the covers, wrapped around each other. You looked up, seeing her eyebrows furrowed. You gave a lazy smile, though she didn’t look like she believed you. 
You weren’t even sure you believed yourself. 
-- 
“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asked quietly as she pulled away, seated on your lap with your back pressed against the headboard. 
“Nothing.” You averted your eyes to anywhere else, but it was hard with her in front of you. You felt her gaze, but avoided it. The floor seemed a lot more interesting anyways. 
“Was it because of what Yuna said?” She didn’t believe it was nothing. “Don’t take her seriously. She’s just nosey, always in my business about who I’m dating or not.” 
You hated yourself for the next words that came out, “But are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Dating anyone,” You mumbled, briefly meeting her eyes. 
“I mean no?” That answer did nothing but grow the black hole in your stomach. “Not officially at least. A few dates here and there, but nothing that I see serious.”
You appreciated her honesty. She seemed so casual about it—sleeping with you while going on dates. The situation itself was a conundrum because what did that mean for you? Were you just someone she slept with? Were you keeping her away from finding the one? Were you more than just a fuck? 
You had to know, “So who am I then?” 
Ryujin tilted her head, curiously staring at your face. You felt vulnerable, unsure of what your expression portrayed, because you were sure she figured it out. 
“What do you mean?” She said it slowly, carefully, as if whatever you say next could alter the course of your relationship. 
You couldn’t believe you had to spell it out for her. “Like, what does that mean? You go off on dates with all these guys, yet you come to me after? Am I just a fuck?” It borderlined on desperation, the words falling out. “Am I someone you want to date?” 
You watched as she swung her leg over, moving to sit next to you. You shook your head, already knowing where this conversation was going. 
“I like spending time with you.” 
“But being at the shop and then falling into bed with me, that’s how you spend time with me.” A pang shot through your chest. It ached enough for you to scratch over your shirt, self-soothing the pain to go away. “You don’t want to do anything else?” 
“Did you?” This whole answering a question with a question was about to push you off the edge. “I’m being serious. Did you? I came into this thinking you just wanted to get your dick wet since you had Rosie.” You heard the disdain at the mention of your previous lover. “I didn’t think you wanted more than that.” 
“I didn’t either,” You confessed, sighing dejectedly. “It’s crazy, and a fucking cliche of all things, to develop feelings like this. It’s okay. No hard feelings.” 
“Wait—” You didn’t want to hear anymore, so you stood up, reaching for the shirt that was thrown on the ground. Your heart dropped, aching, scratching at your rib cage as your chest tightened. You quickly slipped it on. “You like me?” 
You forced a smile, “I do, and it’s okay that you never thought of this like that. It is, it really is. I just don’t think I could keep doing it.” 
You gathered the rest of your things while Ryujin called out your name, telling you to don’t go. You were glad her apartment was vacant. With Lia visiting family in Canada, she offered her place since you spent most of the time at yours. 
You were halfway out the door when you turned around to Ryujin, still in the same position. It broke your heart to leave, but you had no other choice. 
Clean break right?
Should make things easier right? 
“You definitely don’t deserve to call yourself someone to just get my dick wet,” The vulgarity had you grimacing, “Because I never thought of you as that. Not in the slightest.” 
You left before Ryujin could respond, the steps heavier the closer you get to the front door. It went from zero to sixty, and it gnawed at you to stay. 
That simple right? 
You ate your earlier words because this was not a clean break. This did not make things easier. This was complicated in all the worst ways. 
-- -- -- 
You send a message to your cousin, thanking him for his quick response on letting you stay with him in the states for a couple months. Lisa appears with Jennie in tow and drinks in hand as the party’s in full swing. 
“Who are you texting?” Lisa asks, placing your drink on the table as they take their seats across from you. 
“My cousin,” You answer, distracted with the flurry of messages he sends. He’s excited because he’ll finally have someone to go out with, needing a wingman since his friends were—in his words—boring. 
“I still can’t believe you’re going to be gone for almost a year,” Lisa takes a sip from her glass. “How’d Ryuseong take it?” 
Your mentor took the news as better than you hoped. He was surprised, but expected it. You couldn’t help but think he knew that you had been sleeping with his sister for the past few months. He wouldn’t say anything when she was around you, but he’d raise an eyebrow whenever she got a little closer than friendly. 
You hastily decided a couple days after ‘ending’ your arrangement with Ryujin that you’d travel a bit while tattooing at places that would take you. A couple cities in the states were planned along with Tokyo and Melbourne. You were still waiting to hear back from your friend in London while close to finalizing spending a month or so in Paris. 
It would be good for you, as Ryuseong said once you told him your plans. He even helped put you in contact with some of his connections to let you work with them for a nominal fee. He reassured you that you’d always have a place to work whenever you were in the country, half-joking that you’d be managing the shops when you returned for good. 
“Good. He’s happy for me, I think,” You scratch your head. “Bummed that I won’t be around, but he gets it. He suggested doing this a while ago.” 
“But why now?” Jennie asks curiously. Her girlfriend gently elbows her, shooting her a warning look. “What? I don’t know enough about his life.” 
“It’s fine,” You wave Lisa off. “Just some things happened that made me rethink what I want.” 
Jennie glances behind you, “Like with a girl?” You’re about to turn around when her hand reaches out, shaking her head, “Just an observation because there’s been a girl looking at you since you got here.” 
“It’s complicated,” You mumble, fingers curling around the glass. 
“Well,” Jennie smirks, “It’s about to get more complicated.” 
“What do you—” The question dies on your lips before Jennie stands abruptly, squealing at whoever just appeared. 
“Chaeng!”
Oh.
Here we fucking go. 
-- 
You push the door open, breathing in the fresh air since the venue was suffocating with the amount of people that showed up. It was a bigger turnout than you expected, but Ryuseong knew a lot of people. 
You pat your pockets as you search for the cigarette package. You relapsed into the original vice since Ryujin was no longer in the picture. You excused yourself from the debate Rosie and Lisa were having over the best restaurant for tteokbokki takeaway, earning a glare from the latter because she wanted you to quit, but oh well. 
You pull the lighter out, sticking the cigarette in between your lips. There isn’t much foot traffic so you opt for a short walk to the alley around the corner. 
You inhale, catching the flame as the nicotine rush flows through your veins. You’ve been drinking, so it’s definitely a nice sensation, leaving you lightheaded as you gain your footing. 
Ryuseong gave a small speech, thanking everyone for showing up and their support over the years. He even announced your small departure, wishing you good luck that garnered a small applause from the crowd. You politely bowed, waving to those nearby, while Lisa ruffled your hair. 
It has overall been a nice night. 
You have no complaints. You have a couple days left in Seoul, and this is probably the last time you’ll see most of your friends. Lisa tentatively—forcefully—planned a dinner that you had no choice to go to. Rosie gave you a playful smile when she saw you, even kissing you briefly on the cheek. You were alone with her for a moment while the couple went to get more drinks, and she teased you for ghosting her, but ultimately understood once you explained the situation. 
“Water under the bridge, yeah?” Rosie smiled behind her martini glass, “No worries. We’re fine.” 
Though, when you told her that things ended, she rolled her eyes. “She has to have some feelings for you, and maybe she’s too naive to realize it, but I don’t know of any girl that has ever went out on dates and then fucked the same guy after them for there to be no feelings.” 
You didn’t want to comment on that, but Rosie asked if the girl was here. She was always perceptive, sensing your hesitation before answering. She dramatically rolled her eyes again at the exact moment Lisa and Jennie returned. They asked what you were talking about, and Lisa stupidly said it was Ryujin. 
“She looks like she wants to rip my head off,” Rosie chuckled, tilting her head in what you assumed was Ryujin’s general location. “If you want to have fun tonight, let me know. It could be one last hurrah before you leave.” 
You smile to yourself as you take another drag, thinking about Rosie’s proposal. You didn’t have anything to lose, so you are highly considering it. You always had fun with her, so why not? There’s nothing holding you back. 
At least, that is, until you hear a heated conversation a few meters down the alley. 
Naturally, you look up. 
You hadn’t actually crossed paths with Ryujin this whole evening. Whether it was her avoiding you or you subconsciously steering clear, you only saw her from afar. 
