#gonna sit on this one for a while probably

[yunalinwrites]

one of my fav kdramas (called youre beautiful) is abt a girl joining a boy band and pretending to be a boy ohshc style except her fellow members dont know and she has to somehow live with them while hiding it 😭 it's so wattpad i love

so imagine being fem!reader sharing a dorm with the saja boys while trying not to get found out

of course u cant hide forever tho so this is how i think you'd get found out and how they'd react:

❓ mystery knew from the start. you didnt realize he was scrutinizing you so closely bc of them fuck ass bangs but from the day you met he could tell just by looking at you. but, much like he does about everything, he kept quiet because he didnt want to freak you out. he found it cute though, every time you'd slip up and get all flustered trying to cover up why you were staring at the dresses at the mall or why you were caught buying pads. so, he'd just smile, pat your head, and calmly help you make excuses. if you walk into the wrong room at the wrong time he'll quietly direct you to a gender neutral bathroom or drape a towel over your eyes whenever the guys got too... carefree in the locker room. lowk helps you hide it from the other members bc he likes it being his little secret

🍼 baby also found out pretty early but also like not really? he walked in on you in the bathroom once and was like "mb" and then he thought about it and was like "wait a sec..." but then he just shrugged it off. and since then for a while in the back of his head he would catch the way you walk or the way you sit or the way your eyelashes look against your cheek and for a split second would think like "is he a chick?" but he never really came to a conclusion bc he just dont gaf. dude or not he treats you pretty much the same. once everyone else starts figuring it out tho thats when he starts acknowledging it. now that everyone else seems to treat you differently as a girl, he starts questioning how to feel or act around you...

💪 abby started rough housing with the other boys and tried to pull you in. lifted you up and not only were you lighter than he expected, your bodies were right up against each other. you did your best to bind your tits down but when you were chest to chest like this it was still noticeable. he awkwardly puts you down and scratches the back of his neck, mumbling an apology. for the next few days his brain is fried thinking about it. he never verbally acknowledges it but he starts being super gentle around you and treating you like you're fragile. feels the need to protect you physically, even if its against the other boys. always keeping watch to make sure they're gentle with you as well.

✨ jinu overhears you out yourself on the phone somehow and is so mad and so flustered at the same time. he's afraid you're going to be a liability if the fans find out and its gonna be a pain to hide but behind all that anger he's just scared of women fr. blushes every time he remembers you're a girl. every time you end up together alone in the living room or catch each other in the hallway, brushing each others shoulders in the slightest, he turns bright red and freaks tf out. somehow though he finds it easier to connect with you emotionally as a girl. with other guys it sometimes feels weird to be vulnerable, but you don't seem to have that shame at all. he admires it. gwi ma probably forced you into this situation so he empathizes with you.

🫶 romance liked to ask you all the time about your love life. asking what your type is, ideal date, dream wedding, do you want kids, etc. you figured it would be safest to just pretend you were a straight dude who liked girls. he wouldnt have cared though. he was starting to feel a little something for you even before you revealed yourself as a girl but refrained from going down that route to stay professional. but when you do reveal yourself as a girl it starts to get even harder to keep that boundary.

🥤 overall once they figure it out none of them tell each other or really say it aloud bc of the implications it has. but they all show it through actions like making sure you're fed and hydrated, letting you use the shower first, asking you if you need a break during rehearsal, etc. but trust, once they all start offering to help you at the same time--like all of them reaching to lend you their marker during fan signings when yours goes dry or surrounding you with 5 different choices of hoodie when you mention you're cold--they start getting real jealous and possessive real soon; they all want to be the one and only you rely on.

eventually though when they all reveal that they all know and everyone's on the same page, they start working together to protect you. all 5 of them wrapped around ur finger 😋 but still fighting for your attention

a/n: ugh i wish i had time/energy to do this properly along w all my other fics for kpdh (this movie has taken over my life) but idk i prob wont LOLL if anyone else wants to build off of this plz go ahead and tag me

UPDATE !!! PROLOGUE OUT NOW 🤑

[prettygirl-gabi]

Red Looks Good on You

Pairing: Georgia Amoore x Singer!reader (feat. Paige Bueckers & Azzi Fudd)

Fandom: WNBA-Washington Mystics

Summary: A jersey swap that turns into something more….

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @let-zizi-yap , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav

If someone had told me back when I was stress-crying over finals at UConn that I’d one day be court-side at a WNBA game in a Paige Bueckers jersey, next to Azzi Fudd and her dad—while catching actual butterflies over a maybe-crush on Georgia freaking Amoore—I probably would’ve said they were delusional.

And yet, there I was. Right in the middle of it.

“Rock, paper, scissors…shoot!”

“Ugh!” I groaned, throwing down scissors for the third time in a row. Paige smirked, smug as ever.

“That’s three Ls in a row, Y/N. My jersey it is,” she grinned, tossing me her navy Dallas Wings jersey like she was handing me a win when really, I’d just walked straight into her trap.

“You’re so manipulative,” I muttered, tugging the jersey over my oversized tee.

“You’re the one who kept picking scissors. Rookie mistake.”

Azzi cackled from the doorway of the hotel room, already scrolling through her camera roll. “I got that last round on video. You look like a loser, bestie.”

“You’re my friend. You’re supposed to lie to me.”

She just snorted. “Yeah, but Paige is my girlfriend, so loyalty has levels.”

I rolled my eyes but grinned anyway.

Game day.

We arrived early, just as warmups started. The arena was buzzing—music blasting, kids bouncing in the aisles, players locked in their rhythms on the court. Azzi’s dad, Tim, handed me a bottle of water as we settled into our court-side seats.

“She still wearing your jersey?” he asked Azzi, nodding to me.

“She lost a bet,” Azzi said without looking up from her phone. “Paige is annoying.”

“She’s right there,” I whispered, nodding toward Paige and Arike who were warming up directly in front of us.

“Oh, I know,” Azzi said, casually flipping her phone toward me. She had Paige’s contact pulled up and was typing a text that read: She looks better in your jersey than you do, just saying 😇

“You’re chaos,” I whispered.

“I contain multitudes,” Azzi replied, smirking.

Then we heard someone behind us say, “Oh look, Georgia’s coming this way.”

My heart did a full gymnastics routine in my chest.

I looked up—and there she was.

Georgia Amoore.

Hair slicked into a messy but neat bun, crop top clinging to her like it was made for her alone, and her jersey in hand.

Literally in her hand.

My name caught in my throat.

Azzi noticed my silence and glanced up too.

“Y/N,” she said, elbowing me lightly. “Try not to melt.”

“I’m not melting,” I whispered.

“You’re steaming, sweetheart.”

Georgia reached us with a casual smile and a soft “Hey.”

Her eyes flicked to me, lingering for a second longer than what was considered friendly, then shifted to Azzi.

“Hey,” Azzi said, sitting up straighter. “Warmups going okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Georgia nodded, looking at the jersey in her hands like she suddenly wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I was just, uh—gonna give this to someone. But looks like I got beat to it.”

She gestured toward me in Paige’s jersey.

“Ohhh,” Azzi teased lightly, eyes dancing between us. “We had a rock-paper-scissors match. Paige won.”

Georgia chuckled. “Tough loss.”

Then, with a little shrug, she turned and handed the red Mystics jersey—her own jersey—to Azzi.

“I guess you’ll wear it better anyway,” she said with a playful smirk.

Azzi blinked. “I mean…if you insist.”

And just like that, she slid it on over her crop top, much to Paige’s immediate disapproval. From directly in front of us, Paige stared with an open-mouthed glare.

“Really?” Paige mouthed, mid-free throw warmup.

Azzi shrugged exaggeratedly. “What? Y/N has yours!”

“She’s baiting her so bad,” I whispered to Tim, who just laughed.

Halftime.

“Text from Paige,” Azzi announced, snickering as she flashed her phone. “She said, and I quote, ‘Take. It. Off. Now.’”

“What’d you say back?”

“I sent her a selfie,” Azzi grinned, scrolling to show me a picture she’d just snapped. In it, she was dramatically pouting while wearing Georgia’s red number 8. “Caption: Not until you say please.”

“You are sick.”

“Not as sick as you, apparently,” she said, turning toward me. “You’ve been lowkey staring at Georgia this whole game.”

“No, I haven’t!”

“Y/N. You literally asked me how to say ‘what’s up’ in Australian slang before the game.”

“…Okay, yeah, I did.”

She leaned toward me during a break in the music, voice dropping slightly.

“So…does it smell like her?”

I blinked. “What?”

“The jersey,” she laughed. “You asked earlier.”

“I said that as a joke!” I covered my face. “Ugh, that’s so weird to say out loud.”

“I think it smells like cherry chapstick and intimidation,” Azzi said matter-of-factly, inhaling a little.

I gave her a horrified look.

“Wanna smell it?”

“No! Azzi!”

She burst out laughing and then got a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You wanna wear it for the second half?”

“Wait, are we swapping jerseys?” I asked.

She grinned. “Let’s make Paige mad.”

We had one minute before the second half started.

I yanked Paige’s jersey off and handed it over, exchanging it for Georgia’s red Mystics one.

It was still warm from Azzi’s body, a little oversized, and smelled vaguely like citrus and sport detergent.

“Okay, I get it,” I admitted.

Azzi smirked. “Right?”

She sent one last picture to Paige—me now in Georgia’s jersey, her in Paige’s—and captioned it: Plot twist 💅

After the game, the crowd was electric, buzzing out of the arena like bees.

Paige gave us both the stink eye before disappearing into the tunnel, and Azzi just blew her a kiss and skipped off to meet her dad.

I hung back, still clutching a Sharpie I never used because I chickened out getting Georgia’s autograph earlier.

Then I heard it: “Hey, red looks really good on you.”

I turned.

Georgia.

Again.

Close now. Up close enough that I could see the freckles on her cheeks and the light flush behind her ears.

“Really?” I asked, smiling.

She nodded. “Yeah. Plus, I’ve never seen anyone wear the number 8 so well besides myself.”

I laughed, heart skipping.

“I was actually about to give this back to you,” I said, gently tugging at the hem.

She reached out, stopping me with a soft hand to my wrist.

“Keep it,” she said. “You wear it better anyway.”

I looked at her, surprised.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” she smiled. “Just…wear it somewhere cool.”

About two weeks later I had a show in Boston

I stepped onto the stage, mic in hand, lights low. My band behind me started playing something slow, sultry, unreleased.

The crowd hushed as the beat dropped.

I wore Georgia’s jersey as a dress—belted at the waist, paired with red boots. The number 8 was bold on my back, almost daring.

“This one’s unreleased,” I said into the mic. “I wrote it about a certain someone I maybe…kinda have a crush on.”

The crowd screamed.

Later That Night at a cozy diner in Boston.

We sat across from each other in a booth, milkshakes in hand, fries between us. Georgia wore a hoodie over her head, and I was still wearing her jersey.

“People are gonna start connecting dots,” I said, sipping my shake.

“Let ‘em,” she said, shrugging.

I smiled softly.

Then she pulled out her phone, snapped a blurry picture of our hands locked together, and posted it on her Instagram story.

Caption: On a date. Kinda nervous ❤️@y/n.officially

It took about five seconds before I reposted it with my own caption:

“Me too 😳❤️”

And just like that, the internet went insane.

But me?

I was calm for once.

Because red really did look good on me—especially when it came from someone who made me feel seen.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[littlelamy]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTjsS7tKn/

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTjsSEJN8/

Babes I need you to recreate this with boyfriend!Rafe Cameron and girlfriend!sweetheart!reader I’m begginggggg I need it soo baddd!!😫

you were already giggling before he even started reading. lying flat on your back with your phone pointed at him, front camera flipped, recording while rafe sat shirtless at the edge of the bed with your notes app open, “just read ‘em out loud.”

he looked down at the screen, one eyebrow rising. “you’ve been keeping a list?”

“for accountability,” you said sweetly, “emotional support documentation.”

he rolled his eyes, “you’re literally the most dramatic person i’ve ever met.”

“and now the internet will know too,” you chirped, nudging his thigh with your foot. “come on, rafe..first one.” he sighed, tilted the phone toward him, and read.

“quote: ‘you look really pretty today.’”

you beamed, “uh uh that's not all—”

he held up a finger, “and then i followed it with, ‘you always look good, but today it’s like you tried.’” you grimace pushing the camera towards him to get his full reaction. “that was me noticing effort,” he said defensively. “you had that little hair bow on. the sparkly one that looks like a cupcake.”

