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#you guys soured his mood
flamesignite · 1 month
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What's Ed short for?
He got small legs
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"Now's not the time for joking around. I'm really not in the mood."
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mochinon-yah · 4 months
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YOU GUYS DID NOT SAY THAT BOOTHILL HAS A FREAKING SAD DISASTROUS ABSOLUTELY HEARTBROKEN JUST UNDENIABLE SOBBING BACKSTORY??????
WHAT.
PLS, HUH.
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tinycoffeeroom · 4 months
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more than enough | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
📍 Miami
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others
landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!
See 997,729 other comments
fan you can tell lando runs his own social media... ↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden
oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved! ♥️ landonorris ↳ landonorris you next osc!!!
maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner! ♥️ landonorris
mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart) ♥️ landonorris
fan WHERE IS Y/N?????? ↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him
fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week
fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends
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liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others
f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.
fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????
fan i'm gonna dox him ↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you
fan i have a knife.
fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???
fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there ↳ fan we hate insecure men
fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear
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It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock. 
Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips. 
He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock. 
The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on. 
When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”. 
To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed. 
Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence. 
Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night. 
God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat. 
And maybe he was. 
If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you. 
Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset. 
He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”
He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”
The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration. 
Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking. 
The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life. 
Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms. 
As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically. 
Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you. 
Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins. 
He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down. 
You were crying. And he had no idea why. 
Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day. 
Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him. 
You’d locked the door. 
In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever. 
“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird. 
The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”
He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends. 
He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”
More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”
He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”
“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said. 
“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”
He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”
He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point. 
Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”
Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back. 
He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”
Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando. 
He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them. 
This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption. 
The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”
You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”
He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”
Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice. 
You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest. 
Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”
He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough. 
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rainrot4me · 2 months
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Do You Think About Her?
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Summary: Jeff liked to tease Toby about his lack of experience with women. So when coming home from a mission with the two, you decide to tell Jeff off, spurring him into a jealous fit to see how far he can push you both.
Characters: Jeff the Killer & Ticci Toby x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Teasing, Toby is inexperienced, Jeff’s an asshole, fingering, eating out, embarrassment, dub-con, blowjob, fucking in/on a truck, voyeurism, double penetration, vaginal, slight power struggle
Words: 5.0k
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Jeff was known to make Toby the brunt of his jokes.
Whenever the twitching boy would stutter too much or laugh a little too hard, Jeff was always quick to jump on his ass and say something. Whether Toby took the remarks seriously or not, the pale killer never let up.
So whenever Toby accidentally let it slip that the farthest he had ever gotten with a girl was a blowjob, the whole mansion groaned with the frequency Jeff brought it up. Whenever he got a chance to embarrass the brunette you best believe he was going to, despite your belief that Toby could easily lay his ass out but just chose not to.
You had been sleeping around with Jeff for a while, the horny killer always willing to show you a good time whenever you asked for it. But that also meant dealing with his obnoxious mouth, and whatever bullshit insults he had conjured that day. So when you got wind of Jeff’s hounding on the boy, your heart ached. You and Toby were about the same age, and your backstories for how you ended up under Slender’s care were more or less the same. Bad home life turned murderous. There was a sense of familiarity in him, so you couldn’t just let your obnoxious fuck buddy run his mouth without you saying something.
“Listen, Jeff.” You groaned, curling your legs under you in the passenger seat of his old truck, heading back to the mansion after a particularly aggravating mission. Jeff eyed you, head propped on his fist as he leaned against the open window, the cool night air wafting in as he drove down the familiar back roads. Toby sat quietly in the back seat, staring out the window as his brown curls swayed in the wind. Slender had assigned the three of you together, apparently unaware of the high tensions between the two boys. It just made completing the mission that much more difficult. “You’ve gotta lay off Toby. The poor kids gonna cut your head off if you don’t quit talking about his dick.” You mumbled, staring at the dense trees flying by. Jeff groaned, sitting back against his seat as he turned a sharp curve, cringing at you. A slow rock song mumbled through the radio, the atmosphere nice besides the sour mood in the truck.
“Ain’t my fault the stutter’s practically a virgin.” He laughed dryly, looking into the rearview mirror and catching Toby’s nasty look at him, neck jerking. You were assigned some bullshit job to take out a couple of guys who vandalized the mansion, how they ever got that close and lived you had no idea. But with Toby bickering with Jeff’s snarky attitude, it was nearly impossible for them to focus. Two hours longer than it should have taken, you were finally headed back to the mansion, praying to get away from the two. 
“Don’t be acting like you weren’t a virgin before I came along.” You huffed, turning to catch Toby snickering lowly, looking back out the window quickly before Jeff could see. Jeff grits his teeth, rolling his eyes as he leans forward, staring daggers at you. “Oh, come on now. You’re talking real big for someone that begs for me to fuck them once a week.” He snarled, reaching his arm across the console and gripping your thigh tightly, glancing between you and the road. Toby was still laughing quietly, amused by the bickering not focused on him for once. But this time Jeff heard him, whipping his wide eyes around quickly to laugh at the boy. “No fucking way the virgin’s laughing!” He hollered, throwing his head back as he laughed annoyingly, just loud enough to prove a point. You slapped his arm, pushing his hand off your thigh as you hissed.
“Jeff.”
He rolled his eyes, glancing between you and the rearview mirror, snarling at Toby. The brunette just stared awkwardly between you two, back pressed flush against the seat as you turned to look back at him, nodding your apology. Toby smiled at you, his cheek twitching at the movement. But as you turned back forward, Jeff’s pale face sat shocked and angry as he glanced between the two of you. You glared at him, but that felt all too much as he faced forward quickly, shoving the wheel to the left and throwing the truck off the road, pulling next to the thick treeline and slamming on the brakes. You yelped, bracing your hands on the dash as he threw the truck in park and shut the engine off, the low rock song still beating through the old speakers. Toby cursed, groaning as he pushed himself off of Jeff’s seat and shook his head.
Before you could berate the pale killer, he was already throwing open his door, jumping out and quickly shoving the back door open as well. You watched as Toby struggled frantically against him, punching his shoulders as Jeff hauled him from the truck and onto the grass below. You yelled, throwing open your door and dodging to the opposite side of the truck. Jeff was already on top of the boy, loud grunts and curses ringing as they pushed against each other, fists flying and grappling the other. Toby was holding him off, but with Jeff holding his knee on his stomach, there was little Toby could do to fight him off. They were throwing their palms into each other’s faces, pushing their necks and nearly hurting themselves. So you yelled, instincts thrown as you gripped Jeff by his messy hair, tugging him back by the head until he was hissing. 
As you pulled him off of the smaller boy, you beat his chest with your fist, furious. “What the fuck are you doing?!” You snarled, pushing his chest back against the side of the truck with a loud thud. Thankfully this road was practically abandoned, nobody having any reason to travel back this far unless it was a hunting season, so no one just saw the throwdown that you just broke up. Toby panted behind you, your body standing between the two so Jeff had no choice but to focus on your angry face. “Fu- fuckin’ psycho…” Toby grits, spitting onto the ground as he sits up on his elbows. You still stared at Jeff, your questioning expression enough to make him groan. 
When Toby began to cough, you turned, reaching an arm out to help him stand. You gave him a once over, making sure Jeff hadn’t done any serious damage as you hauled him up. He was slightly taller than you, his goofy smile thankful as he pulled his mask down under his chin, wiping the dirt from his cheek. You sighed, turning back to Jeff and glaring, but getting caught off guard by his disgusted expression. Jeff towered over the both of you, his nasty scowl making you worried. 
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you two were fuckin’.” Jeff growled, pushing off the truck and shouldering the two of you apart, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and staring into the woods. Toby and you awkwardly glanced at each other, the brunette stepping out of the way as you shuffled to Jeff’s side. “Jeff. You’re being unreasonable.” You grit, shoving his shoulder as he glanced at you, groaning. But he turned back to Toby, glaring daggers at the boy until he glanced back at you, a small smirk appearing on his sullen face. The pale killer shuffled to Toby’s side, throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders, making him flinch away. Jeff held his head tight against his side, making the boy stare through his messy hair at you as you nervously watched. “Tell me, twitch. You ever thought about my girl before? While you’re jerkin’ it, maybe?”
There was a nasty grin on Jeff’s face as you blushed, crossing your arms as the brunette stared at the ground. Jeff didn't appreciate the silence so he hauled Toby’s head up, gripping him by the back of the hair and making his eyes face you. “Jeff-”
“Ah, ah. I’m asking him.” Jeff cut you off, nudging Toby by his side until his shoulders twitched under the pressure. “Whaddya say, Toby?” You glanced nervously between the two, both of their eyes on you as you waited for either an answer or for Jeff to shove off. Music still thumped from the truck, the cool night air blowing your hair gently until there were goosebumps on your skin.  Toby’s eyes frantically glanced between you and the ground, his freckled cheeks a dark tint as he searched for an answer. You had no idea what had gotten into Jeff, but you were growing tired and more embarrassed by the second. Toby closed his eyes, shaking his head as Jeff scoffed, shoving him back to the ground
“I guess we’ll just find out then, huh?” Jeff smiled wildly, stepping over Toby to move to you, your body subconsciously taking a step back before pale hands wrapped around your waist, pushing you in front of him. Jeff stood flush behind you, hands on your hips as he looked down at Toby, the brunette perched against the rear tire of the truck. You pushed against Jeff's hands, protesting lightly as he hugged around your waist, nudging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing lightly, keeping his eyes on Toby the whole time. You groaned, trying to squirm away from his grasp as he nibbled on your neck, kissing small pecks up your jaw and to your ear. Your cheeks grew hot, anxiously glancing between Jeff and Toby, the brunette’s eyes having a hard time looking away from you as Jeff ravaged the side of your face. 
You stifled a groan when Jeff’s cool hands slid under your shirt, pressing light touches against your skin. You gasped, tugging your shirt down as his arms pushed the fabric up, panicking against him. “Jeff- Stop-” You huffed, tugging at his arms, but the pale killer only laughed, nibbling behind your ear as he watched Toby carefully become flustered. You glanced at the brunette, his cheeks dark and knees pressed close to his chest, unable to do anything but watch you fidget under pale arms. Jeff was making a spectacle out of you, teasing the poor boy at your expense. But there was little you could do as he tugged your shirt up, despite your protests.
When he got your shirt over your head, you could literally see the panic in Toby’s eyes. You screwed your eyes shut, whining as Jeff reached behind to unclip your bra and tug it off your shoulders. The brunette was quick to look down, finding your feet inches away from him far more interesting. Jeff didn’t appreciate that, taking your tits in his hands and kneading roughly. “Oh, don’t get shy now, twitch. You gotta own up to how much of a pervert you are.” The killer smiled, pinching your nipples until he heard you hiss, your cheeks hot and breath heavy. 
“The o- only pervert here is yo- you, Jeff…” Toby grunted, eyes glancing up quickly to your tits but back down nervously as he caught the fingers on them. You desperately tugged on Jeff’s hoodie sleeves, teeth gritted as he finally let go and ran his hands down your waist. His cool hands were quick to unbutton your jeans, pushing his hand past your waistline and down into your panties. You yelped, grabbing at his arm and begging the perverted hand out, Jeff only groaning. “Oh, stop acting like you don’t fuckin’ love this, babe.” He hissed in your ear, gripping your wrists and tugging them behind your back, his left hand securing them between his body as his right reentering your panties. You whined, hips bucking frantically as his thick fingers slid between your folds, pushing your wetness onto the digits. Jeff chuckled lowly, pressing his right knee between your legs and forcing your thighs open as his fingers prodded against your clit. 
Toby couldn’t look away now, his flushed cheeks dark as his eyes widened. He was twitching frantically, his neck jerking against the mental override he was experiencing. You stared at him through heavy eyes, embarrassment tugging at your stomach as you begged the boy to look away. Jeff was always one for proving a point no matter the expense, so as he pushed his fingers into your entrance, stretching you wide, he was quick to snap at the brunette. 
“Well look at that, twitch. You ever fingered a girl before? Ever made her squirm this much?” Jeff teased, Toby’s head shaking slowly as his lips fell open, his eyes refusing to look anywhere else. Your arms protested against Jeff, but his strong grip held both of them easily, keeping your chest out and ass pressed back against him. His bulge was already evidently, his psychotic personality getting him excited at your struggle. His thick fingers curled inside of you, pushing little whines and hisses from your lips until you were hunched over, gasping as pleasure racked your cunt. Jeff was chuckling against your neck, nibbling on the skin and leaving little red marks wherever his teeth grazed. It made you whine, your eyes growing heavy and your face hot as you were forced to face Toby, hunched over so your face was right above his. A cool palm nudged against your clit, making your hips grind down and relish in the friction. Toby was so lost in the scene, his knees rubbing together nervously as he glanced quickly between your flushed face and Jeff’s hands shoved into your pants. His bulge was evident against his jeans, his hands gripping the grass below him as he nudged his thighs together, desperately trying to grasp at some sort of friction. 
Jeff ground his hips into your clothed ass, his bulge rubbing against you as he huffed against your neck. “Come on, tell the boy how good you feel.” He grunted, slotting his thick fingers in and out of your cunt quickly, your hips bucking against his palm. He was pulling gasps from you, every curl of his fingers making you mewl your pleasure. Your embarrassment had faded, excitement coursing through you as Toby began to palm himself through his jeans, his hitched groans making you whine as you locked eyes. “Ah… Jeff…” You groaned through gritted teeth when his thick fingers pressed deep against your walls, gushing your arousal around his cool fingers. The killer chuckled, letting your wrists go to snap onto your hip, pulling your hips back so he could grind into your ass easier. You felt your stomach knotting, your hips stuttering against his fingers as you began to whine, biting your cheek. “Toby…” Toby gasped under you, eyes wide as he ground into his hand, mesmerized by you. Eyes locked, you could feel yourself close to that familiar edge, chasing Jeff’s fingers as they curled deep. 
But as if he could sense it, Jeff tugged his fingers out of your warm walls, sliding them out of your pants and chucking wickedly as you whined. You were shocked, hips still bucking as he held your hips, refusing to let you move. You were teetering on that lovely edge, so close to getting off but so quickly stripped of that feeling that you could’ve cried. 
Jef tugged your pants down, pulling your damp panties with them until you kicked them off your ankles. You were completely exposed to the cool air, goosebumps riddling your skin as Jeff bent down, hooking his hands under your knees and tugging you up quickly. Your back was pressed flush against his chest, laying all your weight as your held your knees apart, your throbbing cunt face first with Toby’s face. You whined loudly, hands reaching back to grip Jeff’s messy hair as your cheeks grew dark, eyes pleading as you stared at the boy under you. “Go on. Make her cum.” Jeff commanded, holding you up easily as he watched Toby, beckoning the nervous boy. 
The brunette sat up unsurely, climbing onto his knees as he watched your dark face. He stripped his jacket, letting it fall to the ground behind him as he pressed closer, heavy breath brushing against your sensitive folds. You whined, hips trying to buck to his face but Jeff’s hands holding you still, tsking. “Go on, twitch.” Toby nodded nervously, sliding his fingers up to press your folds apart, eyes flinching to your face worriedly when you gasped. His freckled face looked so cute under you, his goggles pushing his bangs off his forehead and letting you see the flushed skin as he pushed closer. His tongue pressed first, licking a thick stripe between your folds before his soft lips pressed in, sucking on your sensitive clit. Jeff growled, pushing your hips closer to the brunette as you moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “Oh, God-” You hummed, eyes slamming shut as Toby flicked his tongue over your sensitive bud. 
Your back arched against Jeff, fingers gripping his hair tight as you rutted against the warm tongue lapping at your arousal. Toby spread your lips with his fingers, flattening his tongue against your entrance as humming against you. He pushed further, slipping his tongue into your warmth and making you groan, your hand instantly shooting down to rub your clit and push you close. Toby’s eyes stayed hooded, watching eagerly as your fingers brushed against his nose, his tongue shoved into your cunt. “Le- Let me…” He grunted, sliding his hand up to shove yours away and take its place, slowly circling your clit with the pads of his fingers. You could barely breathe through all the gasps and whines that spilt from your lips, Jeff’s fingernails gripping your leg as he watched the scene unfold. He was smiling and huffing his arousal, teeth nibbling against your ear as he pushed your hips against Toby’s tongue, pulling your knees back further to give the brunette more access. “Does his tongue feel good, babe? You gonna cum on his face?” Jeff cooed, rutting his hips up against your bare ass as Toby lapped at your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to push deeper.
Nodding frantically, you could already feel yourself clamping down, Jeff’s lewd words making your core twitch as fingers rubbed against your clit. “Toby-” You whined, bucking your hips up as you felt your orgasm crash into you. Toby was quick to hold your hips, burying his face deeper into your cunt as he soaked up your arousal on his tongue, groaning at the taste. Jeff growled, teeth digging into your shoulder as Toby’s fingers rubbed your orgasm out, your thighs trying to twitch shut. When you finally breathed deep, Toby slipped his tongue out, hooded eyes gazing at your hot face, your cheeks flushed and sweaty. He smiled goofily, fingers spreading your soaked lips as he admired your still throbbing cunt, palming himself. Jeff slowly let your legs down, hooking his arm around your waist when your knees buckled from your sensitivity. 
“Damn, Toby…” He groaned, unzipping his jeans and freeing his heavy cock, the tip already smeared with pre. The pale killer gripped you to his side, staring down at the brunette still on his knees as he began to fist his length lazily. Toby sat back on his calves, eyes flicking nervously as he watched Jeff tug you towards the truck, pressing his back against the door and holding you in front of him. Toby stood awkwardly, fidgeting his hands as he watched Jeff push you back, gripping his hands around your head and bringing your mouth to his cock. You didn’t even think, mouth opening almost on instinct as you bent at the waist, bracing your hands against his thighs and taking the twitching length in your mouth like you had done it a thousand times before. Jeff sighed, gripping your hair into a ponytail and bobbing you slowly as he began to talk. 
“You wanna fuck her?” He grinned, grunting as you moaned your approval around his girth. Toby gasped quietly, eyes focused on watching you take Jeff so easily as his cock throbbed against his jeans. Jeff spread his legs wider, pressing his shoulders back against the glass of the door and cupping your cheek, forcing you to bury your face onto his cock, gagging against him. The pale killer groaned, eyeing Toby expectantly as the brunette nodded, his nervousness fading as he watched you submit to Jeff so easily. He wanted that. He wanted you to want him that way. 
Toby had always thought you were cute, his aggravation with Jeff spreading when the killer claimed you for his use. Toby thought the guy was ungrateful for such a pretty girl as you, wishing it was him who was dragging you upstairs to his room after a bad day. The bad thing about all living in the same hallway was the lack of noise privacy, so every time Toby heard your little whines echoing against his wall, there was little he could do against his straining arousal. 
But now, with your hips in the air and your cunt so beautifully waiting, Toby would show you. Despite his lack of experience, the brunette had watched enough porn to know what he wanted, to know exactly how he needed to treat you. The boy nodded, unzipping his jeans and sliding behind you, awkwardly gripping your hips. Your back muscles twitched and pulsed as you strained to bob at the pace Jeff was wanting you to go, the killer’s dark eyes grinning as he watched Toby nervously slip out his cock. The tip was red and leaking, twitching desperately as the brunette bent his knees, angling his head to press between your soft folds and find your entrance. You gasped, immediately pressing back against him but Jeff’s hands held your head, giving you little room to move as you slobbered on his length. 