You would be able to recognize her a mile away and here she is with some boy in her face, towering over her. You let out a sigh, shaking your head. You don’t need to get involved because Ryujin has always been capable of taking care of herself. Though for your peace of mind, you walk closer to where they are. 
“Is everything alright?” Your voice breaks whatever tension as his head snaps in your direction, letting the cigarette rest in between your lips.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” He answers, pulling back slightly as his other hand drops. The question wasn’t directed towards him as you watch Ryujin stand up straight. She doesn’t say anything, which she doesn’t need to. “Let’s go Ryujin.” 
As Ryujin starts to walk toward you, the boy grabs her wrist, jerking her body backwards. You wait again, watching it unfold before you have to step in. Because you will, something Ryujin is very aware of. 
“Let go,” She says quietly, warningly, more for the boy’s sake. He doesn’t, stupidly, as his grip tightens, causing her to wince. “Ow, you’re hurting me.” 
Within seconds, you’re in between them, hand chopping through as you stand in front of Ryujin. 
“She said let go.” You say quietly, calm and composed. 
“Who the hell are you?” The boy spits back, stepping into your space, even bumping his shoulder against your chest. 
“Haein,” Ryujin hisses, hoping he gets the message. She knows your temper, and she knows how protective you are, especially when it involves her. “Just let go.” 
This must be the boy Yuna was going on about that night. Interesting. He didn’t seem like Ryujin’s type, but what did you know when it came to her ‘type.’ 
“Seriously, listen to her,” The cigarette falls to the ground. 
“I’m not going to take orders from some stranger,” Haein says sharply, yanking Ryujin forward. He must have no spatial awareness because you’re still in between them and the small yelp she lets out has you reaching for his arm. “What the—”
Your other hand swings clear across his face as he collapses to the ground. You might’ve heard the sound of bone cracking, but you didn’t care. “Told you,” You mutter, tapping his stomach with your foot as he flinches. 
“Oppa,” Ryujin sighs, shaking her head. “I can take care of myself.” 
You barely hear her, crouching down to his level, “For what it’s worth, every time she went out with you, she spent the night with me.” You’re still drunk, and the words come out without much thought. It’s rubbing salt in the wound, but at this rate, you don’t care.
“Oppa!” Ryujin grabs you by your jacket collar, pulling you up with enough force that you stumble, “What the fuck?” 
You shake her off, straightening your clothes out, “What? Is it not true? You’re welcome by the way,” You turn to walk away, but her hand encloses over your wrist. “Ryujin,” You deadpan when you face her. 
“You’re such a fucking ass,” Ryujin steps closer, her body pressed against yours. “Why would you even say that?” She gestures to Haein, who’s still on the ground, groaning in pain. 
“For fun,” You reply sarcastically, smirking as you shake her hand off. “Have a great night.” 
This time, Ryujin lets you go. You’re pissed off, and it’s a recipe for disaster if you stay any longer. Things are still fresh. You’re nursing a heartache and leaving in less than 48 hours, so probably in both your best interests, it’s not worth it to fight or argue or get into things. 
Ryujin did not share that same thought process because you feel two smaller hands on your back, pushing you off balance. Your reflexes are impaired, but you’re fast enough to catch yourself from falling flat on your face. 
“Ryujin, what the fuck,” You had never turned around so fast. Your relationship, or whatever the fuck it was, had never been physical, explosive, and the ironic part was that this turned you on. “What’s your problem?” You growl, eyes narrowing.
She never backed down from a challenge, hearing the countless, mindless arguments she would have with her friends over game rules and the sarcastic remarks she’d throw at Ryuseong whenever he did something. 
You get pushed again, but it doesn’t do much. You remain stable, unmoving as the two hands on your chest curl into fists, her head dropping. 
“You don’t get to fucking,” Hands hitting hard into your chest after each word, “Throw what we did together in someone else’s face.” The power of the punches weakens at the end. She almost seems defeated. 
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, “And what did we do, Jin-yah? We fucked more than enough times, but that’s all it was, right?” You’re being petty, borderline spiteful, with the venom you were spewing out. 
It’s not a surprise when Ryujin’s hand comes clear across your face because it was very much deserved, but that doesn't mean it didn’t hurt. Your cheek stung from the force, eyes snapping to her heated glare. 
“Fuck you.”
“Time and place, jagiya.” You’re definitely an asshole for using the name you’d call her when it was just you two, a name she’d shyly blush to. “I’m leaving in a couple days, so why not send me off with a bang?” 
It’s a taunt, a fib, a put your money where your mouth is kind of situation. You might be riled up, the slightest bit horny too, but you don’t think she’ll actually go through it.
If it wasn’t dark in the alley, you would’ve seen the wheels turning, the pros and cons weighing in her mind, seriously considering it. You could’ve put a stop to it right then and there, walking away from the argument, walking away from her until whenever you’d see her next. 
But you were drunk, too eager to be in her presence, too starved that you’d let her abuse you just to feel her touch, that you missed all of that completely. 
Ryujin calls your bluff, “Fine. I live nearby, and Lia’s sleeping over Yeji’s tonight.” 
What?
You watch her face form into a cheshire grin. You could only imagine the expression you have because she leans away, stepping out of the space, tilting her head. 
“Come on, yeobo.” Ryujin tosses the name she used for you, “I’ll make it worth your while,” She takes a slow step backwards, running a hand through her hair. 
You gulp, nodding like the fool that you were whenever it came to Ryujin. She could easily control you, and you knew that. Call it being a pushover, but you had a soft spot for her. A part that was an advantage to you both, especially when it came to matters of intimacy. 
You start to walk, hands reaching for her when you get closer. You wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her body in. Your face nuzzles into her hair, whispering, “Are you sure?” 
Ryujin chuckles before answering yes because she explicitly states she needs to fuck the frustration you’ve caused her in the past ten minutes. 
“Let’s go,” She stands on her tippy toes, lips brushing against your jaw. 
Your cheeks heat up at the contact, a small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. 
-- 
Ryujin’s apartment was generally off limits, coming over less than a handful of times. Lia tended to stay home so coming over wasn’t an option, especially with how loud you both would get. It was more of a respect thing. Maybe a privacy thing too, but that was between you and Ryujin. 
You couldn’t look around too much because Ryujin was on you once the door shut. She (literally) jumped on you, wrapping her legs around your waist, mouth landing perfectly on yours as she kissed you with a fervor you never experienced. It caught you off guard, knocking you off balance that you had to steady yourself against the wall. Something might have fallen off the entryway table, but neither of you paid attention to it as she shrugged your jacket off. 
Leading you to your knees digging into the hardwood with your head in between her legs. You don’t know how long it’s been, but your tongue has been moving which way and every way thoroughly between her lower lips without any release. She’s getting impatient, based on the way her hips jolt with your nose brushing against her clit. 
“Answer the question,” You murmur against her pussy, chin slick with wetness as you stare up at her. With her head thrown back, she doesn’t see you prompting you to continue with your task. 
You’re being mean, not letting her cum until she answers a curious question. Though, she’s not being forthcoming either on giving an answer so it seems fair to put her through tortuous strokes of your tongue. 
“What fucking question?” Ryujin snaps, hips rolling forward as you pull away. “Get back there.” 
“You know,” You blow gently at her clit as her body shivers, hands bunching the bedsheet, “If you slept with what’s his face.” 
“None of your fucking business,” She says weakly as you stick your tongue in between her folds. “Why do you care if I did?” She manages to get out, panting as you gently bite an outer lip. 
“Just wanted to know if he was able to make you this wet,” You answer simply, tongue trailing lower to an untouched area—at least by you specifically.
“What’re you even—oh!” Ryujin gasps once your tongue invades the puckered hole, tensing as you dip in. “I’ve never—fuck.” 
You lean back, and you’re met with a heated gaze from the woman sprawled out on her bed. You smirk, even licking your lips as she extends a leg to put you back where you belong. 
“God can you just fuck me already?” Ryujin snaps, eyes glaring as you don’t budge. 
“Answer the fucking question,” You say while unbuckling your belt. You spring out of your pants, immediately seeing the tent formed from your boxer briefs. 