“you insinuated i look like a slob every other day.”

he smirked, “i didn’t say that...you said that.”

you groaned, tossing your head back onto the pillow. “next one, meanie.”

he scrolled and read the next line, already smiling. “‘this outfit is very….you.’”

“see? see?!” you sat up halfway, pointing accusingly. “you acted like i was wearing a hideous costume. ”

“you were in that sheer heart mesh thing,” he said, laughing. “the one with the rhinestone pasties.”

“it was a surprise for you! and i didn't know you planned a lunch date.” you hid your face in your hands. “ugh justice for me. i am a victim.”

he scrolled again on to the next one, chuckling. “‘i didn’t think you could eat that many pancakes in one sitting.’” shaking your head, he held his hands up in defense. “my reaction was shock. you stacked them, baby, like a tower. i thought the top one was gonna tip.”

you let out a dramatic whine. “you insulted my pancake tower and my appetite in the same breath!”

he leaned over and kissed your forehead. “baby..you eat like a competitive wrestler. i love it tho.”

you blinked at the camera, moving the camera to face you and then back to him, “you hear that? love.”

rafe kept scrolling. “‘you remind me of a poodle in one of those dog shows, but if it couldn’t stop talking.’” he pauses looks dead into the camera, then start cracking up. “okay now, wait, that one had context,” he said quickly, already laughing.

“you compared me to a dog!”

“a million-dollar show dog! the fancy kind.” you tackled him with a pillow, whacking his shoulder as you both broke down laughing.

“you cannot justify that,” you said through giggles.

“you’re literally proving my point,” he said, wheezing. “you’re all bark and giggles.”

you rolled onto your back again, still laughing as he looked at the camera, face softening. “but she looks pretty every day,” he said, voice lower now. “not just when she tries.”

your laughter slowed as you peeked at him through your lashes. “wait..that was actually sweet.”

he kissed your cheek, thumb brushing your jaw. “you know i think you’re perfect, right?”

you smiled up at him,“hmph, say that to the camera.”

he looked right into the lens and said, “i am completely in love with this girl. she’s the sweetest thing in my entire life, and if she ever stops letting me buy her clothes and kiss her dumb sparkly lip gloss mouth, i’d probably die.”

you leaned in and kissing his cheek then lips. but just before you ended the video, he added, “also, she did eat eight pancakes..like a fucking beast.” you shrieked, grabbing a pillow and hit him again.

and then posted it, with the caption: "very rude @/rcameron"

top comment: 'tell him watch his tone'

second top comment: 'he’s learning girlll keep on training him!!!!'

rafe liked both and then ordered you the sparkly heart dress again.

[stevenose]

contains: reader referred to as ‘good girl’; reader has breasts and a vagina; makeouts; dry humping; nipple play

thinking about having one of those classic make out sessions with steve. something smooth and quiet playing on vinyl with the lights down low, maybe a tasteful candle here and there. sitting pretty on steve’s lap while his big hands gently grope where they can reach. starting with your thighs, then moving up to your waist - then back down to your ass and up to your breasts.

you keen when he pinches your nipples, and he whispers soft praises into your mouth as his hands explore you.

“good girl.”

“so soft.”

“you’re beautiful.”

you’re both grinding into each other, your strokes slow and in tandem. your fingers play with the strands of brunette hair at the nape of his neck while his nimble fingers find the clasp of your bra. he’s good at it, only takes a moment for him to pop it open.

“can i?” he whispers, leaning back. his eyes are full of stars and absolute adoration.

you nod, helping him get it off of you by slipping down the straps and pulling it through the sleeves of your shirt. steve takes a moment to admire your pebbled nipples through the thin cotton of your blouse before gently rubbing the pad of his thumbs over them.

“steve,” you breathe, stomach doing somersaults. you grind down on him hard, probably enough to hurt. you need friction so badly.

“i know,” he coos under his breath, beautiful tenor voice turning deep with lust. he brings a hand up to your cheek, cupping it and pulling you in again. “you need me, don’t you?”

“need you so bad,” you whimper.

steve smiles against your lips. “i know, honey. gonna take real good care of you.”

[the-librarby]

hiii i love your drunk in the club series !!

would you write a blurb/fic where johnny shows the rest of the 141 the picture from the bar of reader and ghost? i feel like that could be so cuteee

DRUNK IN DA CLUB — OUTTAKE I

- SIMON RILEY (COD)

I’ve been waiting for this one, let’s fucking go.

It had been less than twenty four hours back on base before John set his mind to ruining Simon’s day.

He was fucking tired— a nice bone tired after a good holiday — no one has really picked up on his oddly serene mood yet, and he was hoping to keep it that way for at least the rest of the day.

Miss you already.

Sent 25 minutes ago.

He wasn’t ignoring you, just waiting for a pocket of silence where he would have you to himself without peering eyes and ears. The dining room was empty as of now, everyone being preoccupied with unpacking their things so he was soaking in the last minutes of peaceful silence until all hell broke loose.

“Restful break then?” Gaz asks, clapping him on the shoulder before taking a seat beside him.

“S’alright,” he mutters through his mask.

“No beach trip like Soap wanted I take it?” He inquires jokingly, broad smile on his face.

Simon rolls his eyes, “Fuck no.”

Price mills in not long after, catching the tail end of the conversation, “Hell would soon freeze over before I here about Ghost at the beach,”

“Can’t argue with that, Cap.” Gaz laughs.

A steady silence washes over the kitchen as everyone goes about their individual things. John is suspiciously absent, he’s usually the first one trying to unpack a conversation—in avoidance of unpacking his bags—Simon thinks he’s probably stealing another minute to talk to that girl he met through you.

He spoke too soon.

Moments later Johnny strides in, first it’s inconspicuous, like he’s just trying to see what everyone else is up too. But then he sees who’s in the room, Simon sitting at the head of the table while Gaz and Price sit either side engaged in small talk. Simon watches as John’s expression morphs into one of concerning mischief. He watches as he cautiously approaches the table, standing at the other end and pressing his fingertips together like a cliché villain would.

John clears his throat, “I’m glad I could bring you all here on such short notice,”

Gaz raises an eyebrow and looks at Simon, “What’s he on about?”

Simon shrugs, “Fucked if I know,” he knows.

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here,” John carries on, pacing back and forth.

“Spit it out son,” Price sighs, “It’s too early for you to be talking in tongues,”

John points at Simon, “He’s the one that’s been talking in tongues,” he shoots back, laughing at his own inside joke.

“Anyway, where was I,” he pauses, “Oh yeah. I am here to tell you the epic tale of the one who crumbled The Ghost himself.”

All three men look at him in silence. If Simon wasn’t wearing a mask right now he’d be pinching the bridge of his nose, he refuses to give into the bait so he just sits there in silent resignation.

Gaz is the first to break the silence, “Five bucks I call bullshit— it’s gonna be some elaborate fairytale,”

Johnny points at him as an auctioneer would, “I call your bet, anyone else in?”

Price sighs and leans back in his seat while crossing his arms over his chest, “Get on with it Soap, I don’t have all day,”

John clears his throat theatrically, “I, ever so graceful—”

“Yeah, that’s the word we’ll use,” Gaz mutters.

“Shut up,” he raises his palm in Gaz’s face, “Ever so graceful, hosted Ghost over the break,” he lowers his hand, “And in that time, I saw this fucker find his soulmate,”

Price raises an eyebrow and looks towards Gaz, “I think I’m seeing the fairytale come to life,”

Gaz hums, “Where did the princess come from?”

John scoffs, “Can’t show all my card yet Gaz, c’mon now,” he looks at Simon, “Anything details you want to add? Wedding plans?

Simon shakes his head, “You’ve lost your mind,”

“Wedding?” Price inquires turning his head to see Simon now. He hates how much they’re both buying into John’s nonsense theatrics, he’d almost rather blurt out the truth himself.

“Who’s best man then?” Gaz laughs, “It’s me, right Ghost?”

“Fuck off,” John spits, “I’m the obvious choice,”

Simon huffs and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief, “Not havin’ this debate, finish your story, Johnny,”

“Eager huh?” He smirks but concedes, “S’lright Gaz, you can be the best man. I’ll be there regardless, being apart of the bride’s family and all.”

He knew the story had an end point, he knew it would end with himself getting outed. He just didn’t think Johnny would drop the bomb like that, but of course he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

“You fuckin’ dickhead, why would you announce it like that?” He mutters.

Gaz squints his eyes, looking a Price for guidance as he works out the mental maths before him, “Bride’s family?”

If he weren’t expecting it, he would have flinched from the way Gaz slammed his hands down on the table and stood up from his chair, “John’s sister?” He exclaims, “You got with his fucking sister?”

He looks at John, “And you’re not pissed off? That your lieutenant is dating your sister?” He looks at Simon, “You really want to marry into his family?” He asks, hitching a thumb in John’s direction.

Simon crosses his arms over his chest, “Didn’t say anything about a wedding,”

“Yet,” John interrupts.

Simon’s silence makes Gaz laugh hysterically, Price who hasn’t said a word at all, just shakes his head in disbelief.

“Alright,” Price raises his hands, waiting for Gaz to simmer down, “I’ve heard more elaborate lies from you over smaller things. I’m not believin’ another word until I see proof,”

John nods, “So glad you said that, Captain,” he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. Simon would walk out of the room now if he knew it wouldn’t make his case worse, so he just sits there and grits his teeth.

Gaz is sitting on the edge of his seat, admittedly it’s gotten Price to straighten up too. John clears his throat once he’s found his evidence, “And to back up my claims, fresh off the press, a photo of two birds—one drunk out of her fucking mind—all cozy in their nest,”

Price is the first to lean forward and look at John’s phone. On the screen is the photo he took of the two of you at the bar, its exposure is slightly high from the flash but it’s undeniably himself and you sitting on the barstools. His arm is over your chest while you lie back against him, your arms hugging his own.

It’s damning evidence that even Simon can’t get around.

“Holy fucking shit,” Gaz breaks the silence, “This feels like a relic—like it needs to be preserved behind glass,”

“I fucking told ye, and you didn’t believe me,” John states.

Price looks at Simon and nods approvingly, “Good for you,”

“That’s it?” John asks, “Good for you? I just showed you evidence of the century,”

“I didn’t think you could even tolerate affection,” Gaz adds, looking speechless.

“Get this Gaz,” John continues, “First day there, it’s hot as balls and we go to a local swimming spot,” he puts his phone down, “I turn my back for one minute and when I turn around she’s slathering him in sunscreen,”

“Oh,” Gaz laughs, turning to Simon, “You like her huh? Did she get your back?”

John scoffs and crosses his arms, “She was too busy droolin’ over it to touch it,” he mutters.

“What?” Simon asks, suddenly interested.

“What?” John interjects, “Nothin’.”

Simon sits there and listens to John air out all his business like it’s his own. After the shock dies down Gaz and Price both look at him with a fond smile—in utter disbelief yes, but happy for him.

When time allows it, he sneaks back to his room and finally opens his phone. There’s two messages waiting for him, one from you, and an image from John.

Johnny told everyone about us.

That fucking asshole.

Guess I’m meeting them soon then?

Simon smiles, and types out one last message.

Maybe at the wedding.

Whose wedding???

When your last message shows up on Simon’s lockscreen, the photo from the bar pops up in the background.

[sirenontheloose]

Please Don't Clip This

Crushes are just little heart attacks you enjoy

The livestream wasn’t planned. No announcement, no fancy setup. Just Y/N in her studio, sleeves pushed up, hair pulled into a loose bun, a mug sitting beside her laptop as Rosé’s new album played quietly in the background. She leaned forward to adjust the screen, face lit softly by the glow of the monitor.

"Hi," she started. "Was gonna listen to this alone, but figured I might as well have a little listening party with you guys."

The chat lit up instantly. Some fans welcomed her back, others teased her for ghosting them again. She skimmed the comments, eyes flicking left to right as a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Water," she said, lifting her mug. "No snacks sadly. This wasn’t planned," she pouted.

She let a few tracks play without interruption, swaying slightly to the beat, reading comments here and there while the music filled the room.Then someone asked about LA.

"When am I going back? Next week, actually. For about two weeks." She paused, then lowered her voice. "I don’t know if I can say this but... I’ll start working on my solo."

The comments instantly exploded. She didn’t elaborate, just smirked a little and took a sip like she hadn’t just dropped major news.