The killer was being possessive, inspecting the brunette's every move as he pushed into you slowly, watching your expressions for any sign that you weren’t enjoying it. You moaned around his cock, tongue flattening against the underside and flicking against the gaudy veins that ran up it. Jeff huffed, relishing in the way your slobber pooled at the sides of your mouth as you screwed your eyes shut, focusing on not choking on his girth. But he wanted you to. He wanted to put on a good show for the kid. 
Placing his hands on either side of your head, he thrust quickly into the heat of your mouth, head knocking against the back of your throat and making you gag. He smiled, pulling back to the head before slamming back in, trying his best to pull any noises he could from your constricted throat. 
Toby watched carefully, mouth hanging lazily as he bottomed out inside of you. You were so warm, the heat swallowing him impossibly tight as he struggled not to move. His cock wasn’t as long as Jeff’s, but fuck did it still stretch you so good. You ground your hips back, moaning at the way the boy’s nails dug into your hips desperately. You had already ruined porn for him, your cunt gripping him the way his fist never could. He was already hooked. “God… O- Oh my god…” Toby gasped, shallowly thrusting into your cunt and drooling at the way your entrance tugged against him every time he pulled out. You were so pretty, your flushed skin warm under his scarred fingers, he couldn’t help but knead your ass apart as he ground into you.
In your opinion, the two boys were so impossibly different. Jeff was an ego trip, dick thinking before his brain did and making him a cocky little bitch who loved to show off. But Toby, on the other hand, was an awkward kid whose brain ran faster than the rest of him. It made him sensitive, but so dangerously impulsive at the same time. But right now, with their cocks buried on either side of you, their differences were even more prominent. Jeff was rough and loud, even on his best days caring only if you ended up babbling his name out of overstimulation. But Toby was nervous, inexperienced and trying his best to fulfill those urges he so desperately had. It was dizzying how differently they treated you.
You ground back against Toby, arching your back against his small thrusts and begging him to dare faster. He panted behind you, neck twitching and face contorting with every stretch he could feel inside of you. “Faster, twitch,” Jeff grunted, angling his cock in your mouth so he could fuck your throat, smiling at the way you gurgled on your spit. Toby hesitated for a minute, looking at the killer unsurely. 
“She wants you to go, ah, faster.” He hissed, snapping his hips as you gripped his jeans, begging for air. After so much time sleeping around, Jeff could read your body language like a book. It was beyond annoying, especially when he could tell you were aroused despite your bickering that you weren’t. But in this case, you thanked him by pressing your head down further, pushing your nose into his pubes. 
Toby nodded frantically, spreading his feet wider so he could angle himself up, slowly snapping his hips faster. He gripped your hips, his fingerless gloves nipping against your skin until you were whining loudly, gut-clenching in pleasure as his cock nudged against your g-spot. You arched your back, letting the brunette groan and hiss his pleasure behind you as you thrust your hips back, matching his pace. It wasn’t long before he was ramming into you, skin snapping loudly as he gave in and abandoned his nervousness. Jeff was eager too, nearly matching the brunette’s pace as he forced his cock down your throat, only pulling back every so often so you could suck on the head and catch your breath. “So- So warm…”
Jeff grits his teeth, challenging the twitching boy opposite of him as he stares daggers through his hooded eyes. “You gonna cum, twitch? Gonna spill in her?” Jeff was teasing him, the killer’s own orgasm quick on his heels as he slipped out of your mouth, slapping the wet length against your cheek. You were gasping, whines mixing as Toby snapped his hips, hissing. “I- I, ah, can’t-” He whined, your walls clamping against his aching cock, milking him quickly. Jeff grinned, popping his cock back in your mouth and letting you suck on the head while he talked. “Sure you can. Had her on the pill for a while now. Get to fill her cunt full whenever I want.” 
It was true. Jeff was so insanely horny that he had opted for stealing birth control pills from the pharmacy off the highway nearby just so he didn’t have to pull out. But you couldn’t complain, cumming around a cock was heavenly. 
Toby stared wide-eyed, a new fire igniting in him as he pressed his hands around your waist and began to slam his hips brutally. You yelped, eyes rolling as the boy thrust deeply into you, his teeth gritted and grunting. Jeff laughed wickedly, tugging your chin down with his thumb as he pushed his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, grunting as he matched Toby’s pace in your throat. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight when Toby gripped your hips and hauled you up, your feet leaving the ground. He hunched over you, breathing raggedly as he fucked up into your cunt, squelching and slapping loud in your ears. 
It was all too much, so many sensations and so full your body couldn’t resist itself anymore. You buried your around Jeff’s cock as you came, eyes rolling hard as your cunt clamped down against the unfamiliar girth. Your legs were spasming, feet kicking in the air as Toby moaned, digging his nails deep. 
They both buried in you at the same time, their ragged moans and loud breathing making your gut twist as you felt warm seed spilling into you. You tried to swallow quickly, choking on the salty liquid as Jeff hunched over you, gripping your head tight in his pale hands. Toby’s cock twitched inside of you, knees shaking as he let himself spill into your warmth. Jeff pulled out first, letting his leaking head rest against your swollen lips as tears spilt down your cheeks, your mind so hazy you couldn’t breathe straight. He chuckled, hooking his hands under your armpits and tugging you up against his chest, Toby slipping out of you with a groan. You panted against Jeff’s shoulder, eyes heavy and cunt throbbing as he picked you up and snapped at Toby to grab your clothes. 
So when Toby climbed into the passenger seat and Jeff sat you sideways on his lap, tugging you close to his chest, you breathed deep. Toby’s bangs were stuck against his forehead from the sweat, his red freckled cheeks watching you so closely as he ran his hand between your thighs, your head falling onto his shoulder as he fingered his cum inside of you. Jeff grinned as he started the truck, hauling it back onto the road and speeding towards the mansion, occasionally reaching over to press his thick fingers in with Toby’s and make you cry. The brunette pressed his chin against your head, rubbing your clit as Jeff’s fingers pressed Toby’s cum deep into your cunt, tugging yet another orgasm out of you as the same slow rock music pounded against the speakers. 
You could barely think as they dressed you, pulled up to the mansion and hauled you inside, Toby carrying you to your room and setting you between them as they cleaned you up. Jeff still bickered with Toby, rolling your eyes as you slipped into sleep below them. 
But as the weeks passed and Toby began showing up at your door with that pleading look in his eyes as frequently as Jeff, there was little you could do to resist. Even when the two showed up together, scheming some new position they wanted to try and arguing the whole time, your heart fluttered.
So when their sharp words turned to breathy groans, you realized that maybe the only way they could stand each other was if you were distracting them, giving them something better to focus on.
This is a birthday present for @carmoronic! Live it up!!!!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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yrqrnc · 3 months
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biker!haechan as your boyfriend who you’re mad at (but are you, really?)
★: fluff fluff fluff fluff & a very sexy biker!lee haechan
m.list
( 𝟔 : 𝟓𝟎 𝐩𝐦 )
“i know you’re mad at me angel, but please. hold onto me, or you’re gonna fall off.” your boyfriend pleads as he glances at you for a quick second through the rear-view mirror of his bike.
“no.”
your answer is simple and sweet bitter. a classic sign for him to know how upset you actually are at him, no matter how silly or random the reason may be.
and see, the thing is, in a room full of stubborn people, you would be superior. that is one thing both you and haechan have known for a long time.
so it didn’t matter how sweetly he talked to you right now, if you’re upset, you are upset.
“babe.”
you can hear the frustration in his voice, and that pisses you even more because, how can he be frustrated?
you are.
you were furious.
he was the one who had been all careless about driving on your way to the café by speeding and doing those careless stunts with his damned bike to apparently “show off his amazing skills”, and on top of that, he was also the one who then proceeded to smile a little too unnecessarily sweetly and be a little too unnecessarily friendly to the new pretty friend of chenle, whom you guys had met on your group hangout today.
of course, those were reasons to be mad.
right?
because he was quite shameless about it too. complimenting her right in front of your face and thinking you didn’t catch him side-eyeing you every 2 seconds to see your reaction everytime he interacted with her?
you found him utterly annoying.
most of the time, it was affectionately, but today, your patience had been running short and he had pushed your buttons too far.
your boyfriend was aware of that, and he thought it quite cute, actually.
however, riding the bike as his pillion rider while being on that current speed of the bike could be quite dangerous, and he only wanted to assure your safety in that moment.
“just focus on driving, haechan. i won’t fall off”
“baby, you will.”
“oh my god,” you groan out in annoyance. he really wouldn’t stop.
“i said i won’t. you know what? look—”
his consistent “hold on to me”s eventually get on your nerves in your already sour mood, and you decide it would be best to just prove it to him;
show him that nothing will happen at all—for once—so that he can shut his pretty mouth up and get you both home quietly and hopefully, try to then make it up to you there.
and to do just that, you start trying to completely detach your body from his.
you just saw absolutely no need to hold onto him like he was pushing you to do.
you let your hands fly in the air as you shift back on your seat, away from him, to show him that he’s overreacting and you’re really not going to—
it takes about half and a quarter second for the furious wind to hit you harshly, rolling in along with the fast velocity of the bike, and you’re almost sent flying back off the vehicle.
almost.
in that panicked state of mind, you latch onto haechan’s back instantly, grabbing onto him like your life depended on it.
and it did, actually, for a second there.
your mind becomes so frenzied for a moment; you almost missed how, the moment you shifted away from him, he slowed down and one of his hands immediately flew back to reach you, in an attempt to hold you and pull you back to keep you safe and steady.
then, there’s a moment of silence.
there’s a painfully long moment of silence; only the rumbles of the engine of the bike to be heard.
you try to process what had just happened and how you just quite literally just embarrassed yourself with all the confidence you had about around 10 seconds ago, while he takes his time to calm himself down and steady himself and the bike after knowing you’re still there behind him.
the loud quietness is humiliating until he finally breaks it.
“...are you okay?” his voice comes out a little shaky as if, after the initial panic, he’s now trying to bite back a laugh, and you know he’s looking at you through the bike’s mirror again, with that stupid smirk etched onto his face.
“yes.”
this time, too, somehow, your reply is short and bitter sweet, and biker!haechan finds you absolutely adorable as you very slowly sneak your hands up his chest from the back in a tight hold, sticking closer to him, while you try your absolute best to not face him.
only for your own safety purposes, of course.
because— fine, alright. maybe he was not all that wrong when he’d instructed you. you’d tried to prove him wrong, and nature had just done you the other way around.
and frustratingly, yet once again, he thinks you don’t hear him when he stifles a laugh right in front of you.
“shut up. don’t.”
you mumble out, in poor attempt to keep up with the anger instead of the embarrassment that was swallowing you up right now.
but you’re really just pouting in the backseat and your boyfriend knows that.
you don’t know whether you want to jump off this damned bike willingly yourself now, or if you want to hide your face in his back and never show yourself again.
“mm. didn’t, angel.”
and you hate how you can hear that cocky smile on his face without having to look at him as he speaks.
dumb, dumb, and stupidly hot lee donghyuck.
you loathe him, and both of you know how true that stands.
“are you hungry? we can grab some takeout from that place you liked last time.” his voice is sweet as it always is, as he suggests.
but your mind is still a fuzzy swirl of embarrassment and irritation at him from earlier, and it ends up speaking something completely against your actual wants.
“no i’m fine.”
“baby,” he smiles softly as he glances at you once more, “is that your anger talking or you?”
“…”
“you don’t want that beef soup ramen from that place?”
“no, i don’t.”
and he just knows from your tone that you’re sulking behind him as you say this, your mind screaming something else completely.
( ★ )
“you want something to drink too?”
haechan asks exactly 17 minutes later as you both stand to order your ramen and chicken wings.
what had you been mad at him about, again?
1K notes · View notes
saetoru · 1 year
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。TANGLED — GETO SUGURU.
contents. just suguru needing his hair brushed for him bc he’s def so me and gets mad over the knots lol—alternative title: princess suguru and his frog <3
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suguru huffs in front of your mirror—and it’s quite the frustrated huff, too—before he slams the hair brush down.
you raise a brow, “you okay over there?”
“no. ‘s knotted,” he mutters, referring to his hair. there’s a quiet grumbling of something unintelligible under his breath before he glares at himself in the mirror.
suguru loves his hair—anyone would know that just by looking at him. most guys use two-in-one shampoo (like satoru) but suguru? he practically hogs your shower space with all of the products he owns. his hair is well maintained and perfectly neat every time you see him. but sometimes, like now, it’s also a pain to brush once it’s knotted. and, well, he doesn’t handle it very well.
“you’ve been brushing for—” you pretend to check your bare wrist for the time, “—like ten minutes,” you giggle.
“very funny,” he grunts bitterly. and then, more petulantly this time, “i’m cutting it off for real this time.”
“you said that last time,” you remind him, eyes glinting with amusement.
“this time i mean it.”
“no you don’t, sugu.”
“i do,” he insists, glaring at you through the mirror, “it’s getting too long, and i don’t have the time to brush all these damn knots every two hours. so, it’s getting cut.”
“okay,” you nod casually—anyone can tell you don’t believe him.
his expression sours. suguru gets in very bad moods when his hair doesn’t cooperate, it’s evident in the way he flares his nostrils and scowls.
“you still don’t believe me? i’m being serious.”
“okay, baby,” you snort, finally deciding to take matters into your own hands as you rise from your bed and walk over. you stand behind him, reaching around him for the hair brush before gently pulling him back to stand closer. “i’ll get it for you, don’t worry. wouldn’t want your princess hair gone.”
“stop calling it that,” he groans, but the tension leaves his shoulders as soon as you gently brush through his strands, starting at the bottom and working your way up. it’s quiet for a bit—nothing but the soft sound of your humming as you work through the tangles in his long (perfect) hair.
“you could’ve just asked if you wanted me to brush it,” you tease after a few moments, “no need to throw a tantrum.”
“glad to see you’re enjoying this,” he rolls his eyes. and then, when you’ve finished and set the brush down, he turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face finds the crook of your neck.
you hum, pecking the side of his head before threading your fingers into his dark locks, stroking through the soft strands and silently marveling at the length.
“you’re so pretty, suguru,” you murmur, “did’ya know that?”
“oh yeah?” he chuckles into your skin, lips curling into a loose smile. his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
“yeah,” you nod, “like a princess. my prettiest princess.”
“i thought i told you to quit with that,” he says exasperatedly—you can feel the heat from his cheeks, and you grin to yourself knowing he’s blushing as he hides his face deeper into your shoulder.
“it’s true,” you insist, “i’m no liar. i’m a truther.”
“debatable,” he mumbles. you smack his shoulder playfully, and he squeezes your hips in response. “aren’t you going to tie it for me too?” he finally asks, and you’re sure there’s a pout curled on those lips of his. you ache to kiss them—and you will, just not right now.
right now, you’ll stay like this a bit longer.
“this is real princess treatment,” you sigh dramatically, “yes your highness. i’ll tie it too.”
“thank you,” he says, thoroughly satisfied. and then, quieter, like it’s a secret only you’re supposed to know, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you happily murmur, “but that might change if you cut your hair.”
“are you only dating me for my hair?”
“yes,” you snicker playfully, “it’s the main appeal. the princess appeal.”
“you know what,” suguru says thoughtfully, “i’ll be your princess.”
“really?” you gasp in excitement, making him nod into your neck as he presses a delicate kiss to your skin.
“sure,” he grins slyly, “and you can be the frog.”
the moment is officially ruined—and for a second, you think you might just have to cut his hair off in his sleep after that one.
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come join me in the most self indulgent drabble once again. also the title being tangled even tho the reference is the princess and the frog is a tad bit funny to me jdjsjd i did giggle i can’t lie
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grandline-fics · 5 months
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Terms of Endearment
DESCRIPTION:  You call them by a term of endearment without realising 
WARNINGS: just fluff, mentions of alcohol in Luffy's
CHARACTERS: Ace, Sabo, Luffy | Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro
WORDS: 1,933
A/N: The next part in this in honour of reaching 500 followers. Hope you all enjoy
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
ACE
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You knew nothing would ever happen between you and the Division Commander. You knew he was just a likeable guy who was friendly and warm with everyone. Countless times you told yourself that he was just nice with everyone and yet still you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat just a little faster when he smiled at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from liking him a little more each time he spoke with you and spent time with you outside of chores and tasks being done onboard the ship. It didn’t matter though, even with the knowledge nothing romantic would happen you were happy to be considered a close friend of Ace’s.
One morning you were perched on the edge of the ship’s railing and keeping a critical eye on the thick wall of cloud draped over the entirety of the sky above the next island you were approaching. It made a stark difference to the clear blue you and the rest of the crew were currently under. You were no stranger to the absurdity of the ever changing weather and separate climates certain islands had but seeing what you were going to be greeted with was starting to sour your mood. It wasn’t as fun stopping at an island if there was a storm to endure.
“Glaring at the clouds won’t make them change you know.” You looked over your shoulder to see Ace hop up onto the railing and sit down beside you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye you were jealous of how relaxed he was and let out a long sigh as you returned your stare to the clouds you could now see were darker than you had originally thought. 
“Who knows, stranger things have happened on these seas.” You mused, scowling harder now that the idea was in your head. “Maybe I have the ability to control weather and neither of us knew it? Don’t know unless I try.”
From beside you Ace laughed, reclining back to support his body on his elbows and grinned up at you. 
“If that were possible, that’d be a pretty dumb gift. Glaring at clouds to make them obey you? You’d get a headache all day.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, getting more comfortable too, lying down and tucking your arms behind your head. 
“Look we can’t all be super amazing and control fire like some people, Ace.” You teased, a small yawn breaking from your lips as your eyes closed. You were still a ways away from the stormy island so you may as well make the most of the sunshine and warmth until then. “Some of us are just boring.”
“I definitely wouldn’t call you boring.” Ace told you. Safely in the knowledge that you couldn’t see him, he could observe you carefully with softened gaze. “You’re one of my favourite people to hang out with.” 
“Aw thank you love, you always know just what to say.” Your relaxed smile brightened considerably but you were too drowsy to open your eyes again to look at the man beside you. It was also why you hadn’t realised your slip of the tongue. Ace however tensed and sat up a little straighter from his once relaxed position. His eyes were widened and a soft pink was dusting his freckled skin. All this time he’d thought his feelings were one-sided and now he was hit with the reality that it might not be the case. Overcome with a burst of excitement and hope he quickly lay back down and used his hat to hide his giddy expression and began to think about how to subtly broach the subject when you were awake.
SABO
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“You’re not going to improve if you don’t keep your focus.” Hack lectured, swiftly knocking Sabo back with ease. Sabo managed to recover from the attack and retaliated with one of his own that was completely dodged to the point it made the attack look so pitiful. Hack paused in the sparring match to frown at the younger Revolutionary. “Seriously, what’s with you today? Do you need to take a break?” Quickly Sabo shook his head and forced himself to keep his attention on Hack but even then he couldn’t help but feel your presence silently calling to him. 
You were oblivious to the power you had over the Chief of Staff, even from the very first day you joined the Revolutionary Army you’d somehow managed to make Sabo immediately endeared to you. Given Sabo’s personality he was able to pass off his momentary slips and lack of concentration when you were around and for the most part others hadn’t made the connection. Most being the word. People like Hack, Koala, and Dragon however knew. Normally Hack wouldn’t mind and ignore it but this was the third time in the short amount of time of the sparring match that he’d seen Sabo zone out and look your way as you were speaking with Dragon about a recent mission you’d been on. Enough was enough. After knocking Sabo onto his back, Hack turned and called you over. You finished your conversation with Dragon and approached the sparring pair with a soft, expectant smile while Sabo got to his feet. “I want you to spar Sabo with me. Perhaps having two opponents will help sharpen his dulled senses.” 