“No he didn’t make me this wet,” Her hands reach for the waistband, shoving your underwear down. You let out a groan, hips moving forward, as her fingers wrap around your cock. “He made me cum though.” 
You roll your eyes, withdrawing yourself away from Ryujin. She lets out a small whine. “Go fuck him then.” 
It’s an empty threat. A bluff. You and her know that at the end of the night it’ll be you doing all the things he did and more. You want her, and well, she wants you. That hasn’t changed even if it has been a few weeks. There hasn’t been anyone since either on your end. Sure you could say you were jealous, but she’s with you right now. 
Not him. 
There’s a sick part of you that wants to make her work for it, but you’re impatient, eager, to remind her of the time spent together. This could very much be the last time, which tugs at your heart, but you might as well make it worth it. 
You’re about to lose your mind anyways. 
Though, Ryujin seems like she’s just about there since you’d be teasing her for a while, edging her to the breaking point that she automatically turns over on her stomach, raising her hips that has your mouth watering. 
“Baby,” She shakes her hips side-to-side, arching her back as she presents herself more, “You know he could never fuck me the way you do.” 
Without thinking, you swat your hand down, an easy flick of the wrist, palm connecting to skin that resulted in a resonating sound through the room. Ryujin moans, hips rolling backward as you withdraw your arm. 
“How do I know that?” You ask absentmindedly, watching as she attempts to grind herself on you. You rest your hand on her lower back, halting any movement. Bending forward as your other hand pushes your pants to drop around your ankles, you get close enough that her head drops back. “Prove it,” You murmur, gently nipping at her ear. 
Ryujin’s hand snakes between your bodies, and when her fingers wrap around you once again, you don’t fight it. She guides your length to her entrance. Your body shivers once the tip makes contact, magnifying how wet she is. 
“You’re dripping,” You grunt, mesmerized by the way she slides your cock in between her folds. 
“For you,” Ryujin moans when she slides backwards to take you in, “Only for you.” 
You’re moaning with her, watching, feeling the initial tightness engulf part of your cock. It’s a sensory overload that your hips slightly thrust to get deeper. It’s a lot to take in after not being with her like this. 
And fuck you missed her. 
You tell her so, head falling backwards as she continues to take you in. She sucks in a breath at the confession. Your hands find her hips, gripping tightly as you pull her along your cock. She’s practically keening at the stretch while you’re holding everything in to not thrust all the way in. 
“Ryujin, slow down,” You say through gritted teeth, air leaving your lungs as she takes you without giving you a moment to breathe. “Baby.”
“Please,” Ryujin begs, shaking her hips as you feel yourself sink deeper into her. “Fuck me, I missed you.” 
It’s all too overwhelming. The reciprocated confession. The warmth of her pussy wrapped around you has you seeing stars. Adding on how tight and wet she is, you’re about to bust. 
“Tell me again,” You slowly withdraw your hips, peeking at how soaked you are, her slick dripping down your thighs. 
“I missed you.” 
And you thrust back in, earning a filthy moan escaping her lips. Whatever sense of control you had snapped, the want—the sudden need—to make up for lost time. 
You choose long and deep strokes, ensuring you’re hitting every single nerve inside her body. You keep a steady tempo, letting the moans and pants that fall from her guide you. You can’t help but sound off with her, groaning and grunting as she moves with you. 
It’s an easy rhythm to fall back into, especially with how familiar you are with her body. You know every spot, inside and out, that could have her lose her mind. 
“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” Ryujin lulls her head back, resting against your shoulder. 
The change in position has your lips against her ear, teeth biting and nearly snarling as you keep the consistent pace. The sound of your skin clapping echoes throughout her room that you pray there’s some kind of proofing. At least to muffle her voice because your ears are ringing. 
You can’t help the words that come out of your mouth, so swept up in the moment, so swept up in her, that you tell her how much you’ve missed feeling her pussy around you, how she’s taking you so well, how she’s going to make you release if she kept squeezing your cock like a vice. 
“Do it.”
That wasn’t the response you expected. 
Not by a long shot. 
Every time you and Ryujin had sex, you’d ask where she wanted it. Half the time, it would be in her mouth. The other half would be over her body because she thought it was hot, and well, you agreed. You entertained the idea of marking her as yours, but there was one way you hadn’t. 
You’ve come inside women before. It was usually your long-term girlfriends, and that one-off who swore they were safe. No child has appeared at your door yet, so there’s that. With Ryujin, you never asked—it wasn’t your place to. You wouldn’t assume so because you weren’t dating. There was that possessive side of you that wanted to, but you were being selfish. 
So this was new. 
“Wh-what?” You stutter, hips ceasing all movement. Ryujin doesn’t like that, whining, squirming with your cock inside her. She gasps as you hit spots you hadn’t before. There’s a delicious friction of her walls hugging, pulsing, around you. “Jin-yah, whoa, slow down. I’m going to cum if you keep moving like that.” 
“Isn’t that the point?” Ryujin moans loudly at one particular spot. Her body moves on its own accord for your cock to keep brushing against it. 
“No.” You’re trying to say something, but Ryujin feels so good that you resume your movement, meeting her in perfect sync. Her hips snap downward, adding a motion you aren’t expecting, and it has you seeing stars when her clit brushes against you. The coil tightens in your lower abdomen, a tell-tale sign that you’re really close. “Jagiya,” You hardly recognize your own voice. “I don’t know if–fuck,” She does a nasty move that sucks the breath from your lungs, “Where do you want it?” 
You wanted to hear it again. You needed to hear it again, to make sure you weren’t imagining it. 
“Inside,” Ryujin commands through a moan, as you continue to pound into her. Her breathing staccatos with each thrust as she repeated the word over and over, begging you because she wants the feeling of you painting her walls. After one particularly hard thrust, her body violently shakes, convulsing as her orgasm washes over, pussy pulsating and tightening over your cock like never before, that a sentence slips from her mouth, “Be the first to cum inside me.” 
Ryujin hits the nail on the coffin as you lose control over your body, hips jackhammering into her as the coil in your stomach snaps, back seizing erratically as hot, thick white ropes flood her without warning. 
“Oh, oh that feels–fuck.” Ryujin’s too cockdrunk to finish a sentence, and you’re too pussydrunk to even hear her. You don’t know what’s going on down there, but you swear her pussy’s milking you for all you have, walls massaging your cock that you fall forward, taking her with you. You snap your hips one, two, three, four times, before another orgasm releases into her. 
“Mine,” You snarl into her ear, lightly humping into her to make sure every part of her is filled. You repeat the word like a mantra and she nods, mumbling a blissed out yours. 
The climax eventually subsides, but your positions haven’t changed. You gently grind, garnering soft, weak moans from the woman beneath you. You don’t want to pull out, but the overstimulation is creeping in. Reluctantly, you do so, slowly withdrawing your cock to not hurt her. You grin at the small whine she lets out, but you soothe her with a kiss behind the ear. 
You push yourself up to inspect the mess you made, and your cock twitches at the white liquid dripping from her folds. You stare for a second too long because an airy chuckle sounds off before Ryujin’s small fingers slide underneath, slipping in between the lower lips, pushing what’s fallen out back in. 
“Baby.” It comes out as a warning, a borderline plea, that she stops, giggling that dispels the wave of lust from taking over. You roll your eyes, rolling off her body and laying next to her. 
Ryujin turns to face you, slotting a leg in between yours, as she scoots closer. You take her hands in yours, bringing them to your chest. She speaks first, “That was…an experience.” 
“A good one?” You ask softly, eyes meeting hers. 
“Definitely.” Ryujin sighs dreamily, eyes closing before she drops her head slightly. 
“Am I really the only person to ever do that?” You watch her eyes open again, an indiscernible look that drops before you realize the answer. 
Ryujin nods shyly, biting her lip, “We’re safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You shake your head, slightly offended that’s what she first assumed. She must’ve seen your expression change. “Did you not want to?” 
You shake your head again. “No, I did,” Sighing, “It’s just we’ve never done that. And you’ve never done that. I don’t want to take something like that from you. It’s…intimate.” That’s the only word that comes to mind. 
“Who said I didn’t want that with you?” 