Then the tone of the chat shifted. Some fans asked what the solo would sound like, while others started suggesting people she should hang out with in LA. At first, it was casual. But then one name kept popping up.

KATSEYE.

And more specifically, Lara.

"Lara?" Y/N leaned forward again, squinting slightly to keep up with the flood of messages. "From KATSEYE?"

The comments answered immediately.

"Yeah, she’s in LA." "She said you’re her bias." "She mentioned she likes your tone and stage presence." "@lararaj, just look."

Y/N didn’t say anything. She just grabbed her phone and started typing.

A few seconds of silence passed. Her eyes locked onto the screen. Then she started scrolling, slowly.

For a good five minutes, there was nothing. No commentary. Just Y/N, completely locked in, quietly staring at her phone.

Her lips parted slightly. She blinked once. Then a quiet, almost breathless whisper escaped before she could stop it.

"Wow. She’s gorgeous."

The chat instantly lost it.

"She’s gone." "We’re watching her fall in real time." "HELLO???" "Down bad but respectfully." "This is the softest spiral ever." "She forgot we’re here."

Her mouth curved into a small, helpless smile. She tapped into a video post, watched it more than once probably, and only then did it seem to hit her that she wasn’t alone.

She set her phone down on the desk, screen facing down, and leaned back in her chair with a quiet, guilty sigh. One glance at the chat told her it was already too late.

"I hate you guys," she mumbled, tugging the sleeve of her hoodie over her hand and dragging it across her mouth like she could erase the past five minutes.

The teasing came fast.

"You’ve been quiet for three whole songs." "Are you okay? Blink twice if you’re in love." "Would you DM her?" "You’re smiling again."

Y/N laughed softly, sinking lower in her seat.

"I was just... looking."

More comments scrolled past.

"What if she sees this?" "Someone tag her." "It’s over for you, girl."

"Y’all..." she started, then stopped mid-sentence.

Her eyes froze on one comment.

hey?

The username next to it is @lararaj

She blinked. Once. Then again.

Silence.

The chat exploded.

"OH MY GOD." "NO WAY." "LARA ENTERED THE CHAT." "SHE’S HERE." "EVERYBODY STAY CALM." "SHE SAW EVERYTHING."

Y/N didn’t move. Her hands flew up to her face as she let out a soft, horrified laugh. Then she hunched forward over her desk like she could disappear into it, muttering,

"Nope. Nope. I’m ending this. I’m ending this right now."

She fumbled for her mouse, keeping her head low as her other hand stayed half-covering her face. Her ears were visibly pink. Her embarrassment was so real, it radiated through the screen.

"Thanks for hanging out," she said quickly. "Please don’t clip this. And Lara..." she hesitated, groaning softly, "if you’re here, I promise I’m not weird."

Then the screen cuts to black.

And the next morning, #ynra was trending in eight countries.

Pt.2

divider - @v6que

a/n - can you tell I'm obsessed with Rosé?, can't wait for "On My Mind" this Friday OMG. I’ve also been working on a few other one-shots, but none of them feel "fun" enough imo. Sooo if there’s anything you’d love to read or maybe tropes you’re into right now, let me know!

[kuidore]

More MiRomAbby HCs ✧ Mira x Romance x Abby ✧ KPOP Demon Hunters

✧ they have a tradition of having ‘sleepovers’ together. originally it was in Huntrix’ apartment when Rumi and Zoey weren’t gonna be there

✧ it’s because Mira hates sleeping in a house that’s totally empty. She can do it when she’s really tired, but for a while she would just pull all nighters cleaning or watching movies on nights she was alone in the apartment

✧ she doesn’t actually tell them this until the sleepover tradition is long-solidified. It was originally Romance’s suggestion, and they were both surprised at the time she’d been so on board with it

✧ She assumed they knew, they assumed she really liked sleepovers

✧ even when they’ve moved in together, the sleepovers continue

✧ they make a tent in the living room, go buy snacks and facemasks from the store, and they do exactly the type of stereotypical sleepover things you’d expect to see in any bad teen movie ever

✧ there have been pillow fights that resulted in hospital visits and them all desperately trying to assure doctors that they were not in danger or in an abusive relationship, they’re just clumsy and competitive and probably a bit too strong for their own good. Specifically Mira and Abby with the last one.

✧ Romance isn’t weak at all, he just is dating two abnormally muscular specimens

✧ on that note Mira also has abs, and Romance is obsessed with them

✧ Abby is horrible with his non-dominant hand and Mira’s fingers are shaky when she’s trying to do fine details, so Romance is the designated nail polish applicator whenever either of them need a new coat

✧ Mira and Romance fight over who gets to pluck Abby’s eyebrows

✧ Romance and Abby will both let Mira do their makeup whenever she asks. If she’s bored, wants to try out a new technique, whatever the reason.

✧ She will never let them do hers, no matter how much they beg

✧ Abby will randomly come up and start braiding their hair sometimes if he sees one of them sitting down engrossed in something. Romance eventually started asking him to braid it

✧ he specifically does it when it’s late at night and he knows one of them is up when they should be asleep, because within five minutes of him playing with their hair they both knock out like a light and Abby can just carry them

✧ Anytime he has to carry either Romance or Mira to bed he always tucks them in and kisses them on the forehead or the cheek.

✧ Sometimes they’ll pretend to be asleep just so he’ll do it. Abby always pretends not to notice

✧ the three of them have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with arcade dates

✧ Mira is the one who drags them to one for the first time inthe middle of a monday afternoon, because they heard the term on a TV show and Abby literally asked “What is an arcade?”

✧ Mira and Romance hold all the high scores in DDR. The entire leaderboard is just different misspellings and nicknames

✧ Mira is #1 and it doesn’t matter how much he tries, Romance *cannot* beat it

✧ Abby played once, he accidentally stomped too hard and one of the step buttons got stuck or broke or something. He didn’t wanna stick around to find out

✧ They basically ran out of there and have not been back to that specific arcade since. Abby was genuinely embarrassed about it. Mira and Romance still brought it up cackling, even years later

✧ Abby’s really good at skill-based ticket games, specifically skee ball. This extends to carnival games too. He’s the prize-winner of the relationship when they go to places with overpriced games and cheap stuffed animals

✧ Mira gets most of them ‘officially’, but Romance is the one who grabs one out of the top of their closet and naps on the couch with them instead of getting a regular pillow

✧ They can’t go on the bed because they already have too many stuffed animals. Mira loves them, and Abby and Romance insist on getting a trio of matching ones every time she finds one she wants

✧ She pretends to hate it but she actually thinks it’s stupid cute. She always goes out of her way to make sure they’re sitting together in their correct little groups of three.

✧ they have to make a rule about not buying stuffed animals without getting rid of others, because they were running out of space on the bed

✧ the rule gets broken a lot. They are all very attached to the stuffed animals, some because they actually meant something but some just because the three of them had gotten them together.

✧ They’re literally the three most sentimental mfers in the world, and it’s Mira who is actually the worst

✧ Mira keeps their movie and concert tickets and puts them in a scrapbook. she hesitates throwing out receipts if they’re from a date sometimes

✧ More often than not she’ll discreetly buy or grab some sort of tiny souvenier if they go somewhere together. Sometimes it’s a cute little fridge magnet, other times it’s the beautiful pink soy sauce bowls at a restaurant they went to or a flower she plucked as they were walking along

✧ speaking of dates, Abby and Romance both ‘make’ her hold their hand when they go on them

✧ She pretends to hate it and grumbles every time they hold out their hands like expectant children waiting to cross the street. But she’s always the one with the tightest grip.

✧ They have scary dog privilege. Because of Mira, not because of Abby or Romance.

✧ In fact they have the exact opposite and often get approached by women when they’re just out together without her.

✧ Mira finds it *hilarious* to watch them be flirted with. For all that they had directed towards her when they first met, they were both so easily flustered when they were the ones *being* flirted with (Mira takes advantage of this the second she learns about it - mostly when they’re at home)

✧ They don’t notice it’s even happening half the time until someone gets *really blunt*, and then they get incredibly embarrassed and basically beg her with their eyes to save them

✧ Usually she lets the suffer for a second to watch them squirm. just because it’s fun. But she always swoops in to rescue them anyways

[neinoko]

⌗ 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 ᵎᵎ ━━ 𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊

♱ pairing. megumi x fem!reader

♱ synopsis. a pair of retired delinquent junior high students are surprised to find themselves reunited at jujutsu tech, overtime, the pair find themselves falling back into old habits in each other’s company, resulting in an intimate explosion of emotions.

♱ tags. mutual pining, explicit language, suggestive language, underage drinking, use of marijuana, smut, piv, praise, teasing, orgasm denial, overstim, oral f&m receiving, brat taming, possessive megumi, fingering, squirting, creampie.

knock knock knock

you paused right before putting the joint to your lips. groaning, you set the freshly lit cone down and stood up, getting mentally prepared to explain the rapidly spreading scent of weed filling your dorm to what you worry is a teacher.

another small string of knocks comes from the door right as you reached it.

you swung the door open aggressively, irritated by whoever decided to bother you now of all times only to be met with the slightly surprised face of megumi.

you sighed out of relief. megumi was probably the best person who could be at your door right now.

megumi was your old friend from junior high who you used to get wasted with all the time before your aunt pulled you out of school for your bad behavior.

of course, you lost contact with him and hadn’t seen him since.

so you were very surprised to see him at jujutsu tech after all that time, you hadn’t even known he could see curses.

it had been a few days since you started at jujutsu tech, so you weren’t expecting to see him at your room, it had been about 2 years since the two of you last hung out together.

“smoking?” megumi asked, his deep and raspy voice snapping you back to reality.

he had that same irritated and tired expression he's always had, one hand scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “yeah, wanna join?” you asked without thinking, perhaps habit, but you almost immediately regretted it.

what if megumi had a change of heart and now miraculously hates weed and anyone who does it— “sure.”

you felt your shoulders relax as your worry ceased, not even realizing you were that nervous. stepping aside, you invite him in. you watch him step into your room, one hand in a pocket, with the other still scratching the back of his head as he looks around your room.

closing the door, you stare at him for a second, soaking in his figure.

he’s gotten taller and rather toned yet somehow still slender, noting how his hair was the same as it was all that time ago. you can’t ignore the feeling burning in your gut. a sensation you forgot existed, something you've only felt with him alone.

megumi looks back at you, those familiar aquamarine eyes squinting at you. “y’just gonna stand there?” he asks condescendingly before sitting on the floor in front of your coffee table.

embarrassed, you walk over and sit down adjacent to megumi, having stolen your spot. you watch as megumi picks up your customized lighter and admires it for a moment before commenting, “you still have this? i thought your aunt would have made you throw it away…” he trails off before picking up the joint and relighting it.

“yeah… well, i made sure to hide it from her well, so...” you trailed off, distracted, earning a hum in response.

staring hard, you watched as he held it between his blushed lips while lighting before taking a long puff, the end glowing, he was still well experienced.

you gulped, feeling rather awkward. it had been ages since you had shared a smoke, let alone been in each other’s company. megumi inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes as a peaceful expression melted into his features before blowing the smoke out, humming in satisfaction.

“here,” he said, handing the blunt to you.

you held the cone lightly between your fingers, bringing it to your mouth and finally being able to get the puff you had been dreaming about the whole day.

“y’started rolling yourself?” megumi asks, gazing down at your rolling tray and table littered with weed and raw papers. you nod in response, taking another hit before having to give it back up. megumi stares at you for a brief moment, watching intently as you enjoy a second long puff.

“i had to learn after we stopped talking, since you always did it for me,” you reminisce, handing the blunt back to him. “you’ve gotten pretty good,” he says before hitting again.

“i remember your attempts back then were so shit it was funny,” he chuckles a little at the thought, eyes staring off into the distance as he relishes in the memory.

you grunt, “shut the hell up,” you bite back playfully, a smile pulling at your lips as you sit up straight to reach for your rolling tray and toss it in front of megumi.

he looks at you with a little smirk, eyes meeting yours again and like it’s telepathy, he understands what to do. “roll for me again, for old times sake,” you say despite knowing he already knows what you want.

megumi reaches for the weed and raw paper and you decide to put on some music as he rolls a crisp joint like always, a wave of nostalgia hitting you like a truck.

giddy, you snatch the blunt and admire it before lighting it, relinquishing your first one to megumi. you smile widely at megumi, who stares at you through long lashes and a little smile.

you two sat in a comfortable silence for a minute before you got an idea, “want a beer?” you asked, standing up and approaching your fridge. “sure,” megumi responded and you walked back with two icy cold beers.

sitting down, you handed him the can and you both cracked open yours before doing a little cheers and subsequently chugging the whole can like it was tradition, because it really was.

slamming the can down, you winced in pain as the gas bubbled in your chest.

you let yourself fall back onto your palms, your arms the only thing holding you up and you reveled in the ecstasy that was megumi and all you did with him.