You became concerned to hear Hack’s less than complimentary tone at the blond and you looked to Sabo with a light frown, scrutinising his features carefully. Could it be he was sick? Was something else be bothering him? It wasn't like the Chief of Staff to be so distracted especially when it came to his training. At the suggestion of you fighting along with Hack, Sabo’s expression became a mix of uncertainty and irritation. He didn’t want to spar against you but he couldn’t outright deny Hack requesting you join them given he had no real reason to oppose it. Sabo could only take a breath and adjust his stance while praying he didn’t make an embarrassment of himself.
At first having you as part of the fight helped Sabo when it came to focusing on the fight, by having two skilled fighters attacking he didn’t have the ability to pay attention to his personal feelings. However when he kept his sight on Hack as the priority he’d slipped up and forgotten you. You took the window of opportunity and ducked under Sabo’s arm, your face less than inch from his. Quickly you hooked her arm around his and tucked your foot around his ankle, twisting and knocking him to the ground. You kept a firm hold on Sabo’s wrist and pressed your knee into his back. “Give up sweetie?” you asked innocently, unable to see Sabo’s eyes widen. Before he could respond you were abruptly called for by another Revolutionary to go out on a mission. Pouting you released Sabo and left him and Hack. 
“Please tell me I didn’t imagine that…” Sabo uttered, almost begging Hack. He looked up to see the Fishman grin at him and help him to his feet. 
“No I heard it too. Funny thing is I don’t think they noticed they did it.” Sabo watched your retreating form and brightly smiled. 
“Interesting.”
LUFFY
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For the most part Luffy can be considered fairly clueless about a lot of things if they don’t involve his ambition to be King of the Pirates and obtaining the One Piece, doing whatever he wanted and eating all he wished. That included his own deeper feelings at times. However no matter how complex Luffy’s emotions were about certain things he found it easier to break them down into more simplistic views and gain a better understanding about them. He found he had to do that with you and the longer you were part of his crew the more he had to take an inward look at his feelings. So far he was able to discern that he liked you, he liked being around you and it was mutual because you’d been all too eager to join his crew. For the longest time it was simple as that. 
Things however became complicated one night after he and the rest of the crew helped free another town from a corrupt ruler. As always the celebration was a large affair with plenty of food, music and drink. While Luffy wasn’t a drinker and happily indulged in all the food he could get his hands on, you were pulled into a drinking contest with some of the locals along with Nami, Zoro, Franky, and Usopp. You’d managed to hold your own for a respectable amount but when you felt the world being to tilt and your mind grow hazy you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore. 
Staggering from the table you somehow managed to wander to the only spot you knew you’d feel completely safe and content with. You didn’t know how you managed it, call it instinct or sheer will but you stopped beside your Captain and slid down to sit on the soft grass beside him, leaning against his back for support. Luffy looked over his shoulder to grin at you before continuing to eat. “You lost huh?” he laughed before taking a large bite of a meat skewer.
“It’s cheating when Zoro plays.” You grumbled, shifting to get more comfortable against your Captain. “He’s so smug too. Didn’t even wanna win anyway.” You fell into soft laughter with Luffy and then drifted into content silence. Subconsciously Luffy moved while he ate, seamlessly turning so you were leaning against his side and neither of you seemed to even notice the new position.
When morning came and you woke with a hangover and lack of memory you let out a worried groan, hoping that whatever you’d done wasn’t too embarrassing or at the very least you hoped that everyone else was also too drunk to remember too. Wincing you pushed yourself up to see that you were in your own bed. Hazily you tried to force your brain to work and managed to pull out the image of Luffy which made sense, he was your go-to for anything. Knowing he didn’t drink, you knew you could also rely on him for the truth on what you failed to remember. You found Luffy sitting on Sunny’s head just as you knew he’d be but you became worried to see him frowning, deep in thought. “Everything okay Luffy?” you asked, flinching when Luffy’s head swiftly snapped around to look at you intently. 
“No! You’re not allowed to call me that.” Immediately worry and guilt took hold. What had you done? Would he ever forgive you? Oh no, what if it was so bad he’d kick you off of the ship for good. 
“Wh-what do you mean?“ You asked panicked and feeling sick which was not from the hangover. “Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry but I don’t remember. Please tell me what I did wrong. I can fix it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Luffy’s expression became confused. “I’ve just decided that you can’t call me Luffy anymore I like what you called me last night after I helped you to bed better.” 
“Oh…” you couldn’t tell what you were feeling in that moment exactly. Desperately you tried to think what you called him, silently thankful that whatever it was hadn’t offended him. “Well if you want me to call you that instead you have to remind me.”
“You called me dear.” Luffy grinned while your face reddened.
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jaylaxies · 6 months
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NOW OR NEVER
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PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.
SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.
WC: 1.4k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
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“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”
You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.
You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.
No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).
To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:
Choke me, Spider-Man!
It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.
Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.
The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.
This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.
Crush on a superhero?
Pathetic.
He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?
Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.
Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.
Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.
The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.
“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.
Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?
Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.
“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.
His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.
“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.
“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.
You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.
He smelled so good.
“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”
“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.
He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.
“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.
He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.
Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.
Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.
You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.
“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.
“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.
His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.
He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.
“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”
He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.
He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.
His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.
He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.
You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.
You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.
“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.
Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
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© jaylaxies | tumblr
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hanbinics · 10 days
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!crybaby reader meeting !dealer chris for the first time.
surprise, surprise—your first time meeting chris had been at some stupid frat party.
typically, you don’t go to these kinds of things. you don’t like how crowded they can get, how easily you feel overwhelmed with the blaring music and the warm bodies touching every single part of you when you try to move through the house. sometimes they can be nice—if you actually have someone to talk to or hang out with—but seeing as your best friend is off somewhere tongue wrestling with one of the frat boys the house belongs to, you’re not exactly enjoying yourself.
it shows on your face, too. chris is talking to one of his usual buyers when he glances your way, your pretty features and the little red dress you’re wearing making him do a double-take. you look nothing short of a fuckin’ brat sittin’ on the couch with your arms crossed over your chest, pink lips pressed into a pout while you glower at everyone in the room like they’re to blame for your sour mood. usually he’d steer clear of girls like you, but he can’t help the subtle amusement he feels in wondering if just a little bit of attention would do you any good.
“here—” he hands over the plastic baggie of weed he’d been holding to his buyer, licking over his lower lip, “jus’ take this tonight, and pay me t’morrow. i’ll come collectin’,” he assures him, only offering a curt nod before he’s walking away from the guy entirely.
gaze set on you now, chris makes his way over, hands shoved into his pockets. you don’t realize he’s heading your way until he stops right in front of you, blocking your view of the rest of the party. when you look up at him from beneath your lashes, chris raises an eyebrow.
“the fuck you sittin’ over here poutin’ for?” he asks, squinting down at you. you aren’t sure if he’s trying to be mean—his choice of words isn’t exactly kind, but his tone holds no real malice behind it.
still, you don’t like that he’s just called you out, so instead of answering him verbally, you find yourself shrugging your shoulders instead, opting for the silent treatment. nothing could make this party any better, even if the brunette is kind of cute.
when you don’t answer him, chris can feel one corner of his mouth twitch. his gaze slowly falls over your seated figure, admiring your pretty features and the soft skin your dress doesn’t completely cover. when he decides he likes what he sees, he takes a seat next to you.
you don’t look at him, but you can see him out of the corner of your eye. he’s settled deep into the couch, legs spread out in front of him, like he’s waiting for someone to come take a seat there; you’re annoyed with yourself for the image that comes to mind.
“don’t know why you’d come to a party just to sit all by y’self,” he all but sneers from beside you, shaking his head. he glances your way, but when you still refuse to look at him, he snorts. “gettin’ all pretty jus’ to come pout in the corner. fuckin’ stupid.”
your eyebrows furrow at his poor choice of words, how mean you want to think he is, but your mind is too hung up on the fact that he’d just called you pretty. it catches you off guard, your head turning towards him, but upon seeing the way he’s already studying you, you quickly turn again, frowning at the way he’s just tricked you.
chris can’t help the small smirk on his face. he reaches into his pocket to pull out a joint, twirling the white prerolled between two long fingers. only he doesn’t stop there, reaching back into the same pocket where he’d brushed against something else. when he emerges, he’s holding a bright red lollipop.
the brunette glances over at you, gaze narrowed slightly. “y’wanna sucker?”
furrowing your eyebrows at his offer, you turn to look at him, his hand only partially held towards you with the candy dangling from two long fingers. he’s looking at you like he couldn’t give a shit less whether you take it or not and for some reason, it makes you want it.
when you reach out and take it from him, chris watches you carefully, a lazy smile tugging at his mouth upon the hesitant thanks you offer him. he doesn’t say anything, just shrugging his shoulders in response before he lights up beside you.
for a few minutes, neither of you say anything. you’re absently watching the partygoers around you as your mouth toys with the candy the brunette had given you, vaguely aware of his presence and the way smoke billows from his mouth every so often. eventually, your gaze drifts his way, looking from him to the joint he’s holding between two fingers with curious eyes.
you don’t say anything right away, watching the pretty boy take a drag, but your curiosity gets the best of you soon enough. “can i—could i try that?”
wispy clouds fall from chris’s mouth as he looks at you. his gaze is lazy as he drags it over your face, noting the redness of your tongue from the sucker he’d given you. a minute goes by and you start to squirm a little bit under his thoughtful blue eyes, about to take it back, but chris beats you to it.
“you ever smoke before?” he finally asks, to which you shake your head. another few seconds pass. “then no.”
your lips part at his response, mouth falling open a bit. you don’t know why, but you were kind of expecting him to give in. he must have seen it too, his mouth twitching up into a little smirk as you furrow your eyebrows, frowning.
chris suppresses a chuckle before he takes another long drag, waiting to speak again until he’s finished. “i don’t like to get pretty girls started on shit. should have lied,” he insists with a shrug of his shoulders, and your face drops even further knowing he would have said yes had you been smarter.
chris clicks his tongue at your expression, sighing. “fix your face and go back to that sucker, sweetheart, before i give you somethin’ to fuckin’ pout about.”
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©hanbinics
: ̗̀➛ requested by anon.
: ̗̀➛ divider by @/plutism.
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laneywrld · 5 months
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Oh Baby | Lewis Hamilton mini series
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part one.
word count: 7.7k
Warnings: smut, absolute filth. breeding kink
Lewis can't help but want to give his best friend everything she desires. she can have whatever she wants.
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You were Lewis' best friend; the world knew it. The world also saw that he admired you in a way he hadn't anyone else.
You'd been in Lewis' life since the two of you were literal babies. Your dad was best friends with Anthony, Lewis' father, so in a way, you two were destined to be the best of mates. 
Sometimes, Lewis wishes he had the chance to meet you organically, but as quickly as that thought flickers through his mind, it is pushed away just as fast.
He would've been alone as a kid if you had come later in his life. But still, meeting you later would've changed the trajectory of your guy's relationship. He wouldn't be stuck in the constant lock of just being your "best friend."
He would continue to stick out his role and push through his torture if it meant you keeping him around.
Since you were kids, you two have been joined at the hip. You were always there to defend him at school when the bullies got to him. You were always down to follow his dreams with him, even if it meant convincing your dad to let you ride with his family to watch him go-karting in the sweltering heat. You were always there. 
You still are, and maybe that's what's got his heart thrumming in his chest as he watches you dance with his brother Nicholas. The two of your hands are entwined as you sway to the music blasting from the speakers.  
As Nicholas twirls you around, your eyes meet Lewis for a brief second, and you smile at him before you are faced with his brother again. You joke with Nicholas as the two of you dance, your head constantly turning to check on Lewis.
He loves how his family is your own and vice versa. He loves how you treat his brother with the same tender love and care that he does. He can't help but to admire everything you do, even if it's just including his brother in something as simple as dancing.
You give him a curious look as you sway with Nicholas. He only grins in return, raising his glass at you. He sees your eyes fleet over his shoulder, and then your mouth pierces together in a knowing smile. You tilt your head to motion behind him, and when he turns to follow your orders, he sees Laura approaching. 
When he turns back to you, you are no longer dancing wildly with his brother but sitting comfortably with your friends, accepting the shot Miles pours for you. 
Lewis shakes his head, turning to greet Laura. He shouldn't feel disappointed and he shouldn't feel an emptiness wallow in his gut at the mere fact that he can't watch you sway in the night. His girlfriend, (if you could even call her that), was approaching and he should be glad to see her, but he can't help but to relish in the fact that'd he'd rather observe you from a distance than be in her presence.
"Hey baby!" she cheers. " I'm sorry I'm late. I got hung up at the agency."
"S'fine." He smiles, embracing the hug. "Let's grab you a drink and then settle in with everyone."
Meanwhile you are trying your best to tame your friends and their instantly sour moods. "C'mon y'all. Be nice to the girl."
"Nice?" Whitney scoffs. "I don't like that lil' girl."
"Whit." You scold, "She's not for us to like; as long as Lew likes her, we support them, yeah?" 
"Whatever," Miles piques up, "She not good enough for my guy?"
Always the wiser one, you shoot miles with a frown that shows your agreeance: "We can think that, but who are we to decide for him? Lew's not an idiot. When the time comes to make the right call, he'll make it, yeah?"
"Yeah." Daniel says, "But the only right call would be you."
You smack your teeth, reaching for another shot. "Here this nigga go on his shit again."
The table erupts in laughter just as Lewis approaches with Laura.
"Guys, you all remember Laura?"
"Do we?" Whit scoffs under her breath, downing a shot. The group breaks into fits of sniggering. You eye them with a look that screams, Act right! before turning to face Lewis and Laura in your seat.
"Laura, hi! girl!" You dragged.
Once again, you shoot your eyes across the group; one by one, they all push out fake ass hellos or a mumbled What's up.
Lew watches on as you turn to him, smiling. He can't help it as his own grows wider.
After the phony greeting, Lewis drags Laura to sit with him. The only open spot is the two-seater across from you. 
Conversation is ablaze in the midst of the circle. You lean forward chatting with Laura for a while since no one else bothered. Lewis has his arm thrown over her shoulder but he is watching you. Like always.
"Oh, so you planned this gathering?" Laura questions.
"Isn't it obvious?" You joke. "Lew could never." You motion to the lights and grand decor located around the yard.
"Oh, please." Lewis smacks his teeth.
"Admit it, Lew. It's my thing. Tell me I did good."
"You did great." He smirks, leaning back, his legs spread in a way that has you ready to drool.
You divert your eyes, sitting back in your own seat.
"Y/N's so domestic, it's giving wife."
You squint your eyes at Whit, giving her the ultimate stink face.
"You're always going to be the stepmum to us Laura. We can't separate mum and dad." Mori speaks up.
There was an ongoing joke in your friend group that had been circling for years. You and Lewis were Mum and Dad, you two paired together so well that it was like watching the perfect marriage. Your friends referred to you as each others "hubby" and "wifey".
Still, your friends were beginning to get out of pocket, and you turned to Lewis expecting him to put an end to their shenanigans like any good dad would. He only smiles at you his eyebrows wiggling in a playful manner.
You feel your cheeks burn as he doesn't deny it.
"She is quite domestic, would make the perfect wife." Miles piques up from beside Lewis.
It's a scheme that you two were left out of, a plan made to force you two to realize your feelings for each other.
His words trinkle into Lewis' mind. He's always thought you'd make the perfect wife. He's thought about marrying you seriously plenty of times. It's also been a childhood dream of his to make it official, especially after having your own wedding ceremony at the playground under the monkey bars, commemorated by strawberry ring-pops and sand confetti that had both of your parents grumbling as they scrubbed your scalps clean that night.
He's only ever told Miles this, but he wishes he never got seriously involved that first time at all. He thinks he did it out of pure irrationality. You had your first serious boyfriend, and Lewis thought well shit. To him it seemed as though you'd never be that into him. So he spent seven years on and off with a woman he was unsure about when all he really wanted was you. He's wasted so much time.
He thinks back to the times where distance sprouted between you two. Nicole didn't like how close the two of you were, and you respected it even if he didn't want you to. He feels a bit like a dickhead thinking of all the times he lied to his ex telling her you were nothing more than a friend to him. It was obviously a lie. If it wasn't a lie he wouldn't have spent majority of his relationship trying to make you realize what it was you were missing. Hint: it obviously didn't work, or you'd be the girl under his arm right now.
"I'll be back in a few," you announce, standing from your seat. I'm going to go do my rounds. Give Lew a break." Lewis' stare was beginning to get intense, you could feel your little resolve crumbling the longer her stared into your soul.
He watches you stroll over to his dad and your dad, stepping in between them and wrapping your arms around their waist. He can't read your lips but can tell that whatever you said had the two doubled over in laughter. You pat their backs, trekking over to your next target.
You're a little ways away, refilling wine glasses at the "mum table." His mum has you saying something that leads to you smooching the top of her head as you pass by. You set the bottle on the table before suspiciously eyeing your mother and opting to pull it to the other end. Lewis lets out a chuckle, watching your antics.
It'd been awkward silence covering the group like a blanket since you'd left. Everyone watching Lewis, watch you.
You had convinced Lew to buy this house, practically begged him all of those years ago. "Lew, the backyard," you had marveled, hands outstretched at your sides. "Imagine hosting out here." You had gone on a rant, dragging him across each area of the yard and throwing out ideas for gatherings that didn't even exist.
He closed the deal that same day. He was glad he listened to you as he watched you light some sparklers for the group of kids. He watches you crouch down to his nephew's level, pressing him against your front as you direct the sparkler into his hand. 
He couldn't see your face but could tell you were muttering words of encouragement into his ear. 
You stand with a proud grin when he twirls the stick around confidently. 
You turn as a small child tugs on your dress, "I'm thirsty, Auntie y/n/n."
You coo, picking up your friend's child. "Hi, mama! let's fix that for you." You pop her onto your hip, waltzing into the house from the open patio doors. She runs out moments later, a juice box snug in her hands. You follow after, arms full of the very same juice.
You crouch down as the children huddle around you. You poke each straw through the hole before passing them out one by one.
"Look at Mama Bear." Whit laughs as her eyes follow Lewis' line of sight. He is watching you with a smile and that classic sparkle in his eye that he always seems to have when it comes to you.
"She'd make a great mum, huh?" Lewis rasps out. 
You're back at the fire pit before you know it.
"Yeah, Mori, you should totally let me kidnap your child next weekend."
"Have her girl, she's all yours." She scoffs, "badass little girl."
The group laughs, but Lewis can't help but notice the gloom flash over your face before it quickly washes away.
He knows about your desire to have a family. He remembers how you opened up to him about it after your last relationship ended, and you took it worse than you ever had before.
He remembers that day like it was yesterday.
You were a drunken, blubbering mess, sitting on his couch with puffy eyes and a blotchy face. "Ugh!" you groaned, reaching for the bottle to pour yourself another glass. He beats you to it, pulling it away and setting it down on the table at the end of the couch.
"Hey," he coos, his hand pulling you into his side as your lip wobbles. You can't help the outburst of tears for what feels like the 100th time.
"Let's talk about it, yeah? That might help a bit."
You had been friends for so long, and not once had he seen you this distraught. In fact, you were the one comforting him most of the time.
"I hate him," you whined, reaching up to cover your face. He got me over here looking stupid."
"Hey," he pulls your hand down, still holding you against him, just holding your hand down at your side as well. "Don't be embarrassed for feeling, ain't that what you tell me?"
"Yeah," you shudder.
"Now, talk to me."
"I wanted kids. I don't think i'm that hurt about him you know?" you don't give him time to answer, "I just feel like I'm not meant to be with someone, like love is not for me. Sometimes it seems like everyone has a person out there for them but me. I want a family of my own. I love my family and yours, but it's different." you cry harder then.
"I want a human to love unconditionally, I want babies, and I want to be a mom; I would make a great mumma."