“Well, we aren’t a couple,” You mumble before glancing away. Pushing on with a little more confidence, “You made it clear we weren’t.” It sounded pathetic. 
“Did you want to be?” Her questions are starting to kill your mood. You let go of her hands, sitting up abruptly. “Stop,” Her hand encloses around your wrist, tugging you back before you could leave (again.) “I’m being serious. I was serious.” 
“Ryujin,” You deadpan, head falling on the pillow as you stare at the ceiling. “Yes, I did. I still do,” You cover your face in embarrassment.
“Can you look at me?” Ryujin tries to remove your arms so she could see your face. She’s successful in that aspect, but you turn away. “You’re acting like a child.” 
“So,” You pout, avoiding her gaze. 
“You’re a dumb dumb,” Ryujin says fondly, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. “I wasn’t sure if you meant it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.” 
You ask for clarification because ‘hopes up’ for what exactly. Ryujin looks away this time, taking a breath before telling you she’s always had a crush on you. She explains it likely developed within the first year of meeting you. Ryuseong had noticed, teasing her at home because that’s what older brothers do. She vehemently denied any feelings, but when you brought Nayeon around, she realized it wasn’t a crush. 
“You’re older than me, and at that point, I didn’t know how to get you to see me more than Ryuseong’s little sister.” You hear the bitterness in her voice. 
“You’ve always been Ryujin to me,” You reassure sweetly, sliding your arm under to pull her into you. You peck the side of her head. “You know I’ve always looked out for you.”
“But I wanted you to look at me. The way you looked at Nayeon-unnie,” Ryujin buries her face into the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin. 
“I’ve been for the past few months,” You whisper, tilting her head gently with two fingers on her chin. Bringing your lips down to hers, mumbling I mean it. 
“You’re leaving.” She pulls away, flicking your nose. 
“For almost a year.”
“Admit it’s because of me.”
“It’s because of you.” You comply because she’s most of the reason why in the first place. 
“I’m claiming you as mine.”
“We haven’t even been on a date yet.” 
“Then when you get back, you take me out on a date.”
“Isn’t that a little backwards to go on a date after having sex?” 
“You came inside me.” 
“I’ve never been conventional,” You sweep her body underneath yours, her legs easily spreading. 
“I feel it leaking,” Ryujin murmurs as she tilts her head back. 
“That’s hot,” Your voice shakes at the memory of cumming inside of her a few minutes ago, body reacting tenfold that you’re ready to go again. “Can I do it again?” 
“Because I’m yours?” Her tongue slips in between your lips, swallowing the moan. 
“Mine.” 
-- -- 
After eleven months, you’re finally back in Seoul. 
A lot happened that you were grateful for the experience. You met a lot of people while most importantly, perfecting your craft. You weren’t expecting to make a lot, but you made more than enough to book an earlier flight. 
You planned to return at the end of February, but you wanted to surprise Ryujin for her graduation. She was disappointed you wouldn’t be there, but was excited for your arrival. Little did she know, you’d be meeting her right after the ceremony. Thanks to the help from Yeji and Lia. 
You and Ryujin agreed you liked each other, wanting to be a couple, but kept things open since you would be thousands of miles away. You couldn’t expect her to put her life on hold for you, nor did she want you to do that either. She gave you clear instructions to do whatever you wanted with whoever you wanted as long as you told her about it. 
Well, nothing happened with anyone. Sure, you went out with people and there was some interest from women—even men, but you felt too strongly for Ryujin to give them any attention. You were loyal to a fault, and no one could change your mind. There were some that definitely tried. 
You had just enough time to drop off your luggage at your parents’ house, greeting them quickly before your mother could yell at you for looking too thin. Ryuseong texted you where they’d be and that they’d save you a seat. 
You’re slightly late. 
You didn’t want to show up with a motorcycle helmet, so you opted for public transportation. You didn’t account for the train delay, which gave you little time to mingle once you met with Ryuseong and the parents. 
“Hi,” You politely bow, feet shuffling over the other attendees as you plop yourself on the empty seat next to Ryuseong. “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t want to take my bike.” 
Ryuseong chuckles, shaking his head as he dismisses your apology. He mentions that he’s glad you’re back before the lights dim. You couldn’t exactly get into things, but you would later on. 
The ceremony goes off without a hitch. It was quicker than you expected. Ryuseong pointed in the general direction of where Ryujin was, but you were far from her to really see her. She might’ve turned in your area a few times throughout, but you couldn’t be sure she saw you.
You hoped she didn’t. You still wanted to surprise her. 
Before you know it, it’s finished and you’re following Ryuseong out of the row to meet Ryujin. He jerks his elbow in your side as you walk, head tilting to the group of girls by you. You glance at them, which they quickly look away, one even giggles at the other. 
“Dude stop,” You mutter, rolling your eyes. “I’m not interested.”
“Just making you aware,” Ryuseong comments, “Ryujin’s not going to like the attention you’re getting.” You do a once over of your outfit choice, and there’s nothing that really calls for the attention of others. A black blazer, black shirt, and black slacks—it wasn’t anything outrageous. “You’re a chump.” He jokes, then starts to laugh when he sees you pout. 
You’re about to say something sarcastic when you’re nearly tackled by someone from the side. There’s a familiar airy giggle that has you roll your eyes again. 
“Oppa!” Yuna’s voice rings through your ears as you keep your balance. “Unnie didn’t say you were going to be here.” 
“Yuna,” You say flatly, untangling her limbs off your body. She huffs, crossing her arms as two other familiar faces appear. “Hi Yeji, Lia,” You bow, earning a smile. 
You fall into an easy conversation, telling them a bit about your time away with the promise of more details later over dinner. There was a lot to catch up on, and you didn’t want to take the limelight away from Ryujin. 
You don’t know how much time goes by, but there’s a tap on your shoulder that has you turning around. 
Your heart nearly stops. 
Ryujin still is as beautiful as you remember, if not more. 
You exchanged hundreds of messages with photos, and some videos that were for your eyes only. So seeing her for the first time in almost a year has you swooning. 
“Why are you dressed like that?” Ryujin questions, gaze going up and down before meeting yours.
“Uh? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” The self-consciousness was creeping in. 
“Well,” She crosses her arms over her chest, “For one, you look like an actor, or an idol.” 
(Her friends nod in agreement in your periphery.) 
“I can’t stop that? This is how I look.” 
“And two, all the girls within a ten meter radius are staring at you,” She raises an eyebrow, “Are you trying to make me jealous?” 
You can’t help the corner of your lips from curling up. Not even a hello, but you didn’t mind it. She was jealous, and you felt like feeding the fire. You’ll beg for forgiveness later. 
“Is it working?” You grin as she scoffs. “Congratulations by the way.”
And just like that, the facade breaks.
Ryujin wraps her arms around you, instinctively pulling you into her. You almost hesitate because her parents are right behind her, but you don’t care. 
You missed her. 
“You’re going to regret that,” Ryujin mumbles against your chest. 
You kiss her sweetly on the top of her head, smiling, “Worth it.”
“I want to do something once we’re done with my family,” Ryujin says suddenly, head tilting up with a mirthful gleam in her eyes. 
“What?” You wanted to kiss her, but you had to draw the line somewhere with physical displays of affection with the current audience. 
“Can you give me a tattoo?” 
“Uh?” You raise an eyebrow. She hadn’t mentioned a tattoo in months, and you completely forgot she wanted one. 
“Somewhere hidden, like where only a certain someone could see.” 
“Oh? Like where?” You grin, eyes trailing down her body. 
“Maybe my hip?” Ryujin offers and the idea of her body permanently marked by you sends your mind in a tailspin. She stands on her tiptoes, lips grazing your ear, before whispering, “As a reminder.” 
“For…?” You trail off, gulping as a slim finger traces down your chest. 
“When you fuck me,” Tactfully adding, “I’m still yours.” 
Oh.
-- -- -- 
1K notes · View notes
girlgenius1111 · 5 months ago
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throw it all away part 2
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part 2 of 2 :) [putellas!reader] just because she knows, now, doesn't mean the path to recovery is straightforward. alexia struggles to help you the way you need. you struggle to even want help. tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.