“let’s do a blowback,” megumi said suddenly.

your breath hitched and you shot up to look at megumi to see if he was serious.

all he did was stare back with a sloppy smile and glossy reddened eyes, looking rather hopeful as his eyes analyzed your reaction.

“for old times sake” he added, a persuasive tone lacing each syllable.

you were stunned at his suggestion, not because blowbacks are anything crazy, but because of what happened the first and last time you did one with him.

when you first heard about blowbacks, you were curious and decided you wanted to try one with megumi to see if it was as good as people say it is. however, you chose the worst possible night to try it.

you and megumi had been excessively drunk that night and as two hormonal teenagers, of course something as intimate as a blowback would get the both of you riled up. apparently, it was meant for couples to do and not friends.

that night ended in you being sent home by megumi’s older sister, tsumiki, after she walked in on you and megumi in the midst of an intense makeout session, with your clothes halfway off.

you blinked at him, he knew exactly what his words meant but it didn’t seem to bother him. “c’mon,” he said, pushing a little harder before you finally decided to give in.

you don’t know if it was the alcohol or the weed that made you say yes or made megumi even suggest it. “fine,” you say, huffing as megumi chuckles lowly with satisfaction, “there we go,” we drug out his words in a whisper.

you scoff, watching as he taps off the ash of his blunt into your ashtray before taking a long puff, staring at you with unreadable eyes the entire time.

you struggle to decide if he deliberately chose to use his blunt, which happened to be shorter.

you and megumi scoot closer together in a tense silence.

before you could lean in, megumi grabbed you by the chin with one hand and pulled you closer, holding your head still as he placed the join into your mouth with his other hand, slender fingers ever so slightly grazing your lips.

your fingers replace his on the blunt and both hands meet on either side of your jaw to steady you and keep you right where you are, his hands are hot on your face and you feel his soft fingers gently rubbing your ears.

like it’s instinct, your other hand comes up and lightly grasps megumi by his chin.

your eyes dart up to meet his, already staring right into your irises like he’s searching for something.

his eyes are soft yet dark and you can’t quite read the mysterious emotion lingering behind the deep hues of his irises. you study his features, more mature than back then and it seemed like he can only get more handsome the older he gets.

it’s like you’re staring at each other for an eternity before you feel him start to blow his smoke through the other end, making you suck in.

megumi does it slow, teasingly, all while maintaining eye contact and still rubbing your sensitive ears with the same look in his eyes like before, making your head spin and you feel like you’re about to go crazy.

suddenly, megumi lets out a soft moan, making a wave of electricity run up from your core and it hits you just how horny he’s making you, your whole body is on fire as wetness slowly pools in your panties.

he finally pulls away, one hand leaving your cheek and pulling the blunt from your lips, you breathe in and it hits you harder than you hoped it would. “good,” he cooes, making your face burn.

your eyes darted back and forth between megumi's, his breath heavier than before, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he licked his lips, his hand coming back to your face and continuing to rub your skin soothingly like he knows that hit you hard.

you’re almost panting now, and you’re trembling, you’re sure megumi notices because you watch as he lets out an amused exhale and his usual neutral demeanor has now fully shifted into amusement, faux concern.

“you okay?” he asks in a soft whisper, his hot breath hitting your skin, enough to make you shift in your seat.

you can only nod, lightly biting at your bottom lip and thighs pressing together for some kind of release. you could only pray megumi didn’t notice.

you notice megumi's eyes fall to your lips and lick his own in a slow bite before finally looking back at you with an expression clearer with what you now realize is yearning.

his pretty face and alluring eyes make you fully crumble, and before you could stop yourself, you slammed your lips against his.

it was sloppy—greedy, years of desire came flooding out all at once and before you could process any of it, megumi's tongue was in your mouth.

megumi's hands retreat from your face to land on your hips, pulling you onto his lap to straddle him, your arms wrapping around his neck and tangling your fingers in the hair above his nape.

his hands slowly traveled down your thighs, giving the plush flesh a gentle squeeze before reaching back up to rest on your ass, fingers slipping under your loose pajama shorts, hiking your panties higher up your ass to reveal more skin.

you gasp when you feel a much firmer squeeze followed by a smack, hard enough to make you jolt and yelp into megumi's mouth.

you turned your head slightly, deepening the kiss and uniting tongues sloppily, earning a needy groan from megumi.

pulling away, megumi looks at you in a daze, his lips glossy and swollen, cheeks red and hot, he was panting. megumi studies your expression as his fingers begin to gently fondle the pliant fat of your ass.

you lean back in for more, already missing the feeling of his lips against yours and the eager movements of his tongue.

a small moan escapes your lips as he pulls your body even closer to his and the sudden feeling of his growing erection beneath you only serves to make you wetter than before.

megumi's hands cautiously rock you back and forth on his clothed cock, positioned perfectly so that you can feel him growing harder against your pussy.

you felt your lower stomach tighten as your arousal builds, your clit pulsating, feeling like you could cum at any moment.

you grind your hips down in search of friction to ease your aching cunt, feeling his cock twitch angrily at the sudden movement, forcing a moan from megumi's lips.

you feel electricity shoot to your core, his moan making you even needier and you’re sure he can feel your wetness through his sweats, moaning as his dick catches your clit perfectly, making you shudder.

megumi's hips buck at the feeling of your cunt pulsating against his throbbing erection, making him hiss as he pulls away from your wet and sloppy lips, head dropping down to plant wet kisses along you collarbone and neck, biting and sucking your sensitive skin.

you whine at the feeling, rolling your hips so you could hear more of megumi's whines and grunts. "mmm... fuck," megumi pulls you to his chest, moaning into the crook of your neck. he was so close, he needed you to stop but couldn't bring himself to tell you.

like a blessing, you stop, noticing how his cock desperately twitches, begging for more. you slid off him and stood up, looking down at his antsy figure, seeing the tall tent in his sweats.

you cup megumi's face, his hands gliding up your legs, staring at you with the most desperate expression. you bent down and gave him a kiss before pulling away, reaching down and pulling megumi’s shirt off, revealing his toned abs.

"sit on the bed," you whisper, staring deep into his eyes.

obediently, he stands up, legs shaking ever so slightly from his arousal as he walked over to your bed and plopped down at the edge, spreading his legs expectantly, you smirk when you notice how his cock twitch through his pants.

you plant your hands on his knees while slowly sitting down between his legs, maintaining eye contact with megumi the whole time, amused at how oh so desperate he looked.

his breath hitched as you ran your hand over his hardened dick. megumi's hips bucked and his whole body twitched, a strained moaning tearing from his throat, his cock jerking as you palmed him with enough force to ruin him.

you giggled, watching mercilessly as a string of moans flew from his lips, exciting you.

you stopped to grab the hem of his sweats, megumi lifting his hips to help you pull them down, tossing them to the side, revealing the outline of his girthy cock and a stain of precum right at his tip.

you smirk, looking up at the blushing megumi, his hand over his face, trying to shield himself from the utter embarrassment he felt. teasingly, you leaned down and placed a kiss on his erection, megumi whining at the erotic gesture, "y-you're so lewd..."

"you can barely handle it," you hum, resting your cheek on his hot dick, loving the way it reacts to your touch, "and yet you're still begging for more," you taunt.

"screw you-nghh," megumi tries to bite back, but you cut him off with a firm lick up his shaft, jumping at the feeling of your hot wet muscle dragging along the underside of his cock. "i can't possibly give you more, i mean-look at you," you say provokingly.

"you're already about to cum and i've barely even touched you," you mock.

"p-please..." megumi muttered shakily, "i'm begging you, just please stop teasing me..." you couldn't help but laugh a little at his pathetic protest, and just to toy with him on more time, you plant a slow, torturous kiss on megumi's tip.

“fine,” you say, reaching for the elastic of his briefs, slowly pulling them off of him, your eyes trailing down the veins on his lower abdomen that led straight to his cock.

you pulled until his briefs revealed the trimmed hairs decorating his base to the beginning of his girthy shaft with pulsing veins wrapped around it all the way until his cock sprang free and revealed his red weeping tip, sticky with precum.

his balls we’re heavy and obviously ready to release his loads, tightening in excitement.

an embarrassed moan falls from megumi as you admired at the cock you fantasized about all these years. it was so much more impressive than you hoped.

you were practically drooling at the sight.

you pushed megumi’s thighs farther apart, moving your head until your breath hit his cock, making his leg twitch.

sticking your tongue out, you dragged it from his balls all the way to his leaky cockhead. “agh!” megumi yelped as you ran your tongue over his slit, gathering the salty precum on your tongue.

wrapping your lips around him, your swirled your tongue around his tip and sucked, staring at megumi with fiery eyes. “goddd, fuck,” megumi growled, head thrown back and chest rising and falling rapidly.

you pull back, lapping up the precum spilling from his tip before taking him in your mouth again, fully sinking down until your lips met his base. megumi cried out followed by high pitched whines as you bobbed your head.

“nghh… please, s-slow down! ‘s too much,” whimpered, hands coming down to fist your hair, tugging desperately in an attempt to slow you down. you stared up at him, teary eyes with drool collecting at the corners of your mouth, a sight that megumi wanted to burn into his memory.

he watched intently as he disappeared into the wet warmth of your mouth, your small moans vibrating against him.

you give megumi no time to breathe, coming up for one breath before slamming your mouth back down on his cock, reveling in the sensation of his veins pulsing, forcing your tongue out to lick his balls while thrusting your own face on his cock.

“god, you’re a fucking-hah! bitch,” strained moans following his insults as you gagged around his length, your throat tightening as you forced yourself to swallow down his thick girth.

“ahah-oh shiittt,” megumi’s eyes rolled back into his skull, his jaw was slack with a silent scream, the feeling of your mouth around him was like ecstasy and my god, he was so close already.

“oh fuck!” megumi’s cock stiffened even more, his balls tightening and he knew he was gonna cum.

suddenly, he felt you pull back right before you pushed him over the edge. whining like a bitch at the orgasm denial, all while an evil smirk plastered your face, watching as megumi’s cock pathetically jerked and twitched violently.

“ohh, that was a close one,” you mewl with a little giggle, resting your head on his thigh and staring up at him and like the bully you are, you ran your fingertips gently up and down his angry cock.

“i fuckin' hate you,” megumi said shakily, his tip pulsing and hot red, a thousand times more sensitive than before.

“aww, don’t say that,” you start, “you know you love me,” you whisper lowly, seductively, the inflection in your voice daring megumi to fight back.

“shut up, you’re gonna regret this,�� megumi grumbled, still embarrassed but now more irritated. you’re not allowed to tease him when you’re the one who was so horny earlier he could see you rubbing your thighs together for friction.

“oh yeah?” you say, egging him on. “make me regret it.”

your eyes widened, megumi’s hand now around your throat and yanking you up off your knees before he threw you onto the bed mercilessly, taking your place on the floor.

before you realized what was happening, your shorts and panties we’re torn from your lower half and discarded to the side, megumi’s hands grabbing your things and forcing your ass to the edge of the bed, parting your thighs to reveal your glistening cunt.

the cold of the air was quickly replaced by the feeling of megumi’s hot breath on your pussy. you watched shocked as he planted a kiss on either side before sinking his teeth into the fat of your thigh, his sharp teeth nearly drawing blood with how hard he bit down, a small punishment.

“you wanna be a brat?” megumi grumbled lowly, his eyes staring directly into your pussy, admiring every last bit of your perfect cunt he so desperately needed.

you gasped as megumi dipped his head down to lick between your folds slowly, only stopping to kiss your clit before pressing his lips against your pussy and lapping at your juices, moaning at the sweet taste of your essence, his hands coming up and slipping under your bra to fondle your breasts, pinching and twisting your hard and sensitive nipples.

he groaned into your pussy, your delicious taste and the scent of your sopping cunt making his cock pulsate. you don’t know how long he’s fantasized about this, every time he’d abuse his cock at the thought of ravaging your wet pussy and now it’s finally all his.

megumi flattened his tongue on your cunt and dragged it over your clit tortuously, making you jolt up and tangle your fingers in his black locks, and string of whines and mewls falling from your lips as he goes back and forth from dipping his tongue into your cunt and licking between your folds before stopping to suck your clit.