"You would." He hums, his free hand coming up to wipe your face. You pull away turning to face him, your legs are crossed in front of you and he reaches forward grasping both of your hands in his. 
He has one leg propped under the other, and his body is turned to face you. The way he's looking at you makes you want to break down into another fit of tears. No one pays attention to you as much as Lewis.
"Is there something wrong with me?" You ask, and you sound so broken that Lewis is fighting off tears of his own.
"You're perfect." He assures, and his hold on your hands grows tighter. "There's someone out there who loves you whole. Through and through, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with you, just the wrong people you've come across. You're going to get all that you want one day. He was an idiot anyway. What happened anyway, huh? What made him-."
"I left him." you interrupted, "which is crazy that i'm crying over him this bad but I could feel a disconnect between us, we were too different, didn't have the same end goal."
"You know what's beautiful about this?"
You look up to him with a baffled expression to say what the actual fuck is beautiful about being an emotional mess. He chuckles, swiping one hand against your wet cheek, where he settles his palm to cup your face. 
"One day, when you get what you desire, you're going to appreciate it a whole lot more because of how much you had to go through to get it."
And if Lewis wasn't a scary idiot, he swore he'd given you a kid right there and then, hell, however many you wanted. He's always had a soft spot for you, giving you anything you could have remotely even thought about wanting. You mention wanting to visit Brazil, bam, you're on his private jet whisked away, you want a yard to throw family gatherings, the deed is signed. You complain about wanting specific cupcakes from your favorite bakery, he was out of town but it was nothing to have his assistant travel across town to place them at your door. The point is, he'd give you anything in a second. He's good for it and he'd give you his baby if you really truly wanted.
You look up to Lewis the same memory flowing through both of your minds, he shoots you a tiny smile, raising his glass in your direction. You return his expression sipping from your freshly filled wine glass. 
Your smile blows him away; he can never control the way his heart lurches; you'd think after years and years, your charm would lose its effect on him, but somehow, they grow stronger and stronger as each day passes by.
He doesn't know how long his group of friends sit around the fire pit laughing and chattering along (you including Laura every chance you get, seeing as your other friends seem to have forgotten she exists.) Before he knows it his father is approaching. "Son, there's a million sleeping kids all over your house, I think that's our queue to pack it up."
At that announcement you guys' friends begin to pack themselves up. Lewis says his goodbyes. The group sniggers as Anthony shoots a "Nice meeting you Lauren."
"He called me Lauren," she pouts, "and I've met him before."
"Don't pay it any mind," you speak up balancing an armful of empty glasses, "he's got a bad memory."
You scold your friends, shooing them off as Lewis apologizes to Lauren, Laura.
After a while the house is empty and you say the goodbyes in place of Lewis. As you load the dishwasher you see them bicker back and forth through the large window. 
You close the door, pressing start, deciding to stop evading their private conversation. You connect to Lewis' speaker, soft melodies bleeding through the house as you go room to room, collecting any foreign object that doesn't belong. You sit with Roscoe for a while after refilling his bowl, giving him kisses and rubs until his body vibrates with snores and then you are up and at it again finding anything to tidy.
You sing quietly to yourself you huff wiping the imaginary dust onto your dress. Just as you're going to sneak from the home, Lewis' voice halts you in your tracks.
"You're leaving?" His eyes are furrowed, and his face is scrunched up.
"I- uh yeah, I didn't know how long the two of you were going to be."
"You're not staying the night?"
Your eyes flicker between Lewis and Laura, "Um, no." you chuckle hoping he'd catch the hint.
As much as you loved Lewis and spending time with him, that love didn't cover listening to him fuck the brains out of his current fling.
"She's not staying," Lewis speaks up.
You are still frozen by the door, your hand holding onto the handle. You peek at Laura, her face covered in disdain.
Your mouth drops open and then closed, trying to figure out the words to articulate your desire to leave in order to avoid whatever weird tension is brewing.
"Bye, Lewis." Laura bites, her long legs striding past you quickly. You move to the side, and she slips through the door without saying so much as a word to you.
"Ooh," you whistle, watching as the door frame rattles from the intensity of the close.
"What's her problem?"
"Your friends are bitches Lew." He mocks in a whiny voice.
You laugh, clutching your chest, "They're a bit rude." 
"Yeah," he sighs.
"For good cause," you continue.
"Yeah."
"I mean, I don't like the girl either, but as long as you don't mind what she did then-."
"You staying." Lewis interrupts. He really didn't feel like talking about Laura, especially since he was alone in your presence for the first time today; it was all he wanted for his birthday.
It'd been three weeks since he last saw you, and while the two of you talked on the phone and texted every single day, it'd never compare to actually being in your space. 
You groan as he puckers out his bottom lip, giving you his signature puppy dog eyes that always seem to convince you to do whatever he's asking for.
"Only because it's your birthday, and these heels hurt my feet so much, I don't really think I can drive."
"Oh please," Lewis laughs, "don't act like you don't wanna spend time with me. Excuses, excuses, excuses."
You waddle over to him, grasping onto his waiting arm as you bend at your knees to free your aching feet from said heels.
He takes the shoes from your hand, leading you up the stairs. 
As the two of you approach his bedroom, you feel your excitement boil over.
When he opens the door, you speak up, "I figured what'd be a good gift for someone who literally has enough money to buy whatever he wanted. Then I remembered how much you miss home while you're away and came to the conclusion that money could never bring that kind of comfort."
Lewis sniffles as he looks at the array of gifts spread over his bed. 
There is a stuffed Roscoe and Coco, a scrapbook that you'd dug into the archives to fill, letters from his family, your family, your friends, and an array of letters from you. Flowers, because to you, he deserved his more than anyone walking. You'd recreated his favorite ever birthday gift to him, a knit cheetah that you had your grandma help crochet with you for weeks before his seventh birthday. It's safe to say the OG had gone through a lot over the years. And finally, his first helmet from his carting career. He remembers his parents not being able to afford his helmet after buying him a game console for his birthday.
He remembers how upset he was but understanding of his parent's situation. He also remembers you leaving his party that night, face set in as much determination as it could be for a kid. The next day, you popped up with your dad shoving a brand new helmet adorned in a purple sticky bow into his arms. It'd been so many years since he'd last seen the helmet; as a teen, he'd gotten rid of so many things he considered to be junk, the helmet being one. But the older he got, the more he realized just how sentimental stuff like that was.
"You don't understand how hard I had to search through my Granny's attic for that. She always figured you'd want that back one day, pulled it right out of your yard sale that day."
Off to the side were stacked shoe boxes, a box from his jeweler, and a few designer bags.
He throws his arms over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest; he nestles his head atop of yours before he cranes to press multiple kisses to your hairline. "You're my favorite person in the whole world, know that, right?" He rasps.
"You wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in closer. "I love you Lew, happy birthday. You deserve it all."
You don't know how long the two of you stand their wrapped in each other's embrace before you part. 
"You can shower in here; I'll hop in the guest."
"Unzip me?"
You turn giving him your back to face, you feel his hand reach up to gently swipe your hair over your shoulder, you shiver as his finger tips glide against the skin of your neck.
"I'm gonna unclip your necklace first," he announces, and his voice is raspier than usual. He gulps as he pinches at the golden clasp, reaching one hand around your front to catch the dainty piece of jewelry.
He places it into you waiting palm, and feels his hands get clammy as he holds onto your hip for leverage. Holding you into place as his other hand glides the zipper down your back. His mouth waters and his heart hammers at the sight of your glowy skin being reveled to him.
You hold the dress up at the front, staring at him from the mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and there is such a charged tension lingering between the two of you. There are no words spoken as the two of you revel in each others presence. Both of his hands are now on your hips as you fell yourself subtly lean back into him. His chains cool your back as you sink into him. 
You smile at him through the mirror, "I really did miss you, but I have to shower. I'm sweaty, and I've been chasing kids around all day."
He chuckles, nudging you away but not before leaning over your shoulder, craning his neck in order to place a lingering kiss on your cheek that is almost too close to the corner of your mouth.
"Go shower, stinky."
You roll your eyes, treading into the bathroom and closing the door. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding.
Fuck, it was so challenging yet so exhilarating being in Lew's presence when all you want to do is strip him bare and have your way with him.
You put those thoughts aside and turned on the shower.
When you're clean and dry, you exit the bathroom in your robe (Lewis always keeps an extra for you), where you see Lewis sprawled across the bed, clad only in a pair of boxers. He watches you as you stride past, his head lies against the bed turning to follow your movements. He watches you disappear into his closet and exit, covered in his Mercedes t-shirt that falls down your thighs.
He lulls away the inappropriate images flowing through his mind and instead focuses on the fact that you're wearing his shirt to bed rather than any selection of your clothing piled in his dressers or hanging in your section of his closet.
He makes no attempt to move as you crawl up the bed towards him.
The scene is an absolute vision; he feels blood rush to his member, and he has to use all of his willpower not to let out the lewd groan he's containing.
You only smile at him, and you look so fucking beautiful and innocent he swears if you stare at him for any longer, he'd say fuck it all and pull you down underneath him.
He starts a mental countdown, but before he reaches one, you are flipping onto your back, his arm serving as a pillow as you fit comfortably against his side.
You turn your head to the right, seeing the bottle of liquor in his hand. 
"Give me that." He passes it over, his lips turned up in a smirk.
You lift your head, taking a good bit down your throat before passing it back; he does the same.
"I've got to post you for your birthday!" You gasp excitedly. You two joke around as you upload to your pages.
y/u/n
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y/u/n my favorite holiday, happy birthday lewlew, i love you to the moon and back, although you love to move through life fast I am always happy to spend slow days like this together with you cheetah, thank you for the lifelong memories and for sticking by me, i love you like no other <3
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whitwhit mum and dad ❤️ happy birthday pops
fencer Petition to make today a national holiday.
lewishamiton I love you more than life bunny, Thank you for today it was everything I needed.
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton Another one 🎂 Always a blast spending time with the people I love. Blessed to see another year surrounded by those I love. Special shoutout to bunny for the impromptu birthday celebration, every year that passes I am reminded of how we've gone through life together, always. Can't wait to spend many more years surrounded by love and happiness, thank you for the birthday wishes.
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user the way his post is full of him and y/n as kids. they really grew with each other 🥹
y/u/n cakes and candles my guy i luv uuuu
morismith +1 dad 🥳 child of a happy and healthy marriage
You two laugh as you scroll through your friends' comments. Somewhere along the line of you two passing the bottle back and forth, you began your own game of twenty-one questions, extra juicy, seeing as you two already knew damn near everything about the other.
"Hmmm!" you light up, "take a shot, or tell me why Nicki called you a weird little guy." 
Lewis smacks his teeth but breaks into a fit of laughter as you turn over, propping your chin up against his arm. Your feet kick back and forth as you stare into him.
"You're messy." He declares, downing another shot.
You groan, reaching over his bare body to take the bottle. "And you're no fun."
"What's one thing you've never told anyone, including me? I mean deepest, darkest secret."
You hum again, allowing Lewis to reposition the two of you. Now he is rested against the headboard, and your head rests on his lap. You let out a gentle moan when his fingers begin to rub against your scalp—his member twitches in his boxers.
"Answer the question." He demands his hands, pushing your head forward slightly to avoid the feel of his growing penis.
Your eyes bore into his, and he could see you fighting to decide whether to tell him or not. He almost tells you to take your shot until the words tumble from your plush lips.
"I used to have the biggest crush on you for the longest time, like probably was in love with you." You admit. Your eyes never leave his and it has his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He feels many questions running through his mind and they want to tumble out like an avalanche but like the relaxed person he is, he plays it cool.
"yeah, and what happened to these feelings, bunny?"
You smile at the nickname, rolling your eyes as you scoff. Lewis always picked at your cute persona as a kid, calling you as sweet and timid as a bunny, the bunny teeth also didn't help.
"You almost got married," you answered. "Realized that a childhood crush was just that, I let it simmer for so long that I made it seem realistic. When you started considering taking things further, I think I closed that book, locked that door, and threw away the key. It was easy when you left her and started running rabid like a fucking dog." you snort.
He laughs with you, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You calling me a slut?"
"If the condom fits." You tease. 
He rolls his eyes, but deep down inside, he is in shambles over the chance with you that he's missed. And he's regretting every decision that led up to you losing those feelings for him. "Next question."
You're staring deep into his soul with those sparkly eyes again and he can't help but return the same lovey eyes back. He always feels like this with you, wholly enamored and floored by anything that you do. 
You look so sweet and perfect that he doesn't expect the question that falls from your lovely mouth. "What's your favorite kink, like what's something that you do during sex that has you absolutely ready to go berserk?"
"You got a dirty mind, bunny." He teases, two fingers tapping against your temple.
"I've got a breeding kink, I think." He doesn't go into full detail, describing how he discovered it years ago when out shopping with you, and you passed through the baby aisle to shop for his newborn niece at the time. He doesn't describe how his pants tightened at the sight of you holding up cute little onesies or how his mind wandered to you laying spread out in his bed, being pumped full of his cum and loving it, begging for it. He doesn't tell you how he came the hardest he'd ever come in his life that night in his shower, imagining you plump with his child and a bright smile on your lips.
"Elaborate." There is a glint in your eyes as you observe him that urges him to finish his thoughts.
"It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you. You love someone so much that you want them to swell up with what is yours. Just fucking the cum back into them every time it slips out, one goal. Give someone my babies."
As he talks, his own words excite him; you can feel it, and you say nothing. The air surrounding you two is charged with such a lewd and sensual energy.
You throb between your thighs as he speaks to you, and his voice is getting deeper and deeper. He is hot and hard against your cheek; you stare up at him, your eyes leaving his own to trail the way his lips move to the way his jaw clenches, to the way his throat bobs all the way to his tatted, glowing chest. His words are getting to you. It's no secret that you, too, had a breeding kink, but hearing him say the words you wished to hear spoken to you in the midst of passion made you shoot into action. You are on his lap before you know it, mouth mushing against his in an instant.
He doesn't hesitate to return the favor; he separates your lips, gliding his tongue into your mouth, licking you open. You moan into his mouth, pressing yourself against him harder. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose, reaching one hand up to grasp the back of your neck and the other on your ass, pushing you impossibly closer to him.
You rock your hips against him, grinding down over him; he lets out a raspy groan, pulling away from your lips, his head falling to watch where your bodies connect; he lets out a moan as his grey briefs darken in color. You continue to glide back and forth over him
You swear you hear him whimper as you lift from his lap. He reaches to pull you back, but you are too fast; kneeling between his spread legs, the sight alone has him letting out another drawn-out whine. Your hand creeps up, rubbing him through the material. You were such a fucking vixen it was driving him mad. His head falls back against the headboard, and his eyes squeeze shut. You're barely doing anything to him, and it feels better than anything he's ever experienced, and he can only equate it to it being you.
You finally free him from his confines, and his head drops down to view you, and his jaw falls slack.
You jerk him up and down, your thumb swiping over the slit at the head of his perfect cock. You moan at the sight, and he twitches. You kiss at the top, staring at him through your lashes, and he swears he almost burst right then and there. Your lips are shiny with spit and you're practically drooling over him. As you place kisses up and down his shaft. You finally slip him into your mouth humming as you taste him. It has his legs spasming making you jostle a little.
You pop him from your mouth, giving him a cute smile that has him throwing his head back. She's going to fucking kill me.
You're moaning over him, driving him absolutely fucking insane. Lewis watches you through clouded eyes, his hand traveling to your hair. He pushes you lower and lower until you're shoving all of him down your throat, and then he pulls you off for air. You smile up at him going down again, and he lets out the nastiest moan you've ever heard.
"So fucking greedy for my dick." You'd never heard him speak like this, and it was scrambling your brain and your insides. "Mhmm," you moan over him. He holds onto your hair with his left hand, his right hand trailing to pull up the shirt that adorns your beautiful body. The higher he raises the shirt, the more unstable he becomes; the black panties cover barely anything, and when he continues to glide his hand up your back, your breasts hang loosely. He fondled them in his hand tweaking your nipple.
He tenses up, watching you take him down your throat like a champ, "fuuckk." 
He pulls you up for the last time, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He thrust up into nothing. His tongue finds it's way into your mouth and moves along with you in the most sensual kiss you'd ever gotten in your life.
"Lew." you whine, and it has him tensing again. This was better than he'd imagined. For years for his entire life he'd pictured this moment, played it out in a million different scenarios and they don't even measure up to this.
He was harder than he'd ever been and ready to finish at the mere sight of you looking up at him with his cock stuffed in your mouth.
"I can't- I won't last-" He is breathless, and his chest is falling up and down harshly. He looks so perfect, face tinted red and lips red and plump.
"Fuck me then," you order, and it flips a switch in him.
He'd dreamed of this moment, and he would be damned if he let his mind fuck this up for him. He pulls the large shirt from your frame and flips you over, laying you gently on your back. He hikes your legs up, spreading them open and pressing them down. Your knees touch the bed flat at your sides, and you mewl as his tongue flatly glides against your core.
You shiver and shake as he sucks you up. You can't stop squirming as he literally eats you. You moan his name over and over, hands coming down to clutch his curls. He moans against your core, pressing you down harder. You quiver in his hold, and you can feel that ball inside you, ready to burst. "Come for me, baby, let it out." He urges kissing your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, and that's when it happens.
The best orgasm you've had in your life. He licks you through it before sitting up on his knees. He still has you spread open at his mercy, and the sight below him has him stroking himself above you.
"So fucking pretty." he rasps, "ready for me?"
You nod, so fucked out that words seem impossible to you.
He chuckles, his hand coming up to hold you open as his other directs his hard dick to your hole; he pushes the head in at first, hissing as you suck him in. "Mhhm," he moans, "want me so bad, huh?"
You mewl, trying to push your body up to push him in.
"Aht, aht." he pushes his hand against you harder. "Let me take my time, make it right for us, yeah. Been wanting this forever."
His words make you gush more and more; you'd never imagine that Lewis, of all people, was this vocal during sex.
"He lets go of himself, both hands now gripping your thighs that are still burning against your chest. He stares deep into your soul as he pushes himself in an inch just to ease out just as slowly.
"Gotta stretch this pretty pussy out first, huh? So fucking tight." he coos.
Your eyes fall closed, your mouth going slack as he slides in again. "It's your dick, baby. All yours."
"C'mon bunny, wanna see your eyes, wanna watch you take me." You open your eyes breaths leaving you as little hitches as he finally fills you up.
"He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes watching where the two of you connect. "Fits so good," he groans, "made jus' for me."
You only mewl and clench the sheets.
"So pretty," he drops your legs, propping himself up on an elbow; his weight covers you like a security blanket. "Mhmm." he moans, sliding in and out of you. Your walls were suffocating him, sucking him in and trying to keep him in place. His face is scrunched up in pure pleasure as he succumbs to your velvety walls. So fucking warm and wet.
"Love this pussy." he groans before his mouth is back on yours. 
"Say it's mine," he orders pulling back, he is towering over you again, one hand clutching your face to watch him watch you.
You only moan, equating his words to being in the moment even though they have your stomach doing flips.
"Say it's mine, baby, and I'll give you what you want." 
It's like he hit a switch in you, brought out a side of you that you've never been able to release.
"It's yours," you coo, "all yours, only yours."
His eyes shine at your words, pressing a quick peck to your lips. 
"Nobody can give it to you like me, they don't deserve it, been so good to you. Hmm. Can give you everything you want."
One hand travels down to your stomach, where he presses down, "Feel me in there?"
"yes." you gasp, eyes rolling back; the sex is no longer slow and sensual. He is pounding into you so hard that your body lurches up and down the bed, and your breast bounces with every thrust. 