The protein shake glass sat empty in front of you when Alexia walked into the kitchen. Olga was in the chair next to you, rubbing your back slowly. There were tears running down your face, but your expression was stony. 
Alexia took the seat next to you without a second thought, pulling you into her side. “I’m proud of you.”
“I hate myself.” You murmured, almost against your will. “This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s ridiculous.” 
“It’s not ridiculous,” Alexia objected. “It’s okay. This happens, it’s normal, pequeña.” 
You looked at her strangely, pulling away from her embrace and your sister winced at her own words, scrambling to fix her mistake. “I just mean this is how you’re supposed to feel. In recovery, this is normal. It’s going to be hard, but you just have to push through and-”
“Ale,” Olga interrupted, shaking her head gently. 
Alexia looked back at you, falling silent as she did so. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, or maybe anger, and you were staring at the plate in front of you like it had personally harmed you. The blonde couldn’t take the look on your face, wanted more than anything to just say the right thing and have all the answers for you, and she started blabbering again before she could stop herself. 
“You did a really good job finishing your protein shake-”
At this, you rolled your eyes, and Alexia started talking faster. 
“-maybe we can get your favorite takeout for dinner? The pasta place you like, with the– ow, Olga.” 
Again, Alexia fell silent, rubbing her arm where her girlfriend had elbowed her. Olga was shooting her a look and your sister sighed, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. Obviously discussing food was a no go, she should know better than that. She thought hard, trying to think of anything that would make you feel better, get rid of the horribly sad frown on your face. 
“Maybe you can come to training tomorrow and watch! So you don’t miss out on too much, and-”
“Alexia, for the love of god, shut up.” You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air and rising from your chair. 
“Pequeña, I’m just trying to-” 
“You don’t want me to miss out on too much training, I got it. Football is the most important thing. I know that, Alexia. I know. I know I’m fucking my season right now, I know I’m fucking the team, so please just, for once, stop talking about fucking football.” 
Alexia couldn’t help the hurt that panged in her chest, or the pained look she was sure flashed across her face. You felt guilt split your chest open at the sight, but you pushed that away, trying to hold onto your anger, which was quickly fading. 
“I’m going to the bathroom.” You turned to walk out of the room, but Olga’s voice behind you made you freeze in your tracks. 
“Nena? Can you leave the door open a crack please?” 
You felt everything inside of you seize up at her words, shame and frustration and embarrassment and hurt welling up, until a few tears fell down your cheeks. God, you hated that they knew. They didn’t even know but they knew, and that was awful. Incomparably, singularly awful. 
“Why does she have to– oh.” Alexia said. She hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. She thought you just weren’t eating. This seemed… worse, somehow. When you turned around to look at her, you could tell she thought it was worse. 
“Yeah.” You agreed, turning back around and practically stomping out of the room. 
As soon as you were gone, Alexia turned to her girlfriend. “How did you know she was… doing that?” 
Olga exhaled heavily, leaning back in her chair. The two of you were going to give her a migraine, but she didn’t really blame you. Alexia on the other hand…
“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but I asked her to leave the door open just in case. Her reaction, though… she is.” 
“Oh.” Alexia mumbled, unconsciously reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. Olga pulled away with a shake of her head, sitting up straighter in her chair. 
“Ale, you have to relax. Talking her ear off isn’t helping right now, she’s already overwhelmed.” 
“I’m just trying to help!”
“I know you are, amor, but you have to think about how she’s feeling right now,” 
“But I don’t know how she’s feeling! I want to, but I don’t understand! I can’t understand. Keeping your body healthy is the most important thing in football, and I don’t understand why she’s done this, because I would never do this. How am I supposed to help if I don’t understand? I can’t, Olga. I can’t fix this.” 
Both women were speaking too loudly to hear your footsteps returning to the kitchen, though you paused just outside the doorway, catching the end of your sister’s sentence. 
I can't fix this. she'd said. 
I can’t understand. 
I would never do this. 
How am I supposed to help?
It sounded like she’d already given up on you. She’d decided she couldn’t understand, couldn’t help, and it was all your fault. For pushing away her attempts to help earlier, snapping at her when you knew she was just trying to make you feel better. You felt like a lost cause, but now she felt that way about you too. 
You took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen before Olga could reply. You looked oddly pale and shaky, and though it was because you’d overheard your sister and misunderstood, Ale didn’t know that. She glanced over at you, doing a double take as her eyes widened. 
“Nena, did you…?” 
Next to the blonde, Olga suppressed a sigh. You blinked at her for a second, confused, before recoiling backwards, a scowl etched onto your face. “No. I left the door open like you told me to, and I didn’t do anything.” 
Alexia relaxed, just barely, clearly about to say something else that would be entirely wrong when Olga spoke first. 
“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little bit, pequeña? It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted and overwhelmed.” 
Your sister nodded her agreement, and you felt your heart sink even further if possible. Of course they didn’t want to deal with you anymore today. You didn’t say you’d rather be with them, because the loneliness would be almost too much to bear. You just nodded, eyes fixed on the hardwood floor under you as you turned and left the room once more.
Alexia felt slightly more prepared to talk to you when she knocked on your door a half hour later. She’d done some quick research, compiling another list in her head of what to say and what not to say. She’d tried to convince Olga to go up and check on you instead of her, because all the midfielder seemed to be able to do today was mess up, but Olga had insisted that it be Alexia. You needed your sister, and Alexia needed to make up for the absolute disaster she’d been earlier. 
All she got in response to her knock was a sharp huff. 
“Chiqui? Can I come in?” 
“I guess.” You called back. Alexia opened your door, slipping inside and finding you sprawled on your bed, staring hard at the ceiling. 
She hovered in the doorway uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”
“How do you think I’m feeling?” You snapped, glaring at her harshly. 
“Hey,” Alexia tried, though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to scold you for catching an attitude with her. She didn’t know what any of the rules were anymore. 
You shook your head with an annoyed huff. “What do you want, Ale? I thought I didn’t need to talk any more today.”  
And Olga had promised you that. Alexia was just hoping, perhaps naively, that you’d want to talk to her more. Instead, it seemed like you were barely holding yourself back from forcibly shoving your sister out of your room.
Any other time, any other situation, Alexia would have shouted at you to be respectful. Both of you knew that. It only made you feel worse that she felt that she had to tiptoe around you. She was treating you differently already and you hated that. 
Alexia studied you for a few moments, before walking over to your bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. She put her hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, and Alexia bit her lip.  You noticed she was wearing this absurd shirt you’d gotten her as a joke a few years ago, one that proclaimed her as the world’s best sister. Really, you’d given it to Ale to spite Alba after arguing with her, though you’d also gotten Alba one a few days later, just to make sure her feelings weren’t hurt. Alexia wearing it now could have been completely accidental, or it could have been some kind of weird confidence boost she was trying to give herself. Either way, you felt emotion try to claw out of the pit you’d shoved it into, but you pushed it down again. 
“I just want to help you.” The blonde said finally, her hands fiddling with a stray thread on your comforter. 
You scoffed, sitting up off your bed and turning to face your sister. “You don’t mean that.” 
Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, an absolutely crestfallen look on her face. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?” 
“You don’t. You said so earlier, you don’t understand, you can’t understand, you’d never do this. How are you supposed to help? You can’t, so don’t pretend that you want to.” You were fully crying now, pacing around your room but absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Alexia. 
The midfielder’s heart sank as you threw her words back at her. She hadn’t known you’d overheard her, hadn’t realized how that had sounded. She’d been begging Olga to give her some guidance, not expressing that she’d given up on you, that she didn't really want to help you. 
“Oh, mi pequeña,” Alexia whispered, standing and pulling you into a hug. You didn’t hug her back, even as her arms wrapped tight around you, and she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s not what I meant, not at all. I’ve never been through this, nena, and it’s hard for me to understand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. I do, more than anything.” 
“You shouldn’t bother. It’s hopeless, I can’t do this.” You sobbed, finally hugging Alexia back, clinging on tightly to her shirt. 
“It’s not hopeless. It might feel like it is, but I am never going to give up on you, on trying to understand, on trying to help. Never, nena.” 