“o-oh-fuck! megumi!” you cry out, throwing your head back as you tugged on tufts of megumi’s hair, your thighs shaking as your hips twitched against his mouth.

megumi only growled in response, his tongue exploring your hot tight hole, the muscle pressing against your clenching walls before replacing it with two thick digits, curling his fingers right against your sweet spot, tongue flicking over your clit.

“agh-'s too much, s-stop!” you scream, the feeling of your sensitive bud being tortured by megumi’s determined tongue throwing you over the edge and you swore you were going to squirt but megumi didn’t let up.

“fuck-please!” you restarted to begging, clenching megumi’s hair as your whole body convulsed, your pleas falling to deaf ears as megumi continued relentlessly, fingers pumping faster, harder.

you squirmed as the impending feeling that you were going to both squirt and cum simultaneously hit you, your whole body tensing as you moaned.

“m-megumi, i’m gonna s-squirt!” you stuttered, fumbling your words as the feeling welled in your stomach. “don’t care,” megumi mumbled into your pussy lips, “you wanted this.”

“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean-“ your plea was cut off by a shriek tearing from your throat violently as megumi latched his lips onto your swollen clit and sucking, hard.

you came undone beneath megumi, back arched and squirting all while your pussy clenched and fluttered around megumi’s fingers, your juices coating megumis chin and dripping to the floor. your loud moans filling the room as megumi’s tongue continued to lick firm lines over your pussy, he was not about to let you go unpunished.

it was like his tongue got faster and stronger, his lick and sucks becoming more aggressive the more the squealed for him to knock it off until you were full blown screaming in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"f-fu-stop! meg-nghh," you writhed beneath him, not able to breathe and seeing stars.

he finally pulls away, looking up at you with glossy eyes, his lips and chin glazed in your juices, proud of how well he ruined you.

soft moans fell from your lips and you came down, falling back onto the mattress as megumi dipped his tongue back in for a few more kitten licks, chest rising and falling as you gasped for air.

megumi licked his lips and stood up, crawling onto the bed to hover over you, one hand running up the side of your naked body before reaching your bra and t-shirt, hiked up to reveal your breasts.

sliding your shirt off, megumi slides a hand under your body, fumbling with the clasp of your bra before finally undoing it, leaving you fully naked.

in somewhat of a daze, you reach up to glide your hand up his abs, admiring the body you had always longed for. megumi hummed at the feeling, his hand landing on yours and guiding it towards his face, placing the palm flush against his blushing cheek before planting a gentle kiss to the center of your palm.

you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, messy yet intimate and passionate, like your lips were made for each other.

megumi plants himself between your legs to lay flat against you as he deepens the kiss, snaking his arms beneath you and pulling you flush against him, his cock pressed against your sensitive pussy.

he moaned into your mouth as grinded his twitchy length against your folds, you whine each time his tip glides over your puffy clit, his precum adding to the sticky slick of your cunt.

impatient, megumi reaches to grab his cock, aligning his tip at your entrance. reluctantly pulling away from your lips, dropping his head beside your before turning to whisper in your ear, "i'm gonna put it in now, okay?" he asks sweetly, concern lacing his voice.

"mhm," you agree, still feeling the affects of your orgasm. megumi breathed heavily as he slowly thrusted his hips forwards, his swollen tip stretching you open, he was so thick you felt like he was going to tear you in half.

you gasp as he fully bottoms out, stretching you deliciously and stuffing your cunt full of his length, his cock twitching in your warm, tight walls that fluttered around him. "mm, fuck," megumi moaned, stilling himself to give you time to adjust.

"'s so big," you whine, straining to take all of him. "you okay baby?" megumi asks, mindlessly throwing a petname at you. "y-yeah," you stutter like an idiot, the fact that megumi is balls deep in you and the name he just called you fully processing and now you're suddenly embarrassed.

"'m gonna start moving now, okay?" megumi says caringly, his hips rolling eagerly. you can only moan in response, his tip already nudging your sweet spot. he can't take anymore waiting, he needs to fuck you the way you deserve.

you can feel every bulging vein as megumi pulls his hips back before snapping them forward with a loud clap, his hips making bruising contact with yours. you cry out and megumi groans deeply, his voice reverberating in your ears.

"shiiittt," megumi grunts, rolling his hips even rougher, loving how your cunt feels around him and the oh so beautiful whines falling from your lips.

megumi pistons into you, pulling out just to slam his cock so deep you can practically feel him in your stomach, each deapstroke making your eyes roll back. you clawed at his back with your head thrown back, mouth agape in a silent scream.

"fuck, so fucking tight," megumi growled, sitting up to angle his cock at your g-spot, earning a sensual moan from you.

the sight beneath him was so erotic, your naked body splayed beneath him, his cock shiny with your arousal, a creamy ring building around his base with each thrust, and your face twisting in pleasure.

"oh m'god, you're so fucking sexy," megumi muttered, lifting one of your legs to rest on his shoulder, holding your thigh and bringing a hand down to rub tight circles around your clit, itching to make you cum again so he can see that gorgeous face you make.

you mewl and claw at your bed sheets, his thumb rubbing your sensitive bud and making you twitch. his cock forcing it's way in and out of your tight cunt, bullying your cervix and stretching you soo deliciously.

"megumi please-agh-harder!" you beg needily, making megumi forcefully slam into you, your gummy walls swallowing his cock so well.

"takin' me like such a good girl," megumi says, planting kisses on your calf, "milking me so fucking good."

megumi starts to ramble, his orgasm creeping up on him, "you like that? you like the way my cock feels in your pretty little pussy? ngh! this pussy was made f'me."

"just f'me" "mine, all fucking mine"

megumi threw his head back, mumbling in deep moans about owning you, being all yours, and how he's never gonna let you go; his voice raising an octave the closer he gets to coming, his balls tightening and cock pulsating.

"godd, you're never gonna leave me," those words were enough to shoot electricity straight through you, making you clench around megumi's cock at how much his words turned you on.

pussydrunk, megumi cries out, hips stuttering. "say you're mine," he starts, slurring his words, "say you're all fucking mine."

"fuck! i'm all yours!" you squeal, his thrusts sloppy but rough. "say it, say you belong to me," he says in a strained moan. "i belong to you," you obey, too fucked stupid to refuse, your lower belly tightening and pussy pulsating. "who? hah-who do ya' belong to, baby?" megumi demands, his hips stuttering. "megumi~! ngh, i belong to megumi-agh!"

you fall apart beneath megumi in a scream, pussy clamping down on his cock and milking him for all he's worth as his cock twitches and jerks violently as he yells out, falling on top of you as his hips twitch and thrust into you as shoots thick ropes of cum deep inside your cunt as your orgasm waves over you violently.

the feeling is euphoric, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you clawed at megumis back, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him deeper.

"fuck!" megumi growls with one last thrust, burrying his cock as deep as he can and dumping the last of his hot sticky cum in your pussy, a string of curses and moans following.

sweaty and gasping as you both come down from your orgasms, loosening your grip on his body as he lifts his hips, pulling out his softening cock.

megumi's tense figure relaxed into yours, small whimpers and pants still leaving him as he came down from his orgasm, holding on to you as he rested his face next to yours.

absolutely spent, you both stayed like that in a comfortable silence before megumi turned his head and kissed the shell of your ear lovingly, "i love you," he said hesitantly, and you can't tell if the pounding heart beat you're hearing is yours or his.

you turned your head to look into megumi's, wondering if you heard right or if the weed and alcohol were playing cruel tricks on you. his eyes darted back and forth between yours expectantly, his cheeks still dusted pink.

"i love you too," you finally say, something you've been waiting to say for years.

you feel your chest tighten with doubt but you're quickly eased by the megumi leaning in and placing a loving kiss on your lips, smiling as he pulls away with glossy eyes like he's about to cry.

"i really love you," you reiterate, feeling like you hadn't made yourself clear enough. "i love you too, baby," "you're sure?" "yes, i'm all yours,"

"and you're all mine."

@ -NEINOKO ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[jj-one]

you asked for hard thoughts so i felt the need to pull through 😌😌

ik this is probably a popular thing, but jisung in literally any public/semi public setting. the initial hesitation before the horniness wins out?? feral.

pulling him into a bathroom without any warning? pushing him into a camera booth at the mall and planting yourself on his lap? letting your hand creep far to high on his thigh when no one is looking? yes. yes please.

ANYWAYS THATS MY THOUGHTS OK THANK YOU BYEEEEE 🫶🫶

one thing about me is i love public sex specifically bc of the elements of it being risky and making sure not to get caught so ily for this 🤭 anyways let’s goooo

jisung’s most definitely not the strongest soldier when it comes to being able to resist you— especially when you’re the one continuously provoking him. he notices everything. from your small touches here and there to the side glances you keep making every so often, it pushes him to a point of no return. it makes his head spin. and all he wants is to bury his cock so deep in you until neither of you can think a single thought anymore.

you knew exactly what you’re doing, too. the way you giggle at nothing, fingers trailing along his arm like you’re testing just how far you can go. the way you press a little closer every time you two walk past a store window, pretending to glance at something inside, but it’s him you’re watching in the reflection. his jaw tightening. eyes narrowing. the growing tension in his frame each time your hand almost brushes his belt.

so, really, it should be no surprise when he yanks you into the photo booth at the far end of the mall, drawing the curtain closed with shaky fingers, the low hum of the screen flickering to life just as you land in his lap. the confined space is barely wide enough to hold you both, and yet, you manage to straddle him with ease, your knees pressing into the bench, thighs caging him in like you planned this.

“you’re unbelievable,” he mutters, breath warm against your neck, voice caught between disbelief and pure hunger. his hands already gripping your sides, holding you down against him like you might float away otherwise. you only smile, that wicked little curve of your lips that makes his cock twitch in his jeans, and let your hand creep far too high on his thigh. knuckles brushing the outline of his hardening length, slow enough to make him shiver.

“and yet you’re doing nothing to stop me.”

jisung hisses between his teeth, head falling back briefly against the booth wall as you palm him fully. one arm fastened around your waist while the other fumbles to tap “start” on the booth screen, pretending you’re just two sweethearts taking goofy photos. four flashes. that’s all you get. four timed photos to act like you’re normal, like you’re not pressed against his bulge, grinding slow and heavy, mouthing at his neck like it’s a private room instead of a public setup tucked behind the food court.

but his hips buck up the moment your grip tightens, and suddenly you’re rolling your hips in his lap like you’ve forgotten you’re still technically out in public.

“you keep that up,” he growls low, lips dragging across your jaw, feeling hotter as his tongue flicks the shell of your ear, “and m’gonna make you sit here dripping while we walk out of this damn mall.”

you only hum in response, leaning in like you want that. like you want to push him to the edge, right here where anyone could walk past and pull that curtain aside. you kiss him deep and slow, not sweet— completely feral. tongue sliding into his mouth, moaning low as your body rocks harder into his.

he groans into the kiss, fingers digging into your ass now, shifting you just right so your clothed core presses straight into his zipper. “f-fuck, baby,” he gasps, voice barely holding steady. “you’re gonna make me ruin these jeans.”

you tilt your head innocently, lips brushing his cheek now, and whisper like the little minx you are, “so don’t wait.”

and when the third photo snaps, you’re both already too far gone— half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, your hips grinding with intention now. anyone walking by would think it’s just a couple being a little too handsy.

but inside that curtain, jisung’s losing it. and you? you’ve never looked more satisfied than when he’s unraveling underneath you.

[meiplays]

🧨 “Whipped & Wrecked”

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader

Rating: 💥 SFW (but spicy, lap grinding, thigh riding, hickeys, hair pulling, worship, possessive & feral Ben energy)

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: Intense lap grinding, thigh riding, hair pulling, whimpering, kissing, marking/neck kisses/hickeys, teasing, possessive behavior, begging Ben (softly), whipped energy, reader in Ben’s shirt, praise, mutual obsession, canon Ben attitude

Summary:

All Ben wanted was to hold you in his lap. Just cuddle you for a while. But you knew exactly what you were doing the second you started grinding your hips over his thigh. Turns out, Soldier Boy isn’t as in control as he likes to act—especially not when you’ve got your fingers in his hair and your lips on his throat.

A/N: this is probably the spicest thing I've written (as what I'm comfortable with) first time writing soldier boy! Hope you enjoy xo

“C’mere, baby. Just wanna hold you for a while.”