Lewis Hamilton is a dirty man, you conclude watching his lips fall open from the dirty smirk he'd had it in. 
"Got something else to put in there." You clench around him tighter curses falling from his mouth as he stills inside of you.
You know he is only in the moment, this whole debacle started because of his admission of a praise kink, you know he's playing along with yours, he wants to get you there in the same way you want to get him there so you play along.
"I want it." you whine, "want it all."
Lewis thought it was impossible for him to get any hornier, but once again, you've proven him wrong.
"Want you to fill me up, want to be full of you." You play on his words from earlier. "Want all of you."
He moans once again, spreading you open. He is plowing into you. Loud grunts left his throat as he digs deeper and deeper into you. He can feel every crevice of your flesh as you swallow him.
"Gonna give you what you want, make you big and full, have you carrying my babies. Going to have what you always wanted, love."
Your eyes fall shut at his words in utter bliss.
He lays on top of you, the burn of your thighs spreading. His hands travel to your own, holding them on either side of your head. His head is nestled between the crook of your neck; he's sucking and licking along your neck. You feel him everywhere.
"mmph," you moan as he reaches and punches against your sweet spot over and over. 
Lewis is so fucked out in a loving haze that he can't control the words tumbling from his lips onto your skin.
"Wanted this forever, so long." He whimpers, "Feel so good, only wanna feel you. Only wanted you."
You free one hand from his hold wrapping it around to rub at the curls at the nape of his neck. You want him to keep talking, keep feeding you the words you've waited your whole life for him to say. "I can give you everything you want, baby."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you can't tell if it's from the pleasure he's giving you or the words he's dribbling out.
"Taking me so well, fuck!" he sits up on his knees again, turning you over without pulling out of you; you're on all fours as he plows into you from behind. 
"So mean, making me wait so long, letting me be with the wrong woman, should've been you." You clench around him eyes squeezing shut, you shouldn't enjoy these words as much as you do but you can't help it.
"Wanted it to be you, would've had our family by now, so many kids, so happy." You're literally shaking, the fire growing inside of you, making it impossible to ward off your second orgasm. 
"Been looking for you in all these women, never were you, never could be. Fucking couldn't get hard without imagining your face. Always had to be you." He sounds so vulnerable and open behind you. You want to see his face so badly, and you want to watch him as he admits what you've always desired.
Like he read your mind, he flips you over again, nestling between your legs and pushing himself in again with a hiss, "Gotta see your face when you come, love."
You're on top of him, relishing in the way he looks up at you. Your thighs are placed on either side of him lifting over and over as he glides in and out of you.
He looks so beautiful, you think even if he is spitting out the most wild and lewd words you've ever had spoken to you. "Gonna empty this dick in you baby, give you my baby. Make you mine, all mine." He growls.
"Could've had this all along if you said something sooner, bunny. Would have had you feeling like this all of the time."
His hands are on your waist, lifting you up and down over him. You fall forward one hand holding you up and the other reaching down to cup his jaw. You press your lips over his, breathless pants traveling from one mouth to the other. The eye contact is intense as you stare each other down. His eyes literally sparkle as he fuck up into you, his mouth dropped open. You kiss him one last time before sitting up again and setting your own pace, "Fuck Lew, you feel so good."
You're bouncing on him at a much slower pace as his eyes fall closed and his grip tightens on your flesh.
You're not responsible for what you say when you cum, it's common knowledge, which is why when Lewis flips you over and barrels into you at a much softer pace you let his words carry no penalty, albeit the way they make your eyes water, albeit the way you return them truthfully.
It's so overwhelming you can't help the way the tears flow from your eyes and slide onto the sheets. He's cumming in spurts, hot and gooey, filling you to the brim. Lewis has never come so much. He lets out an array of grunts and moans. He's so out of it that he lets his words tumble out without a care in the world, and he means them wholly. He's fucking his cum into you, pushing it back in with his dick as you quiver around him. 
"Love you, fuck, I fucking love you."
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goldenstring6123 · 2 months
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Lnds: Flowers for the man
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Author's note: Requested by Anon! this was interesting to write as I have no idea how to make it different for each character, hehe. I did my best though and I hope you guys like it! Warning: Lengthy read! 5k words! reader is not the mc but works as a hunter (in Xavier's part)
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ZAYNE: Blue roses Mystery, aspiration & admiration
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The city park was as beautiful as ever, clean and quiet, with only a few people walking about and doing their business. It was Monday, after all, and most people were at work. Meanwhile, you were able to snag a day off, which was pretty rare. 
It was too much of a nice day to spend alone, and luckily, a particular surgeon was also on his day off. 
You took a little bit more time walking towards your designated meeting area, enjoying the cool spring breeze as it brushed your hair from your shoulders. Off into the distance, you could see that tall silhouette standing by, looking at his phone, before pressing it against his ear. 
With a much quicker pace, you came closer. 
"Yvonne, it's my day off." Zayne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose shortly after. "Yes, do tell him I'd appreciate it if he respected my decision," he paused. "Yes, I informed him, and I finished all my paperwork before I left last night."
From the tone of his voice, it seemed like Zayne was slowly transitioning into a sour mood. You looked around, almost instinctively looking for something to cheer him up.
Maybe there's a stall somewhere offering some sweet treats?
There were none in the vicinity. Except for the quaint flower store. Can flowers cheer up Dr. Zayne? It can certainly keep him company in the office until it wilts. You looked for a flower that suited the doctor. Perched atop a wooden display of colorful flora, hyacinths, cacti, snake plants, and… blue roses? That's unique! 
You made an effort to tiptoe to the inside of the store, keeping your eyes on Zayne, who failed to notice your presence and was still on his phone call, his sour mood amplifying his annoyance. 
The bell by the door emitted a wonderful chime to your ears, and from the counter emerged a beautiful lady wearing a cherry-colored apron. She smiled at the sight of you approaching.
"Hello, ma'am, how much for the blue flower in front?" you asked.  She named her price and took one out of the flower fridge, swiftly and professionally folding some colorful paper to wrap it around with. She finished off with the golden ribbon, tying the whole thing together. 
You peek out through the front window. Perfect timing! Zayne was no longer on his phone. His back was turned towards you, and you couldn't help but admire the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his waist in his dress shirt. 
In order to surprise him, you hurriedly ran to bury your face in the crook of his back. As expected, he flinched at the sensation before recognizing an arm that wrapped around his waist. "You're here." He was trying to turn around to look at you, but you stuck to his back like a mouse stuck to a glue trap. 
"Close your eyes first, Zayne," you chirped. He stopped moving.
"Is this one of your pranks again?"
"Oh, just do it! C'mon, please?" You cooed at him and buried your nose against his back once more, taking a sniff at the faint detergent scent. You could see his elbows shift and his face rise, lightly covering his eyes.  You let go and get on your knees as if you're proposing. With the singular blue rose raised up to him, you tell him to open his eyes. "You can look now, Dr. Zayne."
He slowly opened his eyes, seeing that you were not in his line of sight. He looked back and then forward again before looking down. Zayne's eyes were devoid of thought before slowly, a sheen of light coated his eyes, and the image of you kneeling and offering him a blue rose finally sank in. 
At that moment, his heart stopped beating, and his mind conjured up only a single thought. This woman enamors me beyond human comprehension. The park was quiet, with no one in sight—only the two of you on the trail, sandwiched by beautiful pink and green trees. Faintly, he could hear church bells ringing in the distance. 
"A blue rose for the coolest surgeon in Akso Hospital," you grinned. You got up and waited for him to take the rose; he did, but before you let him say anything, you pulled him by his collar and roughly placed a quick kiss before pulling an inch away and whispering, "And a devoted lover to the luckiest girl in Linkon City."
Everything became much more evident at that instant. Any doubts Zayne has on his mind, any insecurities, or any worries about the future. Everything dissipated like snow on a sunny day. Zayne's smile appeared as you pulled away. His gaze was turning softer, and his cheeks showed that tinted pinkish hue you always adored. 
The sight of his annoyed face became a distant memory. "Thank you; I'll put this on the vase on my desk in the hospital." Zayne placed a kiss on your forehead.
"You're welcome! You do your best to make my day, so I want to do so as well." Your fingers intertwined as you and your partner began to walk to wherever you were going. 
"You always make my day; I've told you that countless times." 
"Yeah, but a while ago, you looked like you were having a bad time with that phone call."
Both of you stopped in your tracks, and you barely saw his face in surprise. "You saw that? I apologize, that was…"
"There's nothing wrong about it, Zayne."
He lets out a sigh before reaching out for your palm. Without a word exchanged between you, his hands made gestures atop your palm, encompassing it with a cool breeze and glowing blue hue. For a brief moment, your palm turned icy cold until it lifted slightly. The image of a small blue, icy ring appeared on your palm. It had a small, beautiful flower as its focal point, and you couldn't help but marvel at its beauty. 
"This is my gift for the flower." He smiled, picking the ring up and sliding it onto your middle finger. 
"Dr. Zayne, are you proposing to me?!" you jokingly asked, exaggerating your tone to not make him feel pressured. 
He chuckled at your wide-eyed expression. "Not yet, but maybe in the near future," he mumbled. "You deserve a better ring than the one I made."
"Oh, so romantic, you're going to make me have heart problems."
"I certainly hope not." Zayne let out a hearty laugh at your joke. 
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XAVIER: Daisies Innocence, New beginnings and cheerfulness
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"Xavier?" you called out in the forest. Only the birds responded to your call. "Xavier, Nero said he was sorry!" you added.
Still, there no response. 
This wouldn't have happened had Nero been more careful.
It was summer, and unfortunately, the wanderers were at their peak, disturbing more provincial areas than usual. You and Xavier had to be dispatched on opposite sides of the city, reducing your time together. It had been exactly a month and a half since you and Xavier met face-to-face, and tomorrow should be the only time when you have matching leaves.
If only Nero didn't screw up the day-off schedule he submitted to Jenna. 
Well, you can understand Xavier's frustrations, and quite honestly, you predicted that he would at least complain, but to see him walk out? It was something.
The forest you were in was no stranger to you. This was the small buffer space between the city and the field where you and Xavier liked to hang out. It was once a decrepit land devoid of flora and fauna, yet it developed and managed to change into a beautiful flower field over time.  On the horizon, you can see that area; with it, you can see Xavier standing and staring at the blue sky.
Your heart ached at the sight. He looked lonely. 
You took a step closer, stepping on the patches of grass that led to his spot. It had been a while since you visited the field, and you couldn't help but reminisce about the calm mornings you'd spent with him here.  Xavier heard your footsteps and felt your presence but ultimately chose to stay in the same position, not sparing you a glance. After all, the look of silent anger still lingered on his face. Turning your back to him as well, you squat down to your knees, hugging them while fiddling with a white, singular daisy near your shoes. 
"Nero says he's sorry," you stated matter-of-factly.
"Of course he would," Xavier replied. He let out a sigh, easing out the tension in his back and shoulders. "I just… I was looking forward to our day off." He can't help but rub the back of his neck, absorbing the fact that he walked out rudely on his co-worker.
"I was too, Xavier," you replied back.   Silence.
"I missed you a lot." You picked the daisy flower and watched as one tiny petal fell onto the grass; it looked like a small cloud falling gently. "I know we call and text every day, but that isn't enough for me either, so I get why you're mad." Gentle, comforting words escaped your lips.
"I'm sorry you had to see me walk out," he whispered.
"There's nothing to be sorry about."
Another minute of silence; this time, something was yearning to be said, not by you but by Xavier.
"Things are dangerous for us hunters," Xavier began. "You never really know when you or someone else can die at the hands of wanderers." The image of the past flashed itself into his vision. A colleague is sitting up against a rock, bleeding and clutching the only picture he has of his wife and daughter. "And… it's frightening, even for me. I guess I'm lucky enough to work for the same company as you, but knowing what we need to go through daily, I just want to make the most of our time whenever possible." Because I don't want to regret not seeing you in case something happens.   His words didn't need a reply from you.    You twisted the flower's trunk, wrapping the stem's end towards the bottom of the flower. You weaved it together and slipped it on your finger. It nearly slid to the side because you made the loop too big. You took it off and knelt on the grass; hearing that crunch was satisfying. Xavier was still facing away from you even when you turned. 
You tugged on the hem of his shirt, and finally, he turned to you, looking down as you knelt on the grass on one knee. No words were exchanged between you at that moment; only the chirping of birds filled the silence in the air. Your hand gently took his own, and he stared promptly. 
The daisy looked even more beautiful the moment you slid it onto his ring finger. It looked bright and wonderful against his long and slender fingers. You kissed his hand gently,  like kissing an infant. Your lips brushed against his knuckles like silk gliding against his skin. 
You finally looked at him as well, and you could immediately catch the redness of his ears. "Cheer up, Xavier." You cooed at him. "There's no way of telling when we're going to last see each other, and hopefully we don't ever go through that." 
Xavier helped you get on your feet and took a small step closer to you. "So, let's spend every moment we can together, even just 30 minutes during our lunch times. Besides, we're just busy because it's the summer. Any other season, we're good to go."
"Yeah, you're right," he replied, intertwining your fingers together with ease. He wrapped his other hand around you and nudged you for a hug, which you happily gave him. Unknowingly, he looked at the hand with the flower ring, a smile creeping up his face. 
At that moment, all his anger had subsided, and the memory of you sliding on the ring was the only thought that occupied his head. Xavier likes giving you flowers, and you know he likes being given food, but this little, simple gift felt more special than anything else. 
His heart thumped against his chest very loudly, and you could only chuckle, finally clinging to his neck. You kissed his jaw and buried your face at the crook of his neck, letting out a breath you unconsciously held in. It was nice to know that Xavier was no longer angry. 
"I love you," you told the wind.
"I love you too." Xavier's embrace made your heart overflow with happiness, and even with that simple gesture, it was more than evident that you were captivated with each other in more ways than one. 
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RAFAYEL: Hydragreas Gratitude, understanding & heartfelt emotions
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'Do me a favor, please,' Thomas pleaded. 'Rafayel has been in a foul mood since yesterday, and I don't know why, but he has an upcoming exhibition next Tuesday. He says he doesn't want to come. It's really important and could cost him his career and mine.' 
Those were the poor words of Thomas, who called you yesterday at 12 in the morning. You can't remember exactly why Rafayel was in a bad mood, but you were certainly sure that you agreed to help everyone just so you could go back to sleep. 
You can't help but let out a sigh. It was already hard enough to ask Rafayel on a date with his moodiness, but you managed to get him to meet you at the park. He was against it at first, making excuses like he was out on a trip or doing a painting, but with a bit more perseverance, you managed to let him say yes.
Now, the next problem is: How do you cheer up a grumpy boyfriend?  A kiss wouldn't be enough, that's for sure. It's too early to coax him with special methods. He doesn't really like sweets, and he's super sensitive when he's mad; you can't make fun of him. 
Your boots clacked rhythmically on the pavement, your eyes wandering about for inspiration or a clue on how you could brighten Rafayel's day. What's something that can make him blush? That's certainly one way of getting rid of his anger. 
Something unexpected. Something you haven't really given to him yet. 
Something fragrant.
Colorful
Something from the shop directly beside you. "Bloomscape" is the small wooden signage displayed. A beautiful, tall plant crept up the brick corners of the single-floor structure. A stair-like display rack carried baskets of different green grasses and arranged bouquets. 
A light bulb popped over your head. 
You made your way inside the quaint shop. You explored your options, admiring the wonderful displays of the plants. The colors were so vibrant and beautiful, similar to the paints that Rafayel would use in his works.  There was one bouquet that caught your eye the most. It looked like an arrangement for a wedding, dawning a light blue hue mixed with white roses and round leaves. He would like this. You could imagine him smelling the thing. 
"I'll take one of those," fingers pointed at the arrangement. The lady nodded and took the best one off of the display, placing it in a paper bag for you. You hummed as you left the little shop, eager to show the flowers to your boyfriend. 
Rafayel sat on a lonesome bench hidden from the main pathway of the park. You've seen him once or twice there, so it wasn't really much of a surprise when he was there now. According to him, he liked that seat because it was under a tree and away from people. He could think and bask in silence at that particular spot. 
You lowered your stance as you came to approach him. Carefully avoiding the sticks to not make a sound. You placed the paper bag down on the ground and carefully snaked both of your arms around his waist. He flinched at an unexpected sensation, wanting to turn his head, but you didn't let him by lowering your head to his shoulders.
"Hello!" you chided. 
"Did you really have to sneak up on me like that?" Rafayel sounded a tad bit annoyed. 
"I do," you replied back. "Close your eyes." 
"Close my eyes? Why?" Rafayel raised an eyebrow. You can't help but intently stare at him. He stared back, the wrinkle on his eyebrows disappearing. "Alright, fine, but I'm leaving if there's anything that involves cats." Rafeyel closed his eyes.
"No peeking!" You hopped over the bench as you would over a barricade and took out the flower from the bag, immediately getting on your knees. You straightened your back and held the bouquet properly, stretching it closer to his face. 
"Open," you ordered. He squinted and looked down at the blue and white glow of the flowers before letting his eyes go wide. He blinks once and then repeatedly. His hands wrapped around my own, and he finally held onto it, somewhat perplexed. 
"Did you, did you just…" He scoffed, looking away before looking back at you with a betrayed face. "Did you just propose to me? Wasn't I the one who was supposed to do that? Are we switching gender roles now?" His expression was undoubtedly something, but you were 100% sure it was not anger. 
Not when his ears were as red as a tomato. Rafayel was simply bluffing. I guess this guy has a hard time saying thank you when he's flustered. 
"I would if I gave you a ring," you mumbled. You dusted off your knees and slipped both of your palms into his jaws, urging him to look up at me. Rafayel's eyes were bright underneath the dispersed light of the trees. "I heard from Thomas that you were in a bad mood, so I wanted to cheer you up."
"Thomas, that snitch." He pouted and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'll get back at him when I see him in his office!" 
"You can't blame a guy who wants you happy." I squish his cheeks and plant a kiss on his puckered lips. "He knows you were in a bad mood; cut him some slack." Rafayel's frown quickly dissipated into nothingness, and he voluntarily turned his head to the side and then pressed it against my stomach. 
Were you cheering him up? You honestly weren't so sure, but Rafayel looked like he needed that gift to brighten his day.
"I wanted to cheer you up in a new way, so I got you flowers. Do you like them? They're the prettiest in the whole shop." 
"Yes, they're very pretty," Rafayel mumbled again, his ears turning slightly pinkish. You were caught off guard when he turned his head up to look at you, again frowning. "But I'm more pretty than these flowers, right?" His eyes were staring deep into yours, impatiently waiting for that sweet yes from those lips. 
There it was—a perfect opportunity to coax him. "You can be if you give me a smile."
He looked at you like he was being deceived, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like he normally would. "So you're saying I'm ugly when I don't smile? That's a mean thing to say coming from my girlfriend!"
A breeze blew past you two, sweeping your soft hair to your cheeks. You laughed at your boyfriend's endearing childishness, recalling why you really love to poke fun at Rafayel sometimes. "You're the prettiest fish in the sea, Rafayel. The most wonderful flower in the garden, the cutest cat in Linkon City—"
"Cat?!"
You purposefully hook your index finger underneath his chin and say, "And the most handsome boyfriend of mine." Before letting him say anything, you took the opportunity to peck him on the lips to shut him up for the time being. You leaned back to study his oh-so-beautiful face. Off of a peck, he was already intoxicated. How adorable. "As of now, at least." You stuck your tongue out to mock him.
"I'll pretend that I didn't hear that." He wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you closer to his lap, finally kissing you deeper. "Thank you for the flowers; I appreciate it."
That's a job well done for you. You deserved a treat for making your boyfriend happy.