You pulled away for her, guilt once again replacing anger. Taking a few shuddering breaths, you tried to get your thoughts in order, or, you supposed, your feelings in order. You looked at your sister again, her arms at her sides as she looked at you helplessly. 
“You’re being too patient with me.” You whispered, sitting down heavily on the edge of your bed. 
Alexia took a seat next to you, feeling like maybe… maybe she did know what to say. “No. I don’t think I’m being patient enough.”
You shook your head, though still allowed your sister to grab your hand in hers. Whether it was for your comfort or for hers, you weren’t sure. Maybe both. “I’m not…I’m not sick. This problem, it’s all mental. I don’t deserve for everyone to be this kind and this patient. I chose this.”
There was a certain guilt that accompanied all of this. A real sickness, in your mind, wasn’t something that a person inflicted onto themselves. This was your fault. You had started it, you had continued it, and you’d let it get so bad that other people had to intervene. You didn’t deserve your sister’s patience. 
Alexia gripped your hand tighter. “You are sick. Your brain is sick. And while you get better, you deserve all the kindness and patience. You made choices that got you here, but you are sick, hermanita. Just a different type than you’re used to.” 
You looked at her tearfully, an almost pleading expression on your face. “I don’t know how to get better, Ale. I don’t know if I can.” 
Alexia understood, then, that you weren’t pushing her away because you didn’t want her help, necessarily. You just didn’t want to waste her time when the task ahead of you felt so entirely impossible. 
“I don’t know either. I don’t really know how to help you, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to do it. Whatever it takes, nena. You are my baby sister, and you are worth the effort. I’m not going to give up on you. Not ever.” 
For a moment, you looked at Alexia like you used to look at her. When you were tiny and she was your perfect, safe older sister. Your Ale, who let you sleep in her bed after bad dreams, who double knotted your shoelaces in the morning, and carried your backpack to class. Who taught you how to kick a football, and that you could be anything you wanted. You looked at Alexia like she’d hung the stars and the moon, like she could do anything. 
That look used to make her feel like she could do anything, your belief in her something she could always count on. Now, the determination in Alexia’s eyes made you feel like you could do anything, just for a moment. You needed more than a moment, though.
If it wasn’t bad enough that you couldn’t play, couldn’t train, couldn’t even spend time in the gym without close supervision, you were seeing the specialist psychologist that the club had brought in every single day. The first few sessions didn’t heed much. It seemed she was trying to create a rapport with you, getting to know you before she tried to get you to bare your soul to her. 
It was after your fourth session with your therapist, Lucia, that she began to press you to talk about the issue at hand. And it was after your fourth session that you found yourself speed walking out of Lucia’s office, not watching where you were going, tears streaming down your cheeks. 
You were desperately hoping not to run into any of your teammates, as the facts of what was going on had been kept strictly between the captains and the coaching staff. Your teammates, however, would have had to be blind to not realize something was going on. All they’d been told was that you were out of training and matches for the time being. 
Maybe some of them would have asked more questions if not for the terrifying shadow that your sister had become. She walked you to Lucia’s office every day, tried her best to be waiting outside when you were done. Any time you spent with the team, normally just coming out to the pitch to say hello, Alexia hovered behind you, shooting anyone a death glare if they so much as looked like they were going to ask you something deeper than “how are you?” 
You half wondered if your Mami had put her up to this, because the last time you’d seen Alexia this protective was when you were 6, and you’d been getting teased at school. A few words from Eli to Alexia had your sister walking you to your classroom one morning, and making verbal threats to half the boys in the room. Alexia had been scary then, even as a teenager, and her actions had been more than effective. 
This behavior might just be all Alexia, although you knew she’d told Eli and Alba what’s been going on. You didn’t want them to know, and Alexia had hesitantly agreed not to tell them. Later, though, Olga had pulled you aside and said that it would probably be helpful to both you and Alexia to have other opinions involved, and for Alexia not to carry the stress of this all on her own. She had a point, there, and you’d given Ale the go ahead to inform your Mami and Alba. She’d done so, but aside from phone calls from each of them, they’d been respecting your space. 
Everyone, really, had been respecting your space. Aside from a new meal plan from the team’s nutritionists that you’d been trying your best to follow, no one had been forcing you to talk. 
Until today. 
Lucia had pushed you for the first time, and you’d tried your best to be open with her. It went against every instinct you had, though, and you could barely stick to a narrative with Lucia. For half the conversation, you’d admitted that there was a problem. For the other half, you’d denied it, until you were sure you’d contradicted yourself several times. 
She’d let you go 10 minutes early, probably because you were in tears and had gone pretty much silent on her; she must have decided she’d pushed you enough for the day. It was in this state, tears falling freely down your face, that you exited her office. You turned the corner towards the changing room, intending to grab your bag from your locker and see if Olga would come pick you up early, instead plowing directly into Mapi. 
“Woah! Where’s the fire?” She joked, grabbing your arms to steady you. Her smile fell, though, when she saw that you were crying. “Pequeña? You okay?” 
It was clear for anyone to see that you weren’t okay, but Mapi wasn’t quite sure how willing you’d be to talk to her, so she decided to give you an out in case you wanted to go find your sister instead. Mapi wasn’t expecting the broken sob that you let out, or the way that you shook your head, so easily admitting that something was wrong after so long of pretending the opposite to be true. 
“Do you want me to go get Ale?” The defender asked softly. 
Again, you shook your head. How could you explain that you were crying because of your sister to your sister. “N-no. She’s busy.” 
“She wouldn’t mind, nena, you know that.” 
That was entirely the problem. She was being too patient, too perfect, it was almost overwhelming. There was too much pressure on you to be perfect, too. A perfect recovery didn’t exist, but you felt like it had to. For Ale, for Lucia, for the club and the team. It felt like you were hurtling towards some unknown end, the pressure building everyday. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. 
“She’s dealing with enough of this. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself, but the wobbling of your voice gave you away. 
“Venga,” Mapi sighed, opening her arms for a hug. She half expected you to reject her, but was pleasantly surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped yourself tight around her. You were trembling, and she tightened her grip on you, wondering if she should ignore what you’d said and go get Alexia anyway. She didn’t want to betray your trust, though, and it seemed very obvious that you didn’t want to see your sister at the moment, so Mapi settled for some empty words she hoped were somewhat comforting.
“It’s all gonna be okay, pequeña. Whatever it is, you’re going to be okay.” 
“How do you know?” You mumbled, sniffling into the shoulder of her training top, half embarrassed and half too tired to even care.
Mapi rubbed your back slowly, thinking on her answer. She just… knew.
 “You don’t give up. You’re a determined person, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever is going on isn’t any different. You’re strong enough for anything, nena.”
Pulling away, you wiped at your face, managing a weak smile for the defender. “Thanks María.” 
She smiled sadly back at you, as if she knew what she’d said hadn’t really helped. “Anything you need, I’m here, sí? We all are.” 
You nodded, thanking her again before you continued on your way to the locker room, hopefully where you’d be able to grab your stuff and get out of her before seeing anyone else. Especially Alexia. You got lost in your thoughts again rather quickly, barely able to focus when Olga answered her phone and told you to wait for her outside. You were too wrapped up in what Mapi had said. 
‘You’re a determined person.’ 
‘You’re strong enough.’
You didn’t feel strong. You didn’t even feel very determined. You felt weak, like it was only a matter of time before you cracked and let everyone down. And everyone would see just how weak you really were.
The house was too quiet when Alexia and Olga arrived home from dinner. No music playing, no mindless reality show on the TV. And you were nowhere to be seen. Alexia slid her shoes off, offering a hand out to steady Olga as the other woman removed her heels. 
“Something’s wrong.” Alexia murmured, looking up the stairs as if she could see through the walls into your room. She didn’t know what was wrong or what had happened, but she just knew something wasn’t okay. “I shouldn’t have left her.”
Olga shook her head, though, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. “You can’t always be with her, Ale. This is something she has to do herself sometimes.” 
The blonde frowned. “But what if…” 
“If she did, you tell her it’s okay. You tell her that relapsing is a part of getting better, and that you’re not upset with her.” Alexia nodded slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Olga grabbed her hand, squeezing once. “If she did, she probably just wants a hug, amor. She doesn’t want to hear that you feel guilt for leaving her to her own devices. She’s already going to feel like she broke your trust, and that would only make it worse.” 