That’s how it started.

You were curled up in bed, wearing nothing but one of Ben’s old shirts—soft, worn-in, and way too big. He was leaning against the headboard, dog tags still hanging against his chest, arms open, eyes soft in a way no one else ever got to see.

And you melted for it. Always did.

You crawled into his lap without hesitation, straddling his thick thighs, resting your body against his like it was the most natural thing in the world. His arms came around you instantly, solid and warm and possessive. He let out a quiet breath, one of those rare, content ones, like just having you there grounded him.

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about this all week.”

His voice was lower than usual, warm against your skin, and it made you shiver in his arms. You could feel his hands rubbing slow, lazy circles on your lower back, fingertips brushing just beneath the hem of the shirt. Nothing urgent—just comfort.

But you weren’t exactly behaving.

You shifted in his lap. Just a little. Enough to feel the way his muscles tightened beneath you. Enough to make him pause mid-breath.

“Careful,” he warned, but his grip on your hips got firmer. “You’re in dangerous territory, sweetheart.”

You smiled against his throat. “I’m just getting comfortable.”

Another shift. This time, you let your thighs tighten around his. The hem of the shirt slid higher as your body naturally moved over his lap, creating friction that neither of you could ignore.

Ben groaned, deep and low. His hands flew from gentle to gripping, fingers digging into your hips as his jaw clenched hard.

“Jesus,” he muttered, his voice rough now, “you tryin’ to kill me?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, playful. “What if I am?”

His eyes darkened.

“Don’t play with me, doll,” he rasped, rocking his hips just barely upward. “You know exactly what you’re doin’. You sit here, all sweet in my shirt, like you’re just here for cuddles—and then you start ridin’ my thigh like it’s an accident.”

“Maybe it is,” you whispered, grinding slow against the thick muscle beneath you. You could feel how hard he was breathing, how tense his hands had gotten. “Maybe I just like being close to you.”

“Bullshit,” Ben growled, dragging you closer. “You know how goddamn sensitive I am to you. You start movin’ like that, and I forget how to breathe.”

You rolled your hips again, this time firmer—grinding right against the curve of his thigh, where his muscles flexed under your heat. Ben’s head fell back against the headboard with a guttural sound.

“F**k, baby…”

His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movement before he even realized what he was doing.

“Keep goin’,” he muttered. “You’re gonna ruin me. Might as well finish the job.”

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his jaw, whispering sweet and sinful things in his ear as you rolled your hips over and over again, using the thick, strong muscle of his thigh like a toy built for you. His dog tags jangled softly between your chests as he tried to hold himself back.

“Takin’ my f***in’ breath away,” he groaned. “Look at you—makin’ a mess on my leg, actin’ all innocent. You know you’re the only one I’d ever let do this, right?”

You nodded, panting now, clutching his shoulders for leverage. “I know.”

His hands slipped under your shirt, up your spine, pulling you flush against him. His thigh tensed again—harder—and your body shivered in his lap.

Ben kissed you rough, possessive, like he was trying to remind you exactly who had you. When he pulled back, his eyes were blown wide with heat.

“You ride me like that again,” he muttered, “and I swear to God, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

You grinned, grinding once more. “That the plan.”

Ben let out a strangled noise—something between a growl and a prayer—and pulled you tighter against him, burying his face in your neck.

“Whipped,” he mumbled. “I’m f***in’ whipped for you.”

You stroked the back of his neck softly, kissing his cheek as you moved with him. “I know, baby. And I love it.”

You didn’t even realize how far you were pushing him.

Not until you tugged on his hair—and he whimpered.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

Just a soft, helpless sound that slipped from his lips the second your fingers tangled into that thick mess of his hair and gave it a firm pull.

Ben froze. His breath caught. Then his eyes rolled back just a little like he’d just been sucker-punched straight in the nerves.

You stilled in his lap, straddling his thigh in nothing but his shirt, lips parted in surprise. “Wait… you like that?”

Ben groaned—deep and rough like he hated how much he loved it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, voice barely holding together. “You’re gonna break me.”

You tugged again, slower this time, watching his reaction.

Ben shivered. You felt it under your hands. He dropped his head back, his lips parted, a low sound catching in his throat.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, “you really do like your hair pulled.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Instead, his hands snapped up to your hips and dragged you harder against his thigh—his grip bruising, jaw clenched, eyes wild with hunger.

“Baby…” His voice was gravel. “You keep doin’ that, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

You rolled your hips slow, dragging the heat of your core over the thick muscle of his thigh again and again, your thighs clenching as he flexed beneath you.

“Then don’t,” you breathed. “Let go.”

That was it. That was the match to gasoline.

Ben’s mouth crashed against yours, hot and heavy, hands gripping like he needed you to stay there—like you’d disappear if he wasn’t touching every inch of you. His kisses were everywhere: your lips, your jaw, your neck—worshipping.

“You drive me f***in’ insane,” he growled between kisses. “You—this—this sweet little thing sittin’ in my lap like you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me.”

“I do,” you whispered, fingers in his hair again, pulling hard.

Ben gasped against your skin—and then whimpered again. Raw. Real. The kind of sound he’d never make for anyone else.

“You like that?” you asked, teasing against his ear. “You like being pulled around like a good boy?”

“F***,” he choked out, rutting his thigh upward under you so hard it nearly made you moan. “I’ll be whatever the hell you want me to be, baby. Just don’t stop.”

He started kissing down your neck again, slower now. Not rough—needy. His tongue flicked over your pulse, his lips suckling a spot just under your jaw until you gasped. Then he did it again. And again.

“Gonna mark you up,” he mumbled, dazed. “All over. So you never forget who you belong to.”

“You’re the one who’s whipped,” you panted, grinding shamelessly against his thigh. “You’re the one who begs when I pull your hair—”

“I do not beg—”

You yanked again. Harder.

Ben whimpered. Louder this time. His eyes squeezed shut. His hips jerked upward under you like he couldn’t stop.

“Okay,” he gasped. “Maybe I do.”

You laughed breathlessly, but he wasn’t done with you.

He flipped you gently—fast but controlled—until you were on your back and he was hovering over you, his thigh still wedged perfectly between yours. You tried to protest, but his lips were already on your neck again, his hands sliding under your shirt, skin on skin.

“You make me weak,” he whispered. “You hear me? You ruin me every time you climb into my lap like that, grind on me like you own me.”

“I do own you,” you teased, breathless.

Ben grinned against your collarbone, and you felt his teeth graze your skin right before he sucked another mark into you, just beneath the line of your throat.

“Damn right, you do,” he muttered. “So let me show you what being yours means.”

He trailed kisses down your chest, slow and heavy, tongue flicking, lips sucking, worshiping every inch of skin he could reach without going too far. You tugged his hair again just to feel him twitch. Just to hear that sound again—the little gasp he couldn’t hide.

“You’re evil,” he muttered against your ribs.

“You love it.”

“Damn right, I do.”

He came back up, kissing you breathless, tasting every inch of your lips like he needed them to live. His hands never stopped roaming—your waist, your thighs, your hips—everywhere he could hold you down and pull you close.

When he finally slowed, both of you were panting, chests heaving, still tangled together on the bed. Your shirt had ridden up high. His sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips. But neither of you had crossed the line—yet.

“Ben?” you murmured, brushing his hair from his forehead.

His eyes cracked open, and for once, he looked… soft.

“Yeah, baby?”

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You know I’ve never seen you like this with anyone else. You’re not just mine. I’m yours, too.”

His throat worked like he was trying to swallow the lump in it. One of his hands slid up, curling around your face, thumb brushing your cheek.

“I don’t deserve you,” he rasped.

You kissed him again, slow and lingering. “Too late. You’ve got me.”

He pulled you into his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapping protectively around your waist as he held you like he was afraid the world would take you away.

And you laid there like that—on top of him, tangled, flushed, and ruined—while his fingers idly stroked your back, his lips pressing lazy kisses into your temple.

Every few seconds, you tugged his hair just to hear that helpless little whimper again.

And Ben?

He let you.

Because he was yours. Whipped, marked, and happy about it.

[steddieas-shegoes]

three things

for @switcheddieweek prompt 'spit' (a little) and 'non-verbal negotiation' (mostly this one tbh)

rated e | 5395 words | also on ao3 | cw: under-negotiated kink | tags: switch eddie, switch steve, friends with benefits, bisexual steve, bondage, banter, frottage, spit kink, anal fingering, anal sex, dirty talk, choking, not actually unrequited feelings, open ending but we can play clue together

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve’s jittery and it’s making Eddie fucking jumpy. From the second he walked in the door, Steve’s been bustling around, moving things he doesn’t need to, taking sips of Eddie’s drink, knocking into things. Eddie’s ready to tie him to a chair and—

Well, that’s an idea.

Just as he considers acting on it, Steve groans.

“Do you think I’m too high strung?” He asks as he paces the floor anxiously.

“In this moment or in general?” Eddie has to tread carefully here. Whatever’s got Steve on edge like this needs to be taken seriously. One wrong word and Steve will shut down and it’ll be a long fucking night of trying to pull him back in.

“Like, always? Or most of the time.” Steve stops pacing, sets his gaze on Eddie where he’s sitting comfortably at the kitchen table. “Do you think I think too much about little things?”

Eddie’s brow furrows. Where the hell is this even coming from? Steve’s not usually high strung. He gets anxious sometimes, like when he knows they have to do their annual check in with the government doctors, but that’s not unreasonable. If he knows one of the kids is flying, he gets a bit nervous, but Eddie just keeps him distracted as best he can and it passes.

“Suzie mentioned that sometimes I get stuck on small problems and they ruin my day,” he continues. “Do you think that’s true?”

Suzie is going to school to be a therapist and likes to psychoanalyze her friends. It’s equal parts fascinating and annoying, especially when she talks to Steve. He takes everything she says seriously, even though she isn’t licensed yet and probably shouldn’t be giving her professional opinion to him anyway.

“I think that you do what every normal human does sometimes and catastrophize a little when you worry. It’s probably the trauma,” Eddie shrugs and stands, moving close to him, but leaving him space to get away if he needs to. He’s acting a bit like a cornered animal right now. The last thing Eddie needs to do is actually corner him. “If you think it’s harming you, maybe you could talk to a licensed therapist.”

“Suzie’s as good as licensed.” Steve folds his arms across his chest. “And she said I rely too much on you.”

“Did she?” Eddie scoffs. Steve doesn’t. Steve doesn’t rely on fucking anyone. He’d be better off if he did rely on someone more. “What made her come to that conclusion?”

“Apparently I talk about you too much. She thinks you’re my only friend.” Steve sighs. “Now that I say it out loud it does sound wrong. I have friends.”

“No shit.” Eddie grins, leans in until he can smell the cologne Steve always wears to work. “I’m just your best friend.”

“Other than Robin.”

“Other than Robin,” Eddie agrees. He straightens his back and nods his head back towards the chair he was sitting in before. “You wanna sit while I heat up leftovers?”

“Oh, not sure I can stay.” Steve suddenly won’t meet his eyes. “I uh, I have a date.”

Eddie ignores the way his heart clenches in his chest, painfully tightening. Steve’s still antsy, he can tell. He’s gonna go to his apartment and pace and worry until he has to pretend to be fine for his date. And the date won’t realize he’s faking it, that he’s pretending to be fine when he’s not. Eddie can’t let that happen.

“You should cancel.”

Steve gives him a look, one that says he knows what Eddie’s doing and he isn’t gonna fall for it. He has before, though. He probably will this time.

“She’s nice. I’m not gonna cancel just for us to fuck around. What about that guy you saw last month?” Steve snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the quite frankly unremarkable guy Eddie sucked off at a club. “Jeremy? Joey? James?”

“Isaac.”

“I was close!” Steve claps.

“Alphabetically, sure,” Eddie groans. “He was boring. Didn’t even fuck my face when I told him to. He’d probably run screaming if I showed him my plug.”

“I almost ran screaming when you showed me that thing,” Steve laughs. “I’m gonna head out. You find someone more interesting than Isaac.”

Eddie could beg. He’s done it before.

He could go along with it and wait for Steve to inevitably show back up at his place later when he didn’t get what he wanted from whoever this woman is. He’s done that before, too.

He could turn on the waterworks and guilt him into staying. That’s not something he’s tried before. Bound to work, though.

Before he can muster up the fake tears, Steve is walking around him and staring at the chair.

He looks back at Eddie and squints, then back at the chair.