"Alright, now that you're no longer mad, let's go to a restaurant. They serve the best shrimp pasta and fermented wine." With an outstretched hand, you waited for him to take it. Rafayel chuckled and sniffed the bouquet, locking his fingers with yours and swaying it forward and backward.
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SYLUS: Black Dahlias Sadness and betrayal or Grace beneath pressure
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The warm evening breeze was a wonderful sensation against your chilly cheeks and nose. It had been a while since fall had started, and the city was basked in a warm hue of orange and yellow leaves.
You can't help but shiver in your scarf. Maybe you should've worn more layers. 
It was rare for Sylus to ask you to meet in broad daylight. Knowing him, he'd usually be at work during the afternoons and evenings, and he frequently worked in the N109 zone rather than in Linkon City. 
'I have some business in Linkon City today; let's meet in the afternoon.' 
"Wow, so you won't even ask if I'm free?"
'I know your schedule is free, sweetie; our calendars are synced.'
'Plus, you owe me another date for sleeping in on me last time.'
'hehe, alright. I'll meet you at the park. By the fountain? '
'by the fountain.'
It was rare to see the park so empty. Usually, at a time like this, the park should be filled with children running about with their pets and families running amok in the dull grassy field. 
There was a magazine stand at the corner where you and Sylus would meet. While you were a few meters away, you could see him reading a newspaper and conversing with the old stall owner, who was reading the same material. You can't hear their conversation, but Sylus was certainly not happy. 
You could recognize that frown anywhere, especially those knitted eyebrows. Uh-oh. 
It's been a while since you've last seen that face, and of all times, it's reappearing now. A moody syllable is someone who's a bit hard to cheer up, and you don't want to waste the evening trying to do so. What can you do to cheer him up?
A small wind chime caught your attention. You turned to your left and saw a cute but lonesome little flower shop and a couple exiting holding a bouquet of flowers. The arrangements were undoubtedly pretty, especially under the warm pixie lights, yet none of the flowers really suited Sylus. In fact, Sylus and Flowers really don't seem to belong with each other, but maybe that's why you were enticed to buy him one in the hopes of cheering up his mood. 
You entered the store, and the lady greeted you with a hello.
"Good evening. Do you have a flower that looks—?" Your thoughts wandered for a split second, reveling at the fact that you were unprepared for this conversation. "—cool?"
"Cool?" The flower lady tilted her head in confusion, much like yourself. "Like a cold flower? Or a blue-colored plant?"
"Oh, no, no." You scratched the back of your head and went a little closer. "A flower that suits an image of a cool, mysterious person." Unsure of how helpful that would be, you stared at the lady in anticipation, hoping that she would get what you meant.
"Hm, we have peonies." She gestured to various peonies of different colors, ranging from pink to a dark maroon shade. The dark-colored flower is certainly pretty, but it doesn't look suitable for Sylus. You shook your head.
"Anything else?"
"How about…" She disappeared into the back room and brought out a small bucket full of beautiful black flowers. "These? Black Dhalias; they're freshly delivered." You can't help but stare at the flowers. The image of the flowers on his nightside table popped into your head. It looked just about right. 
"I'll take four of these, please."
The lady arranged it for you beautifully and even gave you a discount. Before you left, she gave you a wave of goodbye. You were suddenly hit once more by the cold autumn air and the dimming lights of the sky. The lamps were now turned on, illuminating the park beautifully. 
You sneaked around the corner and saw Sylus gone, yet he was sitting on a bench, reading a different magazine. A pink magazine hat looks uncanny in his grasp. You tiptoed to the back of the bench and squeezed the flowers in between your thighs. You gently covered his eyes. 
"Hah, brave of you to attack me from behind, Sweetie." His voice let out a melodious chuckle at your actions. 
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting; I had to pick something up from nearby." You still kept your hands over his eyes. "It's my gift for you."
"Is it a gun? Did you manage to steal a gun from your company's armory and give it to me?"
"That would be a crime, Sylus, and no, it's not a gun; it's something you wouldn't receive from any other girl except for me. Take a guess."
Sylus was bemused by what you said. He's received many things in his life and is not short of a single object. His fingers closed the pink date spot magazine and chucked it to the side before crossing his legs.
"A kiss?"
"I give you that practically every day!"
"Is it another plushie?" "No..try again."
"Your Lingerie—"
"SYLUS!" you shrieked, stopping him from finishing his words. "You're bad at guessing; you know what? Just keep your eyes closed." You carefully peel your hands away from his eyes. Sylus didn't move an inch.
"Are they closed?"
"My eyes are perfectly closed. I can't see a thing, sweetie."
While he sat on the bench, you made your way around him and got on your knees. The bouquet rustled in your clasp, making Sylus shift slightly in his seat. You held the flowers up to him, and their wafting scent gave him a cue to open his eyes. 
"I got you flowers. As an apology for being late and sleeping on our last date," you let out a goofy grin while waiting for Sylus to grab the gift from your palms. He grabbed it and placed it in his own arms. 
For a minute, he stared at the flowers in disbelief. You were right: It was a gift he never received from any other girl. Sylus thought that the first and last time he would receive a flower was on his deathbed, which was practically never. Still, here he is, sitting in a park on a random evening, his lover overtaking him with a flower like she was about to ask for his hand in marriage. 
A genuinely baffling sight, even for the leader of Onychinus.
He was certainly the type to dislike flowers, especially the vibrant ones, but the black dahlias you gave him suits him well. The scene was also beautiful and would most definitely fit on the vase he has in his office.  Absent-mindedly, Sylus stood up, which caught you off guard. For the first time, you couldn't comprehend the expression on his face. He certainly wasn't angry, nor did he look disgusted, but he wasn't happy either. 
"I'm giving you five seconds to run, sweetie," he said. You froze at his words, bewildered. Was he not happy with the flowers?! Did he not like them?! 
"Five." He started counting.
It was like all hell broke loose at that instant. Before anything else could happen, you got up, disregarding the dirt on your knees, and ran towards the city. You dug your own grave when you gave him the flowers. With all the speed you can muster, you manage to get to the street where the city is. You crossed the road and turned back, seeing Sylus chasing you among the throngs of people. 
What the heck is wrong with him?! He doesn't seem particularly mad, but what did he really work up over the flowers?
You turned into an alleyway in between two random shops. Your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, and you just needed to stop for a bit. The brick wall of the store pressed against your coat, and puffs of smoke escaped from your mouth as you wheezed in silence. 
"Where is he?" you mumbled. You peeked out of the alley only to sense that ever-familiar, spine-chilling breeze when he teleported. In a blink of an eye, you were yanked deeper into the dim area, Sylus pushing you against the cold and damp wall. 
"I caught you," he stated, blocking any way for you to exit.
You balled your fist and aimed for his gut, lightly jabbing it. "What the heck?!" Relief washed over you like a tide when you saw the gentle smile on his face. The fear of his wrath disappeared rather quickly, which made your muscles relax. "I thought you were going to kill me!"
He kept his lips shut. Under the dark shadow of the alleyway, you could still see the vibrant red glow of his eyes. Quietly, you leaned forward, letting your chest press against his own, and your feet raised you the highest they could. He was a tall man, and it was hard to reach his lips, so with one hand, you yanked his turtleneck, and with your other hand, you wrapped it around his neck. 
He resisted first and let him laugh through his nose. Softly, your lips pressed against his own, and you patiently waited for him to return the gesture; he did, albeit rougher and hungrier. You didn't know how it happened, but the next moment, his tongue was inside your mouth, exploring every crevice and getting that sweet and flavorful taste like a deprived man. 
Your body burned at the sensation; erotic sounds were escaping from both of your lips. His hand rested on the dip of your back, holding you closer to him. To Sylus, you weighed nothing more than a weighted blanket; moreover, you were warm to the touch, which he found soothing.  "Why did you make me run?"
"Because I know you'll find a place to hide from me," Sylus said, tucking stray hair behind your ear. "And I get to kiss you out in public."
"You…know you could've just kissed me in the park, right?"
"So you want to let people see us all hot and bothered?" You could see his eyebrow arch. 
"Fair point. Kiss me again," you demanded. "I need compensation for that flower."
Sylus let out a laugh. "What kind of person demands compensation for a gift? You're certainly the only one who does that, sweetie." Again, he pushed himself closer to your face and pulled on your back. "But I'll happily oblige." 
Amidst the noise of the busy streets in autumn, hidden from the blaring lights of the vibrant city, you and Sylus remain hidden in your own little alleyway, holding each other like teenagers in love at the peak of their youth. 
'What a beautiful season,' you thought.    
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Author footnotes: I'm trying to go back to a story-telling format. It's been a while since I've done that! Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |
721 notes · View notes
youronlydarlin · 8 months
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warning: fluff for the soul, sweet Simon giving me cavities because of how much he loves you
Eeeeee, m' mind is being plagued by Simon "I love my partner, anybody else can go fuck themselves" Riley who's mean to everybody else except you.
M' talkin his mood sours evey second he's not with you, till it reaches the point where he looks like he was born with a scowl on his face. And if looks could kill then everyone would be six feet under with how Simon looks as if he's ready to rip and tear.
His hand gripping the plastic bag filled with the snacks you were craving for while the other is clenched. To others, it seems like he might be on his way to punch a guy so hard it'll knock all of his teeth out. But truth is he's jus' reminiscing over the feeling of your hand in his :(
But the moment he gets home that menacing aura jus' goes. Poof!
Loudly declaring that he is back home with your cravings. And of course, darling you, being the most caring partner in the world run to him. He's holding you up in an instant, pulling down his mask and kissing you so sweetly on the lips.
He can stay like this forever. But only if forever was spent with you :)
a/n: I NEED HIM. I kinda needed something like this at the moment 🥲, so forgive me for such an abrupt and short post. Remember that you are loved and cared for, darlings!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
2K notes · View notes
egcdeath · 5 months
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life's a beach
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pairing: patrick zweig x reader request: @diorrfairy: i can't stop thinking about patrick x reader who's an introvert, kinda shy but with a fiery temper just like him. and she knows it's better not to get involved with guys like him but she can't help it. and he's constantly teasing her trying to get on her nerves like … summary: a chain smoking tennis player disrupts your day on the beach and uproots your entire summer vacation. word count: 6.5k warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda… the reader folds like a paper airplane pretty quickly), smoking, no use of y/n, low speed police (pool security guard) chase, mentions of smoking, brief mention of alcohol, so much exposition, vague descriptions of sports, some kissing, patrick and reader are spoiled rich kids author’s note: this fic definitely got away from me, but i hope that you all enjoy it! also, i apologize in advance for any characterization issues, since i’ve only seen the movie once. with that being said, i’m still taking requests if you want to send me anything!
For all your life, the beach has been your happy place. The soothing, repetitive push and pull of the water and the endless crashing of the tide was a guaranteed way to make your loud mind quiet down. Next to the endless ocean, you were just a tiny little dot–not a girl who was a golf prodigy, or someone whose parents' financial power caused everyone around you to treat you like a delicate doll. In fact, that was part of the reason why your parents purchased the lot in the first place, as you insisted that the comfort of a semi-private beach was necessary for you to properly enjoy your vacation.
That was also what made your smoking companion on the beach all the more jarring.
You were fully reclined on a beach chair and deeply immersed in the novel in your hands when you first caught a whiff of the strong, putrid scent, which immediately left you annoyed. Turning your head to follow the scent, your face somehow fell further when it fell upon the culprit of the foul cigarette smell. The side profile of a man who was about your age, casually smoking as he stared out at the body of water across from you.
Perhaps you had become so immersed in your book that you’d failed to realize that only a few steps away from you, someone new had joined you on the sand. After all, when you sat down just an hour ago, you were completely alone. Somehow, that managed to make your mood sour even more. There was all this space on the beach, yet this man decided to sit down right next to you and smoke a cigarette!
You were sure that you were gawking at him at this point, if at nothing else, his sheer audacity. When he finally seemed to sense your seething gaze, you quickly looked back at your book as if it was the most interesting thing in the world—despite you completely losing your spot.
After a moment of pretending to resume your reading, the stale scent of the cigarette had lessened, indicating to you that the man next to you had finally stopped. Good. Maybe your simple glare had been more effective than you realized.
But nearly as soon as a self-satisfied smirk could find itself on your face, the scent returned in full force. You practically had to physically restrain yourself from uttering, “Seriously?” aloud.
Seeing as your first passive aggressive attempt at getting him to stop was futile, you decided to pull out the big guns.
With your all but abandoned novel in hand, you curled your unoccupied arm around your mouth and began to cough profusely. You put all your might into pulling out the most atrocious sounds you could muster from your lungs, and when you decided you were satisfied with this passive aggressive approach, you glanced over at your beach companion, only to find him looking back at you.
With him looking straight at you, you felt your stomach trip over itself. You’d always been a sucker for pretty men, and with one pointed look, you were sure that this would be no different. Yet, armed with the knowledge that you were the one who started this, you willed yourself not to give in to someone with good looks and cigarette breath.
You continued to stare him down, hoping that you were coming off as intimidating, rather than swooning. Though, the longer the two of you glared at each other, you swore you could see his lips mold into the look of a smirk, particularly as he took a pointedly long drag from his cigarette.
It quickly became abundantly clear to you that he wasn’t interpreting your gaze to be anything near threatening—if anything, he saw it as a challenge. Unluckily for him, you were incapable of backing down to a challenge.
As soon as you opened your mouth to form some sort of sassy remark, you were surprisingly beaten to the punch.
“Want one?” he asked, the smirk unwavering on his stupidly attractive face.
“Ew,” you replied, then immediately regretted it. Seriously? Ew? That was the best that you could do? You would think that years of dodging and delivering verbal daggers over family dinner would’ve better prepared you for this moment, but leave it to you to be tripped up by a pretty face.
You paused for a beat too long before retorting, “You can keep your lung disease, thank you very much.” You readjusted the book in your lap, still not feeling completely satisfied with your reply, but anything was better than your first statement. “Maybe go smoke somewhere that’s not right next to me, like,” you paused to gesture to the widely empty beach. “Literally anywhere else.”
“I didn’t realize that you were queen of this strip of beach. My apologies, Your Highness,” he shot back snarkily. You swore you could feel your blood boiling as it pumped through your veins.
“I’m not saying you can’t stay here,” you could feel your volume increasing as more adrenaline pumped through you, “I’m just asking that you don’t smoke.”
You watched as his brows raised questioningly the longer you spoke. “Or at least, don’t smoke next to me,” you clarified, folding under the pressure of a set of rather piercing blue eyes.
“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug, to your surprise. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. You bit back the part of you that wanted to feel triumphant at your clear victory over this random, pain-in-the-ass man.
Once more, you pretended to read your book while in your peripheral vision you watched him grab his few items, including his box of cigarettes, and stand up to move. What you weren’t expecting to see was him plant himself just a few feet further from you, sit down, then begin to aggressively tap his box of cigarettes, just loud enough to grab your attention. Naively believing that he wouldn’t actually have the audacity to begin smoking again, you were slightly scandalized when he pulled a stick out and returned to happily chain smoking.
He briefly glanced back over at you, the smug look on his face telling you that he was eagerly awaiting your reaction. As much as you didn’t want to humor him, you clearly couldn’t hide your annoyance.
“Oh my god,” you huffed, grabbing your tote bag and towel and standing up to head back towards your beach house. Maybe the beach just wasn’t in the cards for today. At least that man couldn’t bother you in your sunroom.
——————
One of the benefits of owning and spending your summer at your vacation home was being able to have your friends stop by and spend a few days with you. Seeing as your parents were utterly uninterested in spending any of your summer break together, it was also nice that you were basically able to do whatever you wanted over the summer.
As a teenager, this mainly meant parties and intense summer flings, but as your time in college began to mature you and your friends, the novelty of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing began to wear off. What never seemed to wear off was your love for the local ice cream shop, with its sweet dairy scent lingering in the air and a waffle cone that was nothing short of to die for.
With one of your friends’ visits coming to an end, the two of you sat on the patio of this shop, racing against time and heat as you worked on your cones. In between gossip about which one of your classmates had to attend graduation with a baby bump, you caught your eye on someone exiting the shop to join you on the patio.
You practically had to hold back your groan as you processed who it was. Unfortunately, your enemy from the beach hadn’t felt nearly enough shame, and he openly waved at you.
Upon seeing your eyes wander, your friend turned around to see what it was that caught your eye. Just as quickly as she turned around to view the asshole, she turned right back to you with a newfound excitement.
“Oh my god, you know him?” your friend asked you, shock and elation written all over her face for a reason you couldn’t understand.
“Unfortunately,” you replied, taking a bite of a bit of exposed cone. “Do you know him? Did he go to your high school or something?”
She scoffed at your words as if you were missing the most obvious point in the world. “‘Did he go to my high school or something?’” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s Patrick Zweig. He’s about to go pro.”
You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, as if to ask for more context.
“In tennis? He’s like, the thing right now,” she explained.
“Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole,” you glanced back over at him, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at you as he licked his own cone of ice cream. If you hadn’t had such a ridiculous encounter a week ago, you would’ve thought that he was being suggestive towards you.
“What happened that made him such an asshole?” she prodded, and you swore that she leaned forward as she asked.
“Please try to look a little less excited,” you laughed, entertained by your friend’s investment in your story about someone who was a celebrity in her eyes.
“Sorry,” she apologized disingenuously. “Go ahead.”
“Well, I was just trying to do some reading out on the beach, when he sat like, two feet away from me. Mind you, the entire beach was empty. He could’ve gone anywhere else.”
“Dick,” she interjected, though the unsubtle glance over in Patrick’s direction and her overzealous body language suggested to you that she might’ve meant the words less than she thought she did.
“Right,” you agreed. “But that clearly wasn’t enough. So he starts chain smoking. Right next to me.”
“Rude,” she added, doing her best to validate you as you told the story. Her ability to only add commentary in a monosyllabic manner was entertaining you, but you couldn’t focus too much on that now.
“So I called him out. I was like, ‘Hey, you dick. I know that you want black lung, but not everyone else does,’” you explained, embellishing your story to disguise your lackluster responses.
She giggled as you explained and you continued on. “Obviously, he was embarrassed that I called him out. So he looks me right in the eyes, and-“
“And what?” she asked, her eyes practically glimmering, as if you were about to tell her a story about some wild tryst that left you with a negative impression of him.
“Babe, I don’t think this story ends the way you think it does.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug and a wink.
“Well, he got his ass up and started walking away. Internally, I’m celebrating. But then, he sits down pretty close to me… and starts smoking again. And he’s staring me down the whole time he does it.”
“Ugh! He is an asshole,” she shook her head as you wrapped up your story. “But like, isn’t he kinda…?”
“He could be the sexiest man alive and couldn’t seduce me with that personality,” you replied confidently, although you weren’t completely sure of your words.
“That’s certainly not stopping him from trying,” she glanced over her shoulder once more, where he was still looking at you while very intently eating his ice cream cone.
“Gross,” you replied, feigning a full-body shudder. “You couldn’t even pay me to go anywhere near him.”
“It’s probably for the best anyway. A friend of my friend said there was some super messy relationship drama with him recently.”
“Lovely,” you replied, trying your best to look and sound disinterested, but feeling curious regardless. “I feel bad for whoever has to spend any extended period of time with him,” you popped the bottom of your ice cream cone into your mouth, then crushed a paper towel in your hand. “Wanna head out?”
——————
After that, you truly tried your best to avoid Patrick. Like clockwork, he seemed to appear on the beach in your backyard during the late afternoon. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you had watched him through the windows of your bedroom more than a handful of times, and you could almost swear that his head was on a swivel, as if he were looking for someone before he settled into his spot.