For a second, Alexia just stared in wonder at her girlfriend. Because, of course, it all made sense when Olga explained it, but Alexia would never have considered things from that perspective. Before Olga even knew what was happening, Alexia was wrapping her in a tight hug, tucking the shorter woman’s head under her chin.
“Thank you. I would have messed this up so many times without you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and you’re so willing to help.” 
Olga hugged her back with a matching ferocity, feeling a small smile grow on her face. Once, she’d expressed to Alexia that she felt the other woman wasn’t expressive enough. It was hard to know what the very tough captain was thinking, even harder to know what she was feeling. Since then, Alexia had made a concerted effort to speak her feelings aloud. It wouldn’t ever not make Olga smile to hear Alexia expressing her appreciation for her. “You don’t have to thank me.” 
“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. I don’t want you to ever doubt how perfect you are.” Alexia replied sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Olga’s cheek. 
It wasn’t the perfect date night that either of them had imagined, but it was still them, and that was enough. 
You really hadn’t meant to ruin Ale and Olga’s evening. When they’d left, you thought it would be nice to have some time to yourself. And it would have been, if you hadn’t tried to push yourself to eat dessert on top of an entire dinner. You’d managed a few bites before you began to spiral, and it had all gone downhill from there. 
Even still, you were hoping your sister and her girlfriend would slip into the house, say a brief goodnight, and not bother themselves with you. You certainly weren’t going to tell them what happened. Not today. It was your every intention to deal with your shame and embarrassment yourself in your room, which likely entailed crying into your pillow until you fell asleep. 
Alexia ruined your plans, though, with her magical ability to sense when something wasn’t right. It allowed her to sniff out one of Pina’s pranks before it happened, allowed her to turn around and squirt Mapi with water just as the defender was about to do the same to her. It was a gut feeling, and it was even stronger when it involved you. 
It wasn’t really magical. It was a lot of little things she picked up on. The little smirk Pina got before she pulled a prank. Mapi’s quiet giggling as she tried to sneak up on Ale. Now, it was the lack of noise in the house. The abandoned bowl of ice cream on the kitchen table, the light and fan left on in the downstairs bathroom. Your sister had known you all her life, and she knew what she’d find when she opened your bedroom door. Just like when you were little, and you’d sit at the foot of your bed when you’d gotten in trouble. Tears streaming down your little face, you’d turn away from Ale when she’d come after you, but she just had to wrap her arms around you, and you’d break. 
You’d never been able to deny yourself the comfort of an Alexia hug. 
Ale knocked softly before entering, finding you with your chin resting on your knees, wiping roughly at the tears falling down your face. 
“Hey, chiqui.” She said softly. 
“Hi.” You said, clearing your throat when your voice cracked. “How was your night?” 
Alexia ruffled your hair, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do, and took a seat next to you. “It was nice, dinner was good. We had fun.” 
“That’s good.” 
Alexia wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “You can tell me if something happened.” 
“Nothing happened.” You said firmly, though you leaned further into your sister, like she could protect you from something you’d done yourself. Something you’d done to yourself.  
“Pequeña,” 
“Nothing happened, Ale. Nothing.” 
How could you tell her? How could you tell her that you’d failed, that you’d messed up, that you’d deviated from the plan? She was going to be upset, you knew it. She expected perfection. She always had. This would be no different. Alexia wanted you to have a perfect recovery. 
As you continued to pretend nothing was wrong, Alexia felt a flash of frustration run through her. You still weren’t very willing to talk to her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she not not being patient enough or kind enough? What more could she do for you? What would it take for her to be enough? 
She looked at you again, though, at the way your lower lip was wobbling, and the tears in your eyes that you refused to let fall. You were barely hanging on to your strength, and Alexia wasn’t sure why you were so resistant to being vulnerable with her, but she knew she couldn’t stop trying. 
“Let me in. Please, you’re hurting, I can tell. Just talk to me.” She tried. When you stayed silent, she reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to help, nena. Let me help.”
You couldn’t take the pleading tone of your sister’s voice anymore, and the words streamed out of you before you could stop them. 
“I’m sorry. I– It was all just too much, I didn’t have a choice, I had to,” You choked out, eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you, even as your voice cracked and you started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ale.” 
“Nena, why are you sorry?” Alexia asked, pulling you into her. You sobbed, unrestrained, into her sweater for a few moments, leaning back to take a few gasping breaths as you tried to answer her. 
“I– I messed up,” you cried. “I broke your trust and–”
“No, cariño, don’t think of it like that.” Alexia interrupted, wiping a few tears off your cheek, though more replaced them quickly. 
“But it is like that! The minute you left I made myself–” You cut yourself off with a sharp shake of your head. 
“Tell me. Tell me what happened, and we can talk through it, yeah?” 
“You don’t want to hear.” 
“Yes I do. That’s why I asked. Walk me through what happened and we can make a plan for next time.” 
It was always about plans with your sister, but you weren’t in much of a state to argue with her.
“I– I ate dinner. And it was okay. It was better. I think it got too confident or I wasn’t thinking hard enough but I got myself some ice cream but I only had a few bites before I was thinking about all the calories in it and how I’d have to skip breakfast tomorrow to make up for it, and then I remembered I have breakfast plans with Alba and I would have to eat and so I knew I had to–... I went to–,” 
You couldn’t go on, crying too hard to get another word out. You covered your face with your hand, more than humiliated at your tears and what you were trying to tell your sister. It felt horribly private, and you didn't want to see the disgust and judgment on your sister’s face. You’d never given her this much detail before, and you were sure she didn’t want to hear this. 
If you’d just opened your eyes, though, you would have seen the opposite of what you were expecting. Alexia was near tears herself, simply from seeing the pain that you were in. You were normally so good at hiding it; even when Alexia knew something was wrong, she couldn’t truly see how much it affected you. Now, though, something in you had broken, and you were falling to pieces in front of her. 
She hadn’t seen you cry like this since you’d broken your ankle training with her a few years ago. All she’d been able to think to do while she waited for Eli to come pick you both up was pull you into her lap, though you were too big for it. 
And it was all she could think to do now, allowing you to tuck yourself into her and cry as hard as you needed to. She held you tightly, as if she could stabilize the world as it crumbled around you, her own tears falling freely now. 
“Alright, alright. It’s okay. It’s all okay, hermanita.” 
“It’s not.” You sobbed, bordering on hysterical now. “I le-let you down.” 
“No,” Alexia disagreed.  “No. You didn’t let me down. This is part of it, chiqui. Part of recovery is relapsing, and I will never ever be disappointed in you for that. I know this isn’t easy.”
You simply didn’t believe her. She had to be disappointed, so you had to keep trying to justify it. 
“I-I hate feeling like this.  I just needed to control something. I just needed to be in control.” 
“I get that. It must be really scary to give up control over what’s going in your body. Listening to the meal plans and eating what we tell you has to be so difficult.” 
And though it was what you’d wanted all week, to hear Alexia acknowledge how hard this was, it didn’t feel right. You were convinced she was just saying whatever she needed to to get you to stop crying, that she was disappointed, even if she wasn’t showing it. She shouldn’t have to push down her justified anger because you were a disaster, she should be mad at you. 
“No, Ale, stop.” You said, though you didn’t have the strength to push away from where your face was buried in the fabric of her sweater. “You’re disappointed, you want to yell. Just yell, please. It’ll make you feel better, and you won’t be mad at me anymore, so please. Just yell. I messed up. I deserve it.” 
Alexia was quiet for almost a full minute. It felt like a stab to the chest that you thought she had to yell in order to work through her feelings. That you were so convinced she was angry with you, disappointed in you. That you were willing to sit through a lecture because you felt so guilty for what you’d done. She hated it all; you weren’t to blame. You were doing your best. She could see that, everyone could see that, so why couldn’t you?
It was as if you thought of yourself as a bad person for having an eating disorder. As if every relapse, every action you’d taken in the haze of your illness, made you a bad person. Being sick didn’t make you bad, and your sister ached to make you see that. 