Eddie waits because that’s all he can do. Steve’s either gonna leave and go on his date or he’s gonna stay and they’ll fall into their comforting pattern of being the only people who understand what the other needs.

Steve walks to the phone on the wall, grabs a piece of paper from his wallet, and angrily dials.

“Julie! Hey!” Eddie rolls his eyes, mouths Julie and makes kissy lips while Steve’s back is to him. “Sorry this is so last minute, but they need me to close tonight. Maybe next week?”

Eddie watches as Steve’s shoulders slowly relax. Julie’s probably letting him off the hook, thinking he’s such a hard worker for staying when asked. Maybe she thinks he’ll be up for a promotion, making the big bucks soon.

Eddie knows that Steve’s gonna fuck him up tonight.

He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation, only focusing back in when the phone drops back on the hook and Steve laughs.

“You should get the ropes.”

It’s not a suggestion as much as a demand, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to do it. Steve doesn’t like getting tied up, not even if Eddie’s the one doing it, but he loves tying intricate knots around Eddie’s wrists and ankles, sometimes his chest and neck if they have time. It helps ground him, keeps his mind from wandering into anxious territory.

It’s perfect for tonight.

Eddie keeps his ropes in his closet, hung up so they don’t get tangled together. He grabs all of them, in too much of a rush to make a decision about which ones to use.

Steve’s pulled the chair to the center of the room and he’s wringing his hands together like he needs something in them. Robin mentioned getting him a keychain that doubled as a silent clicker so it would keep his hands busy when he needed it, but Steve turned it down. Maybe Eddie can convince him later.

After.

Eddie sits, holds the ropes in his lap, and waits.

Steve circles him like a predator circles their prey before they attack. He’s hot and his heart is racing, and he hopes that he can be forgiven for being selfish enough to get Steve to stay.

He kneels in front of Eddie, grabs his face in his hands, and grins.

“You wanted this.”

It’s true. But he never said it explicitly. Steve just knows. It’s why they work so well.

“I wanted you.”

It’s a bit too honest for them, but Steve doesn’t stop to take Eddie’s words in. He’s up and grabbing the rope from his hands, shoving his shoulder back until he’s almost worried it’ll bruise. Eddie’s pale and Steve’s rough and as much as he likes the reminders of what they do, he’s going to visit Wayne this weekend and doesn’t wanna risk him seeing it.

“Hey. Easy,” Eddie says with just enough bite to make Steve pause. “No bruises.”

Steve nods, apologizes, but continues his work. Eddie lets him.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

There’s something peaceful about letting Steve tie him up, making him helpless in the middle of his own apartment. He knows he’s safe, they’re both safe. He doesn’t have to feel the emptiness inside that he feels when Steve’s not with him.

He feels full, even without the plug.

“Eddie. Look at me.”

Eddie does. His eyes feel heavy for a moment and then he sees how dark Steve’s eyes are, how blown his pupils have gotten. How long has Steve been working on him? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

“Too tight?” Steve asks, for what must not be the first time. Eddie shakes his head. “Okay. I’m gonna grab the plug.”

Eddie’s not sure why, but he knows it’ll come to him eventually. He nods and waits. Steve’s only gone for a moment, familiar enough with where Eddie keeps everything to be quick.

He sets the lube and plug on the table, then turns to Eddie.

Eddie’s a bit in love with him, he has to admit. It’s pretty terrible to be in love with your best friend, especially when it’s a guy who has made it pretty clear he’s never gonna be ready for a relationship with any man, let alone Eddie.

But he drops everything to do this with him, and he comes here right after work even when he’s exhausted, even if it’s just for a few minutes, even though it’s two miles out of his way. He sleeps in Eddie’s bed when they get too high for him to get back to his place, curled up into his side or around his back. He uses Eddie’s soap in the shower and wears Eddie’s shirt when he forgets to bring the clothes he keeps here home to wash them. He leaves notes around the apartment for him to take his meds and to call Dustin and take out the trash. He does everything with love and it’s hard for Eddie to separate it sometimes.

Steve straddles his lap and waits.

It’s Eddie’s turn now. Focus.

“Gonna be good and listen to me?” Eddie asks him, voice rough.

Steve shivers in his lap. “Yeah. Tell me.”

Eddie uses all his strength to sit up a bit straighter, appear bigger. Steve loves when he’s tied up and bossing him around. He loves being told what to do while Eddie’s like this.

“You gonna stay dressed?” Eddie asks, not caring much either way. Might be hard to get the plug in, but they don’t have to do anything with it if Steve changed his mind.

“For now.”

“Then touch yourself.”

Eddie watches as Steve runs his hands down his chest, skims the edge of his shirt, slides them underneath. He wants him to strip it off, wants to see the way his nipples harden under his own touch, the way his chest hair darkens as sweat beads on his skin the more worked up he gets. He doesn’t make any noise when he pinches his own nipple, just lets out the breath he must’ve been holding for a while.

“Now the other one.”

Steve listens, stays quiet and obedient, just the way Eddie likes him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asks, but he already knows it does. Steve’s nipples are sensitive. He loves having Eddie’s teeth on them, tugging and sucking them into his mouth.

“Yeah, but I want more.”

“Greedy, but fine.” Eddie glances behind him, sees the bottle of lube. “You planning on using that or no?”

Steve follows his gaze, hands never leaving his chest. “The lube or the plug?”

“Either. Both.”

Steve shivers. “Maybe. Rather you do it later.”

Eddie’s not opposed. He likes watching Steve, but if he gets to have his hands on him later, have his plug in him, then he can wait.

“You gonna get yourself off like this then?” Eddie thinks he might be able to if they play their cards right. He’s never come just from playing with his nipples, but it doesn’t seem impossible. He’s riled up right now. On edge in every way. It might be time to try it out.

“Don’t think I can,” Steve admits, pouting his bottom lip out. It should look ridiculous, but it makes heat coil in Eddie’s stomach. He wants to bite it, suck it into his mouth and taste the spit pooling on his tongue. He wants to make him bleed so he can taste that too, find out if it’s as sweet as the rest of him. “Not without a hand on me.”

“I think you can.” Eddie laughs when Steve groans at him. “C’mon. I’ve seen you do harder things. Find a way.”

“Don’t have to be mean. I canceled a date for you,” Steve bites out, pinching his nipples again and scooting forward in Eddie’s lap. His dick is hard in his jeans, but he’s not gonna find what he needs with the way Eddie’s chest and stomach are pulled back with the ropes. Not unless he gets real close. “I’m not doing it all by myself.”

“You tied me up,” Eddie snorts. “I assumed that meant you were gonna do it yourself.”

Eddie’s own dick is straining in his jeans. It’s getting a bit uncomfortable, but he knows Steve will be pissed if he asks him to unbutton his pants. He’s supposed to sit here and take it, and Steve will sit there and do what he says. That’s how this works.

“Sit still then.” Eddie hasn’t moved, but he wants to now that Steve’s made the demand. He scoots even further up, so his dick is rubbing against Eddie’s stomach. It’d feel better if he took his pants off, but he’s stubborn. “I’m gonna get off like this.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince Eddie.

“I’ll wait.” Eddie smirks when Steve narrows his eyes at him. “Go ahead. I’ve got all night.”

His legs are a little numb from being tied and having Steve’s weight on them like this. The dining room chair isn’t exactly comfortable to begin with. He’s a little shocked it’s holding both their weight like this.

Steve ruts forward once, twice, groans before he drops his head to Eddie’s shoulder. He isn’t gonna get as much friction as he wants like this, but he can get the job done.

“That’s it. You just need something to rub your dick on, huh? Anything would work,” Eddie teases, voice low. “So desperate.”

He tries to sound annoyed or uninterested, but he knows he sounds a bit awed. Steve’s hips move faster as he talks, the room gets hotter, and the air gets thicker. Eddie gets impossibly harder in his jeans. If it’s possible to break a zipper, he may do it any minute.

Steve whimpers as he bites down on Eddie’s shoulder. He’s a bit sweaty from the day, and he knows his shirt can’t smell or taste good. Steve doesn’t seem bothered.

“Can’t believe you tied me up just to hump me like a dog,” Eddie grins around the words. “You know there’s better ways to do this.”

Steve pauses in his movements, but doesn’t sit up or move his face away from Eddie’s neck. It’s all Eddie needs to know that he can keep going like this.

“So stubborn. I should make you use the wall next time.” Steve whimpers and ruts forward. “You’d love it. I could sit here and watch. Probably hurt after a while, huh?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything. Eddie smiles to himself.

“You like when it hurts though. That’s why you can’t stop what you’re doing now.”

“Mhm. Like it when you hurt me, though.”

Eddie bites his lip. God, he does love hurting Steve. He’s so good at being hurt. Takes it so good and then gives it right back to Eddie as if he isn’t covered in bruises and scars left by Eddie’s teeth and fingers.

“I like it too,” Eddie allows himself to say. It’s important to keep the boundaries there, but sometimes he can be vulnerable. If Steve starts it, he can follow. “You gonna let me touch you?”

“Maybe in a minute.”

“You’re only hurting yourself, baby.” Eddie rolls his shoulders, breath hitching at the way it tugs the ropes tighter around his wrists for a moment. Baby is allowed. Steve said it first months ago, one of the first times they did this, and it stuck. It’s fine, especially when it’s slightly mocking like this. “I could make it feel so good. You know I take care of you.”

Steve tenses, almost like he’s going to come, then groans and pulls his head back, looking at Eddie with wide eyes.

Eddie looks back at him, calculating, trying to get a read on what’s going on in his head.

He’s still unsure what truly caused his panic earlier, other than Suzie’s words. Something had to, though. He’s still sifting through it, not quite over the tension.

And then it hits him.

His date.

Steve hasn’t had a real date in months. He’s definitely done questionable things in bar bathrooms, but he hasn’t taken a girl out since…

Since they started this.

Eddie rushes to think back to what Suzie told him, thinks about things Steve probably left out of his explanation. How quick he was to cancel the date once he knew what was on offer.

Steve struggles with being the one to call the shots. Not just in bed, but always. He always asks others to choose what they do, and usually tries to leave another adult in charge as often as he can.

Other than life or death situations, Steve Harrington likes to follow someone else’s lead.

This thing they have, whatever it may be, it works. Eddie calls the shots a lot, but there’s still times when Steve’s in charge. Like now, when Eddie’s tied up, completely at his mercy. He may be encouraging Steve to do things, but he’s not the one making the decisions, not really.

It’s Steve’s safe place to call the shots. Eddie’s his safe space. Not this girl he was going to take to dinner or a movie or back to his place.

“Hey.” Eddie wants his hands free, but it’s selfish. His mind is reeling as he thinks of a way to do this without making Steve lose the control he has. “You’re gonna do something for me.”

It’s another demand, but he knows Steve will listen.

“What?” Steve asks, flushed and struggling not to find any more friction.

“Tell me three things you want me to do.”

Steve’s shaking and Eddie doesn’t know if it’s from being so close to the edge or from nerves or from being overwhelmed with all of it at once. He’s never looked so unsure when they’re doing this, not even the first time when they hadn’t figured out how to communicate yet.

“Like…now?”

“I want you to answer now, but it can be stuff you want me to do later.”

Everything shifts again; A whine marks the moment that Steve gives in.

“Can you-”

“No.” Eddie leans in, gets close enough that he can feel Steve’s breath against his own lips. “Don’t ask me. Tell me.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath, closes his eyes, and relaxes his shoulders. Eddie watches, waits patiently. His legs are starting to get tingly, almost painfully so. The feeling comes and goes as Steve shifts in his lap, moving weight from one leg to the other and then settling on both.

“Open me up.” Steve says so quietly Eddie almost asks him to repeat it. “I want four fingers.”

“Four? You sure?” Eddie’s never given him four. Steve’s never given himself four as far as he knows.

“Yeah. I can take it.”

“Okay. That’s one,” Eddie wants to kiss him, but he won’t. He can’t. Even if he weren’t tied up, he wouldn’t. “Another one.”

“I want you to fuck me.” Steve pauses like he’s going to say more. Eddie waits again, less patiently now that he knows what the next hour might entail. “In your bed.”

The silence that follows his request is louder than their breaths, louder than the thud, thud, thud of their hearts beating in their chests.

They don’t do that. They do a lot of shit, but they don’t do that. They fuck on the couch, the chair, against the wall, the shower, the floor. Never the bed. Not Eddie’s, not Steve’s.

It’s like kissing, in a way: silently forbidden.