Unfortunately for you, it felt like he seemed to pop up wherever you were. As you evaluated boxes of strawberries at the grocery store, you noticed him eyeing bunches of bananas not all that far away from you. Midway through a hike, you noticed a familiar set of distractingly muscular thighs and tried your best to hide, much to your friend’s confusion. While drinking a fruity cocktail at a bar, you noticed him and finished off your drink and threw down a bill at record speed.
You guessed that you never realized how small a town was until you were actively attempting to avoid someone. In a way, it was a little bit exciting to be dodging him so vehemently, though you’d never really admit that to yourself. At least, it was exciting until it became an utter annoyance, much like it was becoming at that very moment.
After you’d decided that you’d spent enough of your summer lounging around without practicing any golf, you decided to take it upon yourself to head to your local country club and take on the familiar course. Of course, you couldn’t play any golf without fueling up first, which left you in the restaurant of the club snacking on a cup of fries when you spotted the one person you had been trying desperately to dodge.
You averted your gaze down to your phone and acted as if you were reading the most interesting thing in the world, but not even that farce lasted long, as you were met with the sound of a chair scratching the floor across from you. You looked back up and were met with Patrick’s intense, searing stare.
“Are you following me, or something?” he asked, his brows furrowed at you as he looked at you with concern.
“What?!” you asked with disbelief. “You’re the one who keeps showing up around me and keeps licking ice cream seductively at me!”
“Seductively?” he laughed right in your face, and you could feel your face immediately warm up in embarrassment.
“Shut up,” you replied weakly, though you knew what you saw. “Who even are you?” you asked, despite now having the displeasure of knowing exactly who he was, thanks to your friend and a Google search.
He began to smirk, and it took everything in you to not want to wipe that smug smile right off of his face. “I’m Patrick, and you are?”
You introduced yourself while mentally berating yourself for the butterflies erupting in your stomach over his intent gaze. Unfortunately, Patrick was even better looking than you could’ve imagined up close, with sunkissed skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles.
“Well if you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here?” he questioned, though it was clear from his crooked, goofy smile that he wasn’t being serious.
“I play golf,” you explained with a casual shrug, though the feelings you were having inside were far from casual. “So I’m here to do that. You?”
“I knew I’d heard that name before,” Patrick began before stealing a french fry from you and popping it into his mouth. “You won a championship recently?”
You nodded with what you hoped was a neutral expression on your face, hoping to brush him off despite the fireworks going off in your stomach and the heat returning to your face. Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone had recognized you for your accomplishments out on the golf course, but it felt different coming from him.
“I did,” you replied as casually as possible, not acknowledging his fry thievery or reciprocating your knowledge of his athletic achievements. It was always better to be more mysterious with the type of person who seemed to love the chase, and it seemed clear to you that Patrick was one of those people. “Anyway, I need to go practice so I can win the next championship.”
You pushed your unfinished dish of fries towards him and stood up before grabbing the golf bag propped up next to your feet. You pushed your chair in and didn’t even spare him a glance back in his direction as you walked away, secretly hoping to yourself that he was still watching you as intensely as he’d been watching you at the table.
You tried your hardest not to ruminate over your conversation and feelings too much, but as you walked out to the first hole, you couldn’t help but over analyze everything. The first and most confusing of which being your feelings towards Patrick. Clearly, you were attracted to him. Despite your terrible first impressions of each other and having what could arguably be described as a meet-ugly, you couldn’t pretend like his good looks and charming, yet cocky demeanor didn’t have an effect on you. It was clear from the way that the butterflies in your stomach decided to stop lying dormant every time he was in your vicinity.
What you still couldn’t quite place were his feelings towards you. It was obvious that he was getting some kick out of teasing you. Hell, it was obvious from the first interaction you had with him. And it seemed like he might be interested in you, based on the way he seemed to be magnetically drawn to you, and his less than appropriate treatment of his ice cream cone, which he could deny all he wanted, was definitely a shoddy attempt at flirting. Even your friend had noticed.
Just as you began to try to make sense of your previous interaction, you looked up to find a golf cart headed your way. The cart was manned by none other than the subject of your deep thoughts, and as Patrick got closer to you, you swore you could see a fiery excitement ignited in his body.
“Play with me?” Patrick asked once he parked, despite already being off the vehicle and reaching for his rented golf bag.
You paused for a moment, as if you were considering his proposition, despite you already knowing your answer. “As long as you don’t mind getting your ass whooped.”
You made sure to deliver on this promise, beating Patrick with ease. In a way, it felt like comeuppance for him being a nuisance towards you just a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean your mini tournament was without its downsides for you. You tried desperately to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when he said something stupid and snarky, and to quiet your screaming brain during the many, many, times you corrected his stance.
What you were also surprised to find was that Patrick wasn’t all that terrible of company to keep. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh, despite your effort to be unimpressed with him, or how to throw you off right before you swung at a ball. More than once, you had to remind him that no amount of teasing would change the fact that he had a terrible score, but it certainly didn’t stop him from trying.
With your landslide victory clear and your game over, the two of you made your way back to the rental station.
“You definitely cheated,” Patrick commented as he put his equipment back.
“You’re such a sore loser,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. You’d been doing a lot of eye rolling and laughing while playing golf with him, and it was oddly quite pleasant.
“I’m not!” he insisted, turning back to face you as if that would somehow prove his point.
“You are, though! You’re a dirty player, too. I don’t think anyone has ever come up behind me and yelled for me to focus before.”
“Whatever,” he dismissed you casually, “You would be eating your words right now if we were playing tennis.”
“Yeah?” you questioned with raised brows.
“Yeah,” he parroted back, taking a step towards you and locking that intense gaze on you once more.
Feeling bold, you matched his step forward, practically getting in his face. “Fine then. Let’s play.”
“Really?” he sounded shocked by your proposition, and looked utterly unintimidated by the fact that your faces were practically touching.
“Sure. There are some courts over by the pool,” you turned to look in the direction of the pool, taking that as an opportunity to step away from him. You feared what you might do if you stayed that close to him for any longer than you needed to. “Isn’t that what you came here to do anyway?”
“So you are stalking me?” he joked, referencing your earlier conversation.
You rolled your eyes once more. At this rate, your eyes were going to be stuck at the back of your head. “Do you want to play or not?”
If you were a beast on the golf course, Patrick was a sight to behold on the tennis court. The brief article you read online simply did not do the man across from you justice as he served balls at you that probably would have wiped your head clean off of your body if you had any slower reflexes.
While you were able to get a few good hits in, courtesy of the lessons your parents put you in before they realized that golf was your calling, none of them remotely compared to the man across the court.
But your embarrassing loss was rewarded by hearing the repetitive loop of grunts and groans from your competitor. It was somewhat of a miracle that you were able to keep it together without bursting out laughing or squeezing your thighs together. You were also handsomely rewarded by seeing those muscular thighs in action. To be completely frank, there were more than a few moments where you lost momentum due to distraction from Patrick’s good looks.
While Patrick had proved himself to be a sore loser while playing golf, he wasn’t a terrible winner. He only gloated about crushing you once the two of you had finished playing, but he did happen to revel in his win for the entire walk from the tennis courts to the locker rooms.
Surprisingly, you weren’t that annoyed by him. In fact, you were pretty sure that you were hovering around the feeling of endearment.
You sat out in the lobby, freshly showered and playing on your phone when a familiar presence joined you once more.
“Are you hungry?” Patrick asked you as he made himself right at home and sat down across from you.
Was he about to ask you out on a date?
“I could eat,” you replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach once more.
“Let’s get dinner, then,” he suggested, and you tried your best not to look too excited. He was asking you out on a date. What an unexpected turn of events.
“Sure. There’s a place just up the street if you want to walk?”
The diner was slightly further than you remembered it being, but the time passed by quickly as the two of you divulged stories of your sports accomplishments on your trek over. Over dinner, the two of you instantly bonded over a similar upbringing of wealthy parents who couldn’t really be bothered to raise you, and backgrounds in boarding schools that prioritized your athletic skills over anything else.
After spending way too long at your booth and working through a spread of food that would send a shiver down your coaches’ spines, your waiter finally stopped by your table with an exhausted look on their face.
“One check or two?” they asked you.
“One,” Patrick replied before you had the chance to pipe up. The waiter turned around without inquiring anything more, clearly tired of having to serve the two of you.
“Wow,” you said with a giggle. “Chivalry is not dead.”
“I’m single-handedly keeping it alive,” he joked right along with you.
Feeling emboldened by your day of camaraderie and teasing each other, you decided to ask something. “Does that make this count as a date, then?” you asked it as a joke, though you were genuinely curious about the answer. While you’d previously found yourself intrigued with his looks, you’d now learned that he was far more than that. It was safe to say that you’d developed a full-blown crush over the span of the day.
“Do you want it to count as one?” he asked almost earnestly, and despite the fact that you were sitting, you swore you felt your knees go weak.
You shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on your face was anything but. Fortunately, he was wearing a matching grin, and you almost swore there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. You buckled under his gaze, and looked down into your nearly empty cup of water. “Sure.”
“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed.
“It’s so hot,” you huffed as the two of you stepped outside and into the humid night.
“Wanna cool off at the pool?” he suggested after holding the door open for you.
“Wow, you just don’t want this date to end, huh?” you teased. “The pool is definitely closed by now.”
“So?” he replied.
“So you want to break in?”
“Why not?” he shot back.
You stared at him for a moment with a mostly blank expression.
“You’re such a bad influence. Let’s go,” you conceded, heading in the direction of the city’s pool.
Once the two of you arrived at the locked gate, you stood expectantly, waiting for the next part of Patrick’s plan. You didn’t have to wait for too long, as with a brief confirmation that you were ready, he hoisted you up and over the fence. You then watched as he flung his own body over the fence, and you bit your lip as you attempted to distract yourself from how that image made you feel.
With both of you on the correct side of the fence, you took it upon yourself to shuck off your clothes—save for your underwear–before you dipped your toe in the cold water.
“How’s the water?” Patrick asked as he approached you, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. You tried your best not to ogle too much, but his six-pack was definitely staring at you. Yeah, you were definitely ogling, and he was definitely noticing.
“You tell me,” you replied, then pushed him into the pool without really thinking. You probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t just been caught looking at the man like he was a piece of meat, but you had been doing exactly that, and panicked.
After a moment, he resurfaced and spat out the water that he’d swallowed from your surprise movement. Yet, as he came back to the surface, he didn’t say anything to you.
You eyed him nervously while he began to approach you in the water, and you opened up your mouth to apologize just as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. With a yelp, you were dragged down into the water, luckily dodging the ledge on your way down.
Coming back up, spat out the chlorinated water and coughed out what you’d swallowed. “I deserved that.”
“You definitely did,” he agreed, lightly splashing you with water from where he stood.
You splashed him right back, putting a little more effort in and splashing him with slightly more force. “But you also deserved that.”
“And why is that?” that overconfident look appeared on his face once more. Just twenty-four hours ago, if you’d seen that look, you’d probably want to knock it right off of him. Now, you were tempted to keep prodding.
“Because you were being a dick about smoking not that long ago,” you replied, getting a little closer to him and matching his look with your own confident gaze.
“Huh,” he hummed. “Fair enough.”
“So why’d you do it?”
“Who knows. Maybe I just really wanted a smoke. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of the cute girl on the beach.”
“Shut up,” you replied with clear disbelief. “I like how you try to flatter your way out of every sticky situation.”
“I mean it.”
“So you thought annoying me was the best way to get my attention?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
You couldn’t argue with that.
“What if I was allergic to cigarette smoke?”
“You weren’t.”
“What if I just didn’t react, then?”
“You did,” he said.
“Must’ve been fate,” you replied dryly.
“Must’ve,” he agreed earnestly. Immediately, you felt a tension in your chest, and you wondered if he felt the same way. You didn’t have a witty or sarcastic comeback, and his face was dangerously close to yours.
Unsure of what to do, you splashed him once more.
“What was that one for?”
For making me fall for you in the span of a day, you idiot.
You shrugged, unable to come up with a coherent answer with you realizing just how physically close the two of you were. Now that you were beginning to have a bit of clarity, you could hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. Or maybe it was Patrick’s. With your bodies this close to each other, you couldn’t be too sure.
You wondered what was going through his mind, but if the quick glance to your lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped was any indication of his thoughts, you were sure you were on the same page.
You found yourself in somewhat of a standoff as the two of you stood there, wordless and hearts pounding as you stood together in a freezing cold pool. You shut your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them, Patrick’s nose was practically pressing against yours. But just as you began to follow his lead, you were met with a blindingly bright flashlight.
“Hey!” a new voice yelled out, pulling the two of you out of your trance. “What’s going on here?”
Patrick’s eyes widened and you were sure yours did too.
“Shit, security,” you muttered to yourself as it occurred to you what was happening. The two of you immediately scurried to the side of the pool. “I don’t think they saw us, but they definitely heard us,” you whispered.
“Do you think you could outrun them?” he asked, matching your low tone as the light of the flashlight moved across the pool without
“What?”
“Come on,” he hoisted himself out of the pool and you did the same, trying your best to be quiet as the two of you grabbed your discarded clothes.
“Patrick…” you trailed off, glued to his side.
“Come on,” he repeated as he shepherded you to the fence. “I won’t let them get you. Now,” he gestured for you to come over so he could help you climb over again, and you did. As he climbed over, the security guard’s flashlight had finally caught up with the two of you.
“Hey!” the guard repeated, lunging in your direction just as Patrick made it over.
“Run!” you yelled at him as the two of you took off. All of that tennis training clearly paid off, as he was far faster than both you and the security guard.
“Get back here!” the guard shouted as he chased the two of you.
The two of you sprinted, your bare feet screaming at you as pebbles and sticks poked your soles. Running on pure adrenaline, you swore you could hear Patrick laughing as he ran ahead of you.
The two of you ended up by his car, parked safely at the country club. You desperately tried to catch your breath as you leaned against his car door, now completely sure that you’d lost the security guard who was chasing you.
“I hate you so much,” you got out in between panting heavily.
“No you don’t,” his chest rose and fell quickly as he corrected you.
“No I don’t,” you confirmed, taking satisfaction in hearing his heavy breaths next to you and knowing that you weren’t the only one affected by the chase.
It felt as if the two of you had been transported right back into the moment you were having in the pool, a heavy, undeniable tension settling over the two of you, with the adrenaline of the chase and your hearts still rapidly pumping blood from all that running. It was almost as if one second you were standing next to each other, and the next you were pinned up against his car door, kissing like your lives depended on it.
With one of his hands up your shirt, you somehow found the willpower to use the logical part of your brain. “Wait, stop,” you reluctantly said as you pulled away for air. “I don’t want another security guard chasing us.”
“They won’t,” Patrick insisted before leaning back in to kiss you.
“They will,” you disagreed, exerting all of your willpower to dodge his advance. “Take me home?”
Patrick’s hand sat securely on your thigh for the entire ride back to the beach house. With the tension between the two of you crackling and the excitement of successfully running away beginning to die down, the two of you were mostly quiet on your way over.
After he pulled into your driveway, he looked over at you with hesitance. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he looked a little nervous.
“Wanna come inside?” you broke the ice, knowing that was what he was surely thinking about, and just as you predicted, he seemed to light up at your invitation.
The heat of the moment seemed to have passed, with the two of you now safely in your home, and not coming off the heels of being chased down the street. Patrick sat on your living room couch while you poured two tumblers of a criminally expensive whiskey.
You returned to the living room and sat down on the far end of the couch, passing him one of the cups before extending your legs out. You were pleasantly surprised when he positioned your legs over his lap and began to soothingly rub up and down your calves.
“What a day,” you sighed, taking a long sip from your cup.
“You’re telling me,” he chuckled in response.
As you laid there, you realized that you were actually quite exhausted. A silence settled over you once more as you yawned, then Patrick yawned not too long after you.
“You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be,” he said randomly.
“Oh?” you replied questioningly. “Should I be offended or flattered?”
“Up for interpretation,” he looked over to you to gauge your reaction, and you playfully pushed his thigh with your foot.
“Then I’m gonna interpret it in a good way.”
“I meant it in a good way,” he said after a beat.
You smiled softly as you peered at him. “I didn’t expect you to be like this, either. I actually had a lot of fun beating you in golf and running from security guards.”
“No way you’re still talking about golf after I absolutely demolished you in tennis,” he laughed, a sound that you’d grown rather fond of throughout the day.
“It was pretty amazing watching you play golf with such bad form. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use that many strokes on that course.”
“You wanna talk about bad form?” Patrick laughed again. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pull something when we played tennis.”
“Hey! My form is not that bad. You know I was in tennis lessons as a kid, right?”
“And how long ago was that?” he probed, looking at you with a suspicious raise of a brow.
You tried your best to do some mental math, but you were far too tired to be precise. “I mean, it was a while ago…?”
“Clearly,” he shook his head.
“Rude,” you replied, though your tone carried across you not really caring. “I’m still here for a few more weeks. Maybe you could teach me.”
“Only if you teach me how to get better at golf. I’m gonna have to impress my fellow board members someday.”
“Deal,” you agreed. Part of you wanted to leap for joy after establishing that this wasn’t some sort of one-and-done thing, and that you could at least see Patrick until you went back home.
You watched as he leaned further against the couch and tilted his head against the cushioned back of the piece of furniture, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so.
“Want to go sleep on a real bed? The guest room is clean,” you offered.
“No, I’m comfortable here,” he yawned and patted your calf. You didn’t believe him in this slightest, with his long limbs and less than ideal sleeping position. But you were quite comfortable, so you didn’t bother with insisting he leave the couch.
In the morning, you woke up in the same position that you’d fallen asleep in, with your legs draped over Patrick’s lap as he sat up and snored.
You did your best not to disturb him as you got up and went about your morning routine, taking a shower and changing into something comfortable before heading back downstairs. You were surprised to find Patrick somehow still upright and asleep on your couch, but you didn’t question it too much. It had been a long day and night.
You brewed some coffee in the kitchen, making sure to leave a portion for your guest, before you grabbed the book you’d been reading and headed out to sit on your portion of the beach.
You’d lost track of time while sitting out there, listening to the sound of the ocean and getting caught up in the contents of your book. In fact, you’d gotten so lost in your book, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gained a presence on the beach.
After Patrick cleared his throat, you turned to look at him. A smile grew on your face as the two of you locked eyes, and you scooted to the left on your oversized beach chair. Surely, there was enough space for both of you.
He took your invitation and sat down next to you, glancing between you and the ocean as he settled in. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and occasionally peered down at your book, but otherwise didn’t bother you. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other as the two of you lost track of time.
Maybe Patrick wasn’t such a terrible beach companion after all.
1K notes · View notes
hannieoftheyear · 20 days
Text
after all this time (kmg) TEASER
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When you get asked to be on the wedding party of a long-lost friend, you get the chance to reconnect with former classmate Mingyu, but not without your old feelings and struggles resurfacing.
pairing: groomsman!mingyu x bridesmaid!reader
w.c: 1,2k (teaser), full au will probably be around ~15k
genre: friends to lovers, fluff (teaser), smut, angst (full work)
warnings for the full work: it's another self-indulgent 'running away from your high school past' story from me, dealing with insecurities, a lot of not standing up for oneself, will probably add more as i keep writing :p
note: don't know when exactly i'll post this one, but i'll try to do it before september ends!! comment on this post if you want to be on the taglist ♥
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It is said that changing your usual routine helps improving your mood, taking another path home, shopping at a new place, sitting down at a different park, changing your coffee order, changing the little things to feel more energized and be more productive. You wouldn’t know, because every task you complete as fast as possible to be back home quickly. So, after days of not being to think about anything else but the upcoming wedding, it’s your only option left. 