“Tell me something. After you make yourself throw up, what do you feel? What goes through your head?” 
The question felt like it came from nowhere, the confusion you felt putting a stop to your tears. Instead, you breathed deeply for a minute, thinking. Hearing her say it made your stomach drop. You didn’t like to name it in your head. It was just… something you did, and if it remained unnamed, it wouldn’t matter. 
But it did matter, and even though she was supposed to be mad, Alexia was rubbing your back like you mattered, and it was all so confusing that you just found yourself answering. 
“Awful. Ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted. Guilty. I hate myself after I do it. It feels like the world is ending because I have to start over, like all the progress I’ve made was for nothing.”
“Does it make you feel like a bad person?” 
At this, you jolted away from Alexia, staring at her with wide eyes. What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?
“I guess. I… I know I’m doing something wrong, something I shouldn’t be doing. I know I’m hurting my body and I know I’m hurting the team and my career. I’m doing something wrong and that makes me feel like I’m bad.” You admitted. Completely unsure where that confession had come from, you stared at your sister as you waited for her reply, as if you were shocked by your statement. She didn’t seem to be. 
“It is wrong because it is unhealthy. It is wrong because you are hurting yourself. But… doing something ‘wrong’ doesn’t make you bad. You aren’t a bad person for being sick, you aren’t a bad person for relapsing. You’re doing your best, nena. You are trying. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t make you bad.” 
You didn’t fully believe her, and Alexia could tell. This wasn’t something she could fix with a few words, though, and she knew that. Tomorrow, she’d make sure you talked to Lucia about this, but for now, she was content knowing that you weren’t crying anymore, and you looked significantly less distressed. 
“You’re really not mad? Or disappointed?” 
Alexia swallowed the lump in her throat at your question. “I’m really not. I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to your doctor, I knew to expect this, nena. It’s okay, it’s part of getting better. It can’t all be perfect, it won’t all be perfect. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to try, and I’ll be proud of you. I am proud of you.” 
You wondered how Alexia had gone from a disaster that could barely put a sentence together without saying the wrong thing to this; saying exactly what you needed to hear from her and more. Likely, it was a combination of Olga, the research you know she’d stayed up late doing, and sheer determination to help you the best she could. 
“I know this is hard in a lot of ways,” Alexia continued. “But you can talk to me. Always. Without worrying that I’ll be mad or upset. I promise you, pequeña, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you.” 
“I just hate talking about this.” You admitted. “I don’t like being vulnerable.” 
“I know you don’t. You never have.” Alexia chuckled, thinking about how Eli used to have a jar set on the kitchen counter called the feeling’s jar. If you were upset about something, you were supposed to tell your Mami or your sisters about it, but that almost never happened. Instead, Eli gave you the option to write the feeling down and put it in the jar for someone to read later, when you weren’t in the room. It was the best any of them could do to understand what was going through your head, even as a child. “Would it make it better if I was vulnerable too? If I talk about something hard with you?” 
You laughed, thinking she was joking, but when you glanced at her, she was completely serious, earnestly staring at you. 
“Maybe.” You said suspiciously, highly doubtful that Alexia was about to tell you anything that really mattered to her. If you were stubborn about your feelings, it was because Ale was too. 
Alexia just nodded, almost solemnly, fixing her attention on the ceiling above you both before she began speaking. “This season… this season has been harder. It’s always been hard switching off from football and taking a break when I need to, but it’s like… I have all this stuff outside of football that deserves my attention too. And it’s even harder now.” 
“Other stuff… being Olga?”
Your sister nodded, blushing just slightly. “I need to spend less time doing extra training and watching film and obsessing over strategies.  I just… I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to train every day. I have to do the most that I can.” 
“Or what?”
“Or… I don’t know. I’d feel bad. I’d fail the team. But if I don’t find a better balance…” Alexia paused, taking a deep breath. You could have cried, again, from how much you appreciated her in that moment. Telling you things you knew she struggled to share, so you’d feel less alone. “Olga is always on me about self care, and I’m worried I’ll lose her if I don’t figure out how to take breaks and leave football behind when I come home, at least a little. And I really, really don’t want to lose her.” 
You thought hard, knowing that Alexia deserved the absolute best advice you could give her, even if she wasn’t explicitly asking for it. 
“I don’t think you’re going to lose her, Ale. But I think she deserves better than being second best to your job until you retire. It’s like you said, you need a balance. Sometimes, football is going to come first. That’s just part of the job. But you also have to make sure she comes first too, sometimes. Even if you have to do something that makes you uncomfortable, like miss an extra training session or not watch all the available film you can get your hands on.” 
By the time you stopped talking and looked at your sister, she looked almost stunned, as though she wasn’t expecting you to have anything very helpful to say. 
“When did you get good at giving relationship advice?” She asked. “The last time I asked you for advice like this you told me to spray paint I love you on Jenni’s car as an apology.” 
You laughed. “That was like… 10 years ago, Ale. I’ve grown up.” 
“You really have.” Your sister got a rather pensive look on her face, as if she was just seeing for the first time that you were no longer a little kid. In effort to avoid any further sappiness, you voiced the idea that had popped into your head a few minutes ago. 
“Didn’t Olga say she doesn’t have much work to do tomorrow? You should take her to lunch.” 
“We have training.” Alexia said automatically.
You rolled your eyes. “I know. Skip. It’s a gym session and film that you’ve probably already watched. Skip it and take your girlfriend out. No one will care.” 
It was clear that the idea made Alexia uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Her posture had become stiff and her hands were clenched almost as tightly as her jaw was. 
 But she thought about the last time she’d done something spontaneous for Olga, and the way the brunette's face had lit up. It had just been flowers picked up on the way home from training, but it had clearly meant a lot to her. Alexia wanted to see that look on Olga’s face again. Soon. 
“Okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “How do I skip? Is it like school? Should I lie and say I’m sick?” 
You laughed again, but Alexia joined in this time. “No, tonta. Just say you have a personal commitment. It’s not like anyone is going to ask questions.” 
“Mmm. Well, you’re coming with us.” 
You looked at her like she was stupid. “No I’m not. That would ruin the romantic date with your girlfriend.” 
Alexia frowned, trying to think of a way she could make you a part of this too. A way she could make you want to try because she was trying. “Fine, but I’m bringing you back lunch, okay?” 
Suddenly, you looked just as uncomfortable as your sister had, but you agreed nonetheless. You couldn’t not try if Alexia was trying. And you both knew that what you had to do was harder than what she had to do. It wasn’t really about that, though. It was about your sister understanding how difficult this process was, and telling you that you didn’t have to be perfect, just like she wasn’t. 
Recovery wasn’t perfect. Existing wasn’t perfect. It was about trying. It was about knowing there needed to be a change, and doing your best to make one. 
Trying your best didn’t have to be perfect, or without fault. Alexia almost threw herself into a panic attack the next day when she remembered she was missing a captains meeting, but Olga had calmed her down and Irene had promised to send her copious notes. 
The look on Olga’s face had made it all feel worth it when Alexia had asked her of the plan you’d come up with. 
“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Alexia had asked casually, as her and Olga stood side by side at the stove, cooking dinner. 
“After training?” Olga had wondered, confused. 
“No. No training tomorrow, I’m taking the day off.” 
It was very worth it when Olga practically dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and launched herself at Alexia, wrapping the taller woman in a tight hug. It was so, so worth it when Olga whispered a soft I’m proud of you in Alexia’s ear. 
It wasn’t easy when you tried to eat lunch the next day. It wasn’t easy when you were done, and when you cried into your sister’s shoulder, when all you wanted to do was get rid of it. 
But it was worth it later, when Alexia told you how proud she was of you, and you knew she meant it. You believed her. The next day, when Lucia told you she thought you were making good progress. Every step forward wasn’t without some faltering, but you moved forward anyway.
You moved through recovery. Forwards and backwards. Mostly forwards. Returning to training, to matches, to doing what you loved. To feeling like yourself again. 
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect, but change was worth it. Getting better was worth it. 
didn't plan on finishing this and getting it out tonight but it was flowing really well and i... think... i'm... happy... with.... it??? anyway! thanks for reading <3
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