Steve tenses when Eddie doesn’t respond. He starts to scoot back to get up, but Eddie lets out a noise close to a whine. He wants to move his hands, grip Steve’s hips so hard that there’s no way he doesn’t have bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning.

“What’s the third thing?” Eddie asks, making sure he knows he needs to stay right where he is.

Steve doesn’t say it. He’s pushing Eddie, seeing how far Eddie will push back. He could get up right now, go to Eddie’s bed, and they’ll forget all about the third thing. Eddie will let it be left in this room, never to be mentioned again.

“I’ll tell you later.”

He should insist on it now, but he won’t. Steve’s taking the reins now.

“Untie me.”

Mostly.

Steve works quickly, letting the ropes fall to the floor as Eddie slowly moves his limbs to get feeling back. He shivers when Steve’s fingers brush against his wrist, pulse speeding up under his careful touch.

“Anything hurt?” Steve asks, checking in the way Eddie showed him to the first time. Eddie taught him a lot of things. “Need anything?”

“No, baby, I’m good,” Eddie smiles, a real one, a soft one. Something almost too gentle for what they’re doing. “Let’s get in bed.”

He almost forgets to grab the lube and plug on the table behind him, but remembers when he watches Steve adjust himself in his pants and awkwardly half-waddle out of the room. He wants to use them when they’re done, after Eddie’s fucked him until he can’t talk.

Steve’s finally undressing, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. It feels like they belong there, like they could find a home in Eddie’s laundry basket, and then in his closet. Like pieces of Steve could stay.

Steve looks good in his bed, on his back, parting his legs. His hand cups his balls, lifts them as if he’s showing off exactly where he wants Eddie to go. Eddie’s dick leaks at the thought of being inside him.

He could probably lick him open and shove inside him with no argument, even though it would be uncomfortable and probably a little too painful even for Steve’s taste. He likes feeling the pinch of too much, the drag of skin that should be wetter. Maybe next time.

Eddie’s not gonna be mean like that, but he is gonna be quick. He’s not patient enough to take his time the way Steve may have thought he would.

He spits on Steve’s dick as he settles between his legs.

“Keep touching yourself. Don’t come,” he orders, pouring lube onto his fingers. “If you come, we stop.”

Steve whimpers and nods, accepts the challenge for what it is. His hand moves slow, languid in finding the perfect level of pleasure to keep him on the edge but not sending him over.

Eddie starts with two fingers, a happy medium between the pain Steve likes and the pain Eddie wants to try someday. It’s still enough to have Steve tighten around him, letting out a noise he’s never made before.

Eddie pauses and raises a brow up at him. Steve relaxes. Eddie continues.

He’s not gentle, but he could be a lot rougher. He has one purpose: open Steve up. He doesn’t even try to find his prostate until he’s ready to add the fourth finger that Steve wanted so bad.

Steve’s barely moving his hand anymore, just squeezing the base of his cock like it’s the only thing keeping him on earth. He’s burning up inside and out, sweat building on his thighs, darkening the hairs just enough to be noticeable.

As soon as Eddie pushes the fourth finger into him, Steve goes still and silent. Any sign of the anxious mess of a person who was pacing his kitchen floor earlier is long gone.

Eddie only gives him a second before he moves, pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in. It’s tight, really tight.

“Gotta relax or I can’t fuck you like you wanted,” Eddie reminds him. He looks down at where he’s stretching Steve, watches his hole flutter around his fingers as he desperately tries to relax. “Bet I could get my whole hand in if I used more lube.”

Eddie’s actually not sure he could with how tight Steve is now with just four, but Steve pants, nods like he agrees. Maybe they can try that, too.

Now that the bed is an option, Eddie could try a lot of things. So could Steve. Eddie thinks feeling his entire hand inside him might be enough to send him over the edge, dick untouched.

Steve finally relaxes enough around him so he can move and there has to be a direct connection between his fingertips and his own dick with how it jumps when he stretches his fingers. He’s sweating now, too, using his free hand to brush the hair off his shoulder for a moment.

“Your hand’s so big,” Steve whines, lifting his legs back further with what little strength he has left. ”So much.”

Eddie agrees. He’s watching how much he’s stretching him out and thinks it should be impossible.

He feels lost right now, shocked into watching what he’s doing rather than doing what the logical next step is: getting his dick inside Steve. It’s mesmerizing.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is unsure. “Look at me.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to his face, unblinking.

“You need me to tell you what I want?” Steve asks, letting his legs fall to the bed. The new angle shifts his fingers so they brush against Steve’s prostate. He bites back a moan, but so does Eddie. “Let me.”

Eddie nods. He can’t fucking think for himself right now. Some switch flipped when he saw the way Steve took him, and he’s not sure he can switch it back by himself.

“Touch yourself. Get yourself wet.”

He does it. How can he not when Steve is taking deep breaths to keep himself calm? How can he not when he’d do anything that Steve asks of him?

He misses Steve around his fingers, misses the heat of it, the warmth that ran from his hand to his chest. The direct link is gone, even if just for a moment.

Eddie spits on his hand, makes the glide of his hand easier. He knows not to come, but he knows he could. Steve’s eyes are on him, watching and assessing, figuring out what he’ll do next.

Steve isn’t the type to drag this on. He doesn’t like delaying his own pleasure. He’ll make Eddie come inside him the way they both want, he knows that.

But he still worries this will be the time he can’t hold back, that Steve will watch him until he comes and then the night will be done.

“Just the tip.” Steve’s words make Eddie whine. It’s not enough, but it might be too much. “Take it slow.”

Eddie leans down, lines himself up. The moment he’s inside Steve, he groans and his brain resets, focuses.

He waits for Steve to say he can give him more. He wants to give him more, he needs-

“More.” Steve is barely holding it together at this point, Eddie can tell from the way his voice shakes and his hand grips Eddie’s shoulder like his life depends on it. “Slow.”

Eddie goes slow. One inch further, one degree warmer.

Another inch and Steve’s grip is harder, bringing him back to earth.

He shares a look with Steve, sending the message that he’s good, he wants to take things from here. Steve will let him.

“You’re so good,” Eddie groans against his mouth as he kisses him, pushes in until he feels tight heat surrounding him completely. “Always so good for me.”

Steve tightens around him, legs wrapping around Eddie’s back and tugging him closer. It feels too much like something he can hold onto, something way more than what it’s supposed to be. He doesn’t comment on it. He can’t.

Steve tilts his head back, lids heavy as he begs Eddie for something only Eddie can give him.

He wraps a hand around Steve’s throat, squeezes once, and fucks into him hard.

Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s wrist, his silent permission to keep going, understanding of what he has to do for this to keep going.

They’ve never properly talked about this. It’s stupid and Eddie knows he needs to be careful.

He is. He’s always careful with Steve.

He only does it twice more, but it’s enough to have Steve pushing back against him, asking for more. Eddie removes his hand, grazes it down his chest, grips at his chest hair and tugs.

Steve yelps and Eddie smirks. “Thought you liked when I was mean,” he says to be extra mean. “You beg me to be rough all the time.”

“Be rough. But slow.”

Eddie is too close to go slow, but he thinks Steve’s in the same boat. He can probably get away with a few minutes of being rough before he comes.

“Wanna taste you,” Steve says, and it sounds like it might be the third thing he wanted. Eddie’s not sure what he means, though. They don’t kiss so it can’t be that. “Please, let me taste you.”

Eddie holds his chin, considers his next move as he fucks into him once, twice, grinds into him until they’re both breathless. He digs his fingers in, keeps Steve’s jaw open.

He leans in close enough to feel Steve’s breath in his own mouth.

“You wanna taste me?” He whispers.

“Yes.”

Eddie licks Steve’s bottom lip, so quick he could almost convince himself it didn’t actually happen.

Then he spits. Right in Steve’s mouth, watches it pool on his tongue.

Steve swallows it without being told to, closes his eyes and groans. He looks blissed out, cheeks red and forehead shining with sweat. He’s never been more beautiful, never made Eddie want to devour him quite like this.

It’s hard to keep things slow after that, but god, he tries. He would do anything for Steve, but he’s only human. He can’t be this close for much longer.

Steve’s eyes open and he doesn’t have to say anything for Eddie to know he’s too close to keep going.

They come seconds apart, so close Eddie’s not even sure who got there first.

Eddie fucks into him until he physically can’t anymore, wincing when it’s too much for his softening dick. He always pushes too much.

Steve lets out a laugh as Eddie falls to the side, grunting when his cheek smacks against Steve’s arm. He sighs and rests his lips against the skin there, scared to bring attention to it, but not wanting to put space between them yet.

It’s quiet for a while, their breathing evening out slowly as they come down. He still doesn’t move, but his brain’s starting to catch up and he’s left wondering something. He probably shouldn’t ask.

“What’s the third thing you want me to do?” Eddie asks anyway.

Steve is still, and Eddie thinks he hears his breath hitch.

His other hand comes up, resting gently on Eddie’s head. It’s a heavy weight on him, making him hotter when he’s already overheated. A comfort when he’s been giving and taking so much.

“Love me.”

Eddie should be more surprised to hear it maybe. He doesn’t even have a reaction at first, just soaks in the words.

Loving Steve Harrington has been easy so far, even though it’s been in silence. Understanding who he is, what he likes, what makes him tick, all of it has been a gift.

Even when he overthinks things, even when he’s high strung.

But loving Steve Harrington loudly, in the way he needs, the way he craves, might be even easier.

So he lets his lips pucker, kisses Steve’s arm.

“Is that all?” He asks, looking up at Steve with a smile.

[notvenomsnake]

“Oh Dear….”

NSFW!! Headcanons of DI Leon!! (fem! Reader!)

Mentions/warning!: Pregnant kink, breed kink, reader is leon’s fiance!, humping, daddy kink, cum play, leon’s kink of older/younger woman, oral (f! receiving), needy/subby leon, horny too, possessiveness, big age gap!! (Leon is 36! Reader is 28!), leon being obsessed with pussy and tits, thick fingers, choke hold…etc.

❤︎ Leon loves talking about how women look so sexy when they’re pregnant

❤︎ Knowing your going to be his wife makes him want to impregnate you more

❤︎ Leon loves older women so much, he says their so much more experienced

❤︎ Leon also loves younger women but loves his milfs but he still loves you

❤︎ Leon’s kink of being dominated by older women, begging and being told what to do is his dream

❤︎ Sure he loves younger woman too, seeing them beg for his dick is probably what turns him on too

❤︎ Seeing an inexperienced woman sucking his dick makes him want to cut your oxygen when he shoves his whole dick inside your mouth

❤︎ Definitely touches you under the covers in bed, fingering you every chance he gets

❤︎ Dicks you down after he caught you talking to a guy you called an ‘old buddy’ which didn’t sit right with Leon

❤︎ Crazy? No. He calls it ‘protection’ which is why he never lets any guy smile,talk,or even stare at you when he’s with you

❤︎ Thick dick means thick fingers…

❤︎ The way he teases you by putting his fingers inside your mouth before putting them inside you

❤︎ You squirm around his fingers makes him wanna choke you

❤︎ He laps his tongue around your clit making sure to tease you before going all in

❤︎ Every time he cums in you, he pushes it back in with his soften cock, thrusting into you

❤︎ While thrusting his cum back in, he rambles about seeing you pregnant and how fucking sexy you’ll be

❤︎ ‘Daddy’ Is like a big turn on for him, “Yeah? Gonna cum for Daddy?~” Is what he says as his cock hardens more

❤︎ When he’s all tired and sweaty from work you love giving him blow jobs

❤︎ He’s all subby when’s he’s tired, whimpering and begging for more

❤︎ Even teasing him by rubbing against his hard angry clothed cock with your damp pussy

❤︎ He’s so needy and horny that friction from dry humping is helping him come undone

❤︎ Pregnancy…He thought about it more than you, seeing you all vulnerable and needy is a dream

❤︎ He wants to suck the milk out of your tits, he dreams of it basically every night

❤︎ Humping isn’t a thing he does normally but when he’s tired and needy that’s all he can do to let out his needy

❤︎ Loves to fill your pretty pussy with his hot cum…stretches it open with his hands so he can see it drip down to your ass

❤︎ Puts it on his fingers as he makes you lick it off, putting it all over your body as he licks it off your tits, belly, lips…where ever

❤︎ “I’ll let no one has this pretty little mouth expect for me” As he slams his big cock inside your mouth

❤︎ When he hits your g-spot he starts fucking