The sky lit up with golden light, the grass and trees as green as ever, and a light breeze that prevents you from getting too hot, you walk around a park you’ve never been to before with your new ‘hot girl walk’ playlist as a soundtrack. The kids playing on the playground are the only sounds that get through your ears besides the music, maybe a bark or two as well, and the sun against your skin soothes all your worries. Damn. Going on a walk does fix your mood. 
A hand grabbing your arm softly startles you, and you’re about to punch the mystery person when you recognize his face. 
“Mingyu?” 
His eyes are focused on your fist that was ready to hit him and you lower it down, beginning to take out your airpods. 
“Sorry! You scared me!” You erupt in a nervous laughter. 
“I’m sorry! I called your name but you didn’t hear me.” 
He stands apologetic in front of you, looking down at his feet before daring to look back up at you. 
“How are you doing? We didn’t get to talk the other day.” 
“Yeah! It’s good to see you! I didn’t expect you to be there, it was a nice surprise.” 
Is it too weird to say that? Well, it’s already done. 
You notice a bike by his side, a cute pink helmet with glittery heart stickers hanging by the handle. He must’ve been biking when he saw you and took it off before calling your name. 
He gets the tiniest bit shy at your words, his ears turning a light shade of pink before disappearing quickly. 
“It’s been so long...” 
“I didn’t know if you were still friends with Olivia, I didn’t know if I was going to see you.” 
“Oh, we’re not really that close anymore.” 
You fixate on the first part of his last sentence, ignoring your body’s reaction to him implying he wanted to see you. There’s a silence as you finish your words, as it wasn’t the reply he was expecting. 
“Life, you know? We just grew apart.” 
It was you who stopped making an effort to talk to them, but even if it was still for your own good, you’re a little ashamed to admit it to Mingyu. 
“She still asked you to be her bridesmaid, that must mean something.” 
Ever the positive guy, he tries to make you feel better after the sour comment. 
“Yeah, it’s really nice of her.” 
The sun shining so bright prevents you from looking up at him, but you smile hoping he notices. 
The slow steps you’ve been taking side by side turn awkward with silence. You wanted so badly to talk to him after the other day, but now that he’s here, in front of you, your mind goes blank. 
“It’s good that you still hang out with the guys.” 
You don’t know what else to say, and the words spill out of your mouth. He doesn’t seem to notice the awkward atmosphere, his body as comfortable as ever walking by your side. 
“Yeah, even though not as often as I’d like.” A regretful smile forms across his lips, “Our schedules haven’t been lining up, I just met Olivia in person for the first time yesterday actually.” 
“What? There’s no way, you didn’t share any classes in school?” 
He shakes his head, chuckling at your surprise. 
“I think I only ever shared one class with her, but I didn’t really care much about her crowd back then.” 
“Wow, thanks for that.” 
He means all the popular guys your friends would hang out with, and you know it, but there was always something so fun in teasing him and seeing him get so pouty. 
"You know I don’t mean you.” 
His shoulder pushes your body lightly to the side and you chuckle together. It’s hard to prevent the red to rush to your cheeks, maybe he’ll mistake it for a faint sunburn. 
“That’s a cute helmet you got there.” 
Your eyes point to it as a way to distract him. 
“Oh, that?” 
He picks it up with what seems to be an embarrassed voice tone, but his actions quickly override it. He puts it on proudly and looks at you with his eyebrows raised, “my sister gave it to me when I bought the bike, gets all the ladies.” 
“I'm sure it does.” 
Attention from women he for sure gets, but probably not because of that thing. You didn’t get a proper look at him the other day, and now, standing next to him in broad daylight, you almost wish you could still live in the ignorance bliss of not knowing the exact height difference between you two. His tall, muscular, body is only enhanced by his tight blue t-shirt.  
“So, what are you doing around here?” 
His words make you realize you’ve been staring for a few seconds, and you look ahead hoping he didn’t notice. He forgets to remove the helmet, making you chuckle quietly before answering. 
“I just got off from work and thought it would be nice to take a different route home.” 
“That’s such a coincidence! I come here, like, almost every week to bike around.”  
“Wow, It really is.” 
For how long have you been avoiding this specific park for no reason? Pushing away your chance of meeting the one and only person you would’ve wanted to? 
A ping from his phone alerts the both of you, taking you out of your little bubble. 
“Sorry I-" His expression falls as he reads the new text, “I have to get going, but it was really nice seeing you!” 
"Oh, sure! I didn’t mean to hold you back.” It comes out quieter than you’d like. “Goodbye!” With a simple smile a tiny wave at him, you turn around. 
Right when he gets on his bike again, before he starts pedaling, he looks back at you, taking your first step in the opposite direction. 
“Wait!” When you turn around, he’s taking his phone out of his front pocket, “Can I get your number?” 
The both of you blush at his words, and you look up at him cautiously. 
“So we can catch up and, you know, get comfortable with each other for the wedding.” 
You had already forgot about that. The reason you even ran into him in the first place. 
“Sure!” 
Your hand trembles slightly when you take his phone and you beat yourself up for it. It’s just your number! It could mean nothing. 
“I’ll text you later so you can save mine.” 
And with a wink, he’s off to whatever he was late to. 
Great. Now you’re not only re-living your high-school anxieties, but also your high-school crushes. 
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"What's wrong?" Robin asks, bumping her arm against his as she joins him leaning against the counter, staring out the front door of Family Video.
Steve doesn't bother to lie. Robin would know, she always does. "I'm not sure wrong is the right word, but it's, it's something."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Yeah," he says, taking a quick glance around. It's just after 11pm on Saturday. They've got another hour of work before they can officially close, but Hawkins closes down at 9. The store is empty currently, and since they're facing the door, they'll know if someone comes in. "I just don't know- I don't-"
"Gather your words. Speak when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere," Robin says, and it speaks volumes that she didn't call him dingus. Steve's never upset by the nickname, not really, but sometimes, when the conversation is heavy, he can't deal with nicknames. Especially not ones that are meant teasingly now but started as an insult.
"I feel- I feel ungrateful and, like, selfish, because I'm... I'm not happy with Eddie," Steve says, then immediately frowns because that's not right. It's not wrong, either, but it's. "I'm not unhappy with Eddie. I love him. I love him so much, Robin."
"I know you do. It's disgusting."
"And I got into this relationship knowing what Eddie's like. I love him 'cause of those things, not in spite of-"
"You don't have to convince me you love him."
"Right. Right. It's just. It's like, I thought, I don't know, that I wouldn't have to always be the guy?" Steve says, and it's followed by such a long pause that he looks over. It startles a laugh out of him at how much Robin looks like him right now. Confused, brow furrowed and mouth slightly open. That's his perplexed expression, and it's mirrored on Robin's face now.
Well. Not now because he laughed so she's glaring at him.
"Sorry. It was like looking into a mirror for a moment there."
She wrinkles her nose at him and says, "What do you mean 'always be the guy'?"
He lets out a sigh. "I just mean- Eddie's the first guy I've ever dated. And there was, like, unwritten rules when dating girls. Don't give me that face, I already know the rant about straights and their het-ro-norman-whatever-"
"Heteronormativity."
"Yes, that. I know it's bad, working on unlearning it, etcetera, etcetera. Can I just get through this using the words I do have?"
"Yes. Sorry."
He waves off her apology and continues, "So, the unwritten but absolute rules of straight dating. The guy asks. The guy plans the date. He pays, if it's something that requires money. He gets the door, offers his jacket if it's cold, gives the flowers and chocolates on Valentines Day and- sorry. The guy does all that. I do all that. And I just. I want to not, not have to?"
Robin's eyes soften and she gives a sad smile. "Eddie doesn't do those things?"
Steve frowns. "Not- he's done some of those things but it's not... It's never been romantic. Never felt... intentionally romantic. Which is why I feel so ungrateful and selfish. 'Cause Eddie's not a romantic. Not like I am. And I shouldn't expect him to be!"
She frowns. "But you don't expect him to be."
"I mean, yeah. I don't. Which just makes this worse, right? Because Eddie tries. In his own way. And I'm still..."
"What does Eddie do to try?"
"He loans me jackets when I'm cold. And it's- it's like a throwback to the upside down. He'll fold it all nice and then throw it at me full force. Like with the battle vest," Steve smiles at the memory, despite his sour mood.
"That doesn't sound very romantic. That sounds like an inside joke. He could do that same thing while not dating you and it wouldn't be weird."
"Can't an inside joke be romantic?"
Robin nods as she turns, back to the counter so she can hop up on it. "Can be. And I guess if you find get pelted in the face by jackets romantic, that's your kink."
"Why do I talk to you?" Steve groans, and Robin shrugs. "Anyway, I guess I just... I want to be the one taken care of, sometimes, but not just when- God, I'm so selfish, aren't I?" He paces away from the counter, running a hand through his hair.
Eddie's a good boyfriend. He listens when Steve rambles about sports and stats, asking questions and actually engages in conversation. He takes care of Steve when a migraine leaves him all but useless; gets him his meds and water and combs his fingers through Steve's hair softly until it lulls Steve to sleep. Eddie pays attention enough to know the little things about Steve that he doesn't say out loud.
"Not just when?" Robin prompts, and Steve realizes he quit talking.
"Not just when I'm hurt. I want doors held for me, and for him to plan a romantic night, either out or in! And I- I want him to give me his jacket by wrapping it around my shoulders like I do for him."
"I'm going to say something, and you aren't allowed to be upset by it."
Steve nods.
"You have to tell him. Eddie's not gonna know you want these things unless you say so."
He nods again, because he knows that. He does. It's just... "I got with him knowing he wasn't a romantic person. I don't want- I don't know how to say it without making it sound like I want him to change. Or make him feel like he's not enough, or that he's a bad boyfriend for not having done this and-"
"Steve! Jesus, now who's the mirror? It's Eddie. He loves you. He'll listen. Even as you fumble your way through an explanation. A conversation is not the make or break of this relationship."
Steve swallows even though it feels like there's stones piling up in his stomach. A single conversation broke his last relationship, but Eddie's not Nancy.
"Yeah. You're right. I think I'm just... I'm afraid of making Eddie feel that same way Nancy made me feel, when she called us bullshit. I was blinded-sided by it all and I don't, I can't do that to Eddie."
"You won't. 'Cause this situation is different. You love Eddie, and Eddie loves you, and that's real and true. I think it would hurt Eddie more to think there's this whole other category of shit he could be doing for you, but isn't, 'cause he doesn't even know you'd like it, much less want it."
Steve nods as she speaks. It's all true, and he feels less like there are stones in his stomach. "Thanks, Bobbin. I don't- I might give it a few days before I talk to Eddie about it, but I will."
"You better, dingus," she hopes off the counter and looks at the clock, groaning when she sees it's still not midnight. "Think Keith will kill us if we close early?"
"No way. He'd have to cover all our shifts until he can hire replacements. We're too valuable to him to die."
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @skepsiss @afewproblems
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onlymingyus · 24 days
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i want to write you a song (teaser)
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pairing; lee jihoon (woozi) x f!reader
genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff
summary; You have the best job in the world as Lee Jihoon's personal assistant but his secrets are starting to turn your world upside down.
content warnings; personal assistant!reader, ceo/boss!jihoon, single dad!jihoon, children, grandparents/parents, jihoon has a sibling, coworkers!soonyoung, mingyu, & wonwoo, soonyoung in a menace, eating/drinking, alcohol, jealousy, crying, self confidence/esteem issues, death of a family member (in the past).
smut warnings; unprotected sex, pulling out, cream pie, simp!jihoon, mild dom!jihoon, sub!reader, the dom/sub dynamics are very subtle, dumbification (very mild), innocence kink, lingerie kink, pet names, praise (like a lot -- he is a simp), body worship, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, crying (from pleasure and happiness), manhandling, masturbation, pillow princess!reader, i am sure there are more (let me know if its glaring) -- bonus section has its own warnings on patreon.
w/c; 27k and some change (3.2k extra words for patreon bonus) [1.6k this teaser]
a/n; thank you to @junkissed and @seokgyuu for helping me come up with a title for this! it's a 1D song, and I do not go here, but it's a very cute song and title! also thank you to my june for proofreading for me and always being the best in the fucking world. literally going through 30k words of my bullshit... the mvp! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy me simping over simp dlif jihoon! next month is spooky seasons so keep your eyes peeled for that one 💀!  
this fic will be released 9/15 to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here
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“Miss Y/N, will you make me s’getti?” 
You had gotten to Jihoon’s house in a sour mood, but quickly found that when you were around Haein, you couldn’t be upset. She was so different from the previous day. It was obvious that she was starting to feel better, and her personality was really starting to shine. She was like a little bright light in your dark evening. 
“‘Course, as long as you guys have the stuff for it.” Pursing your lips, you open the pantry doors and sigh at the amount of groceries available to you. Of course, Lee Jihoon would have a stocked kitchen. You don’t know why you even considered anything different. 
Pulling a few things from the pantry and then more from the fridge, you glance into the living room as Haein pulls a brush through her doll's hair and hums under her breath. You had found yourself smiling fondly at everything the girl had done, even when it was the smallest thing. She could show you that she could tie her shoe and you were praising her like a proud family member. “What’s your doll's name, Haein?” 
Smiling at you from the couch, Haein lifts the doll to show it off as she moves to her knees. “I used to call her Kimmie, but I like your name better. That okay?” Biting your lip as you push the hamburger meat around in the pan in front of you, you feel your heart tighten in your chest at the little girl's words. “Mmhm, that’s okay with me.” 
Your phone had gone off a few times in the night. From the time that you had left the office to the time that you had put a bowl of spaghetti in from Haein, you had been ignoring it. You didn’t need to check it to know it was probably Jihoon. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were here. His mother had been here when you had gotten here; she had said goodbye to Haein and you knew there were security cameras in Jihoon’s house. You just didn’t find yourself wanting to talk to him while he was on a date with some girl. It wasn’t until the tenth buzz from your phone on the kitchen counter as you put leftovers into a container, you let out an annoyed breath and turned the phone over to read your texts. 
Lee Jihoon: Thank you again for helping me out. I owe you big time
Lee Jihoon: Soonyoung said you were upset when you left. Is everything okay?
Lee Jihoon: Y/N? 
Lee Jihoon: Are you mad at me?
Lee Jihoon: Could we talk when I get home?
Lee Jihoon: How is Haein? Are you guys doing okay?
Lee Jihoon: I checked the camera. I hate doing that. Seems like you guys are having a good time
Lee Jihoon: Feels like you are ignoring my texts on purpose
Lee Jihoon: What did I do???
Lee Jihoon: We are going to talk. 
Shaking your head, you send a single text message back to Jihoon before slipping your phone into your pocket and making your way over to the couch and Haein. “What are we watching?” Giggling, Haein tells you about her Barbie movie and you listen even as you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Your stomach in knots, you sigh softly and offer the girl beside you a smile as she adjusts to sit against you, her head against your shoulder, before pulling your arm around her tightly. 
Y/N: Haein is doing great. No need to rush back. Enjoy your date, Mr. Lee. 
Lee Jihoon: Be home soon, Miss Y/L/N. 
You didn’t give your phone much more thought; instead, you focused on Haein as she shifted against you to lay in your lap. Your eyes are moving between her and the movie as your fingers brush her hair back from her face. You watch as her eyes slowly close and her breaths become steady and softer, sleep taking her attention from the movie. 
Sighing softly, you feel your chest tighten at the sight of the little girl asleep in your lap, but more so at the feeling it gives you. You enjoy being close to her. You like that she is happy and feels comfortable enough to sleep. Despite only knowing her for a short time, you find yourself getting attached to Haein. 
Shrugging his coat off, Jihoon furrows his brows tightly as he moves through the house towards the living room and the sound of the television. He was frustrated that you hadn’t been answering his messages, but that last message from you had told him more than enough about why you were acting the way you were. 
He knew how he felt about you, even if it was a little terrifying for him, but if you were going to sulk and avoid him thinking that he was on a date, clearly you felt something for him too. With a plan in mind—to address the problem head-on right away—Jihoon moves into the room, only to stop in his tracks at the sight in front of him. His plan goes right out the window when he sees your fingers lazily brushing through Haein’s hair as she sleeps in your lap. Now there was no way he could avoid how he felt about you, not when you were the picture of everything he wanted in his life right in front of his eyes. 
“Y/N…” Jihoon’s soft voice causes your brows to furrow as you sit up slightly, only to feel his fingers slide along your shoulders to keep you from moving to quickly and startling Haein. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t wake her. She looks so peaceful.” Leaning over your shoulder, Jihoon smiles brightly as he carefully guides his fingers along the side of yours over Haein’s head with a sigh. “She looks happy.” 
Jihoon had never been this close to you before and with where he had just come from, you find yourself leaning your head away from his cheek to give him space before moving your hand from his daughter’s head. “Mm, I hope she is. I can let you take her so I can get out of the way.” 
Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sighs as he turns his head towards you to meet your eyes. “You aren’t in the way, Y/N. Would you stop this? You’ve avoided my messages all evening. I want to talk about what’s going on, but I do want to get Haein in her room first.” Lifting his brows, Jihoon waits for you to nod before he stands back to his full height and moves around the couch to slide his arms under her, pulling her against his chest. 
Glancing over his shoulder as he takes a step towards the hall, Jihoon swallows hard, hearing you shift behind him. “Please don’t leave, okay? For me? Give me like five minutes to put my daughter in her bed and then I’ll be back.” You wanted to tell him no and leave, but the look on his face and the way he phrased his words made you settle back into the couch with another nod. 
Jihoon kept his promise and less than five minutes later, you watched a less put-together Lee Jihoon make his way back into the living room. Running his fingers through his hair, he then unbuttons his sleeves and pushes them up to his elbows before finally meeting your eyes allowing you to see how nervous he really is. 
“I’m pretty tired, Mr. Lee. I should be getting home soo—” 
“I wasn’t on a date, Y/N.”
It isn’t just Jihoon cutting you off that makes you stop, but also what he has to say. Tilting your head, you shift nervously on the couch as he sits down next to you, closer than you anticipate. “That’s what you wrote me. Your last text... To enjoy my date? I was out for a business dinner with Seokmin and his manager. I haven’t been on a date in over two years.” 
It was none of your business. He didn’t need to tell you this and you shouldn’t have even said anything. You feel guilt sitting on your shoulders as you look down at your hands and push your fingers into your palm. “Oh… Well, you don’t owe me any explanations.”
You were so devastatingly beautiful and frustrating at the same time. Scoffing, Jihoon shakes his head as his eyes stay fixed on your fingers as you nervously dig them into your palm. “Clearly I do, and I should have just explained it before when I asked you to stay with Haein tonight. There are a lot of things I need to explain to you, I think, based on how you are reacting and how Soonyoung said you left at work.” 
Now you feel like a fool. Embarrassment washes over you and you lift your head, meeting Jihoon’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m—that’s so… God. I am so embarrassed, Jihoon. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I acted like a child when I left work; I said stupid shit.” 
You watch a smirk pull at Jihoon’s lips before he glances down and nods. Obviously, Soonyoung had told him what had happened, perhaps in detail. “Made me realize that I’m maybe not alone in feeling something between us. If you can get that jealous over the idea of a date.” 
Heat rises along your neck and into your face as you look away from Jihoon at what his words imply. Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows as your brain goes from misfiring to giving you approximately a hundred reasons to bolt for the door, including the fact that Jihoon is your boss. 
“Am I wrong? ‘Cause I like you, Y/N. I mean, fuck—I really like you.” Trying to hide your smile, you lift your hand, pushing at your lips, before Jihoon’s fingers wrap gently around your wrist, pulling your hand down to your lap as he whispers your name to get you to look at him. “Come on, talk to me.” 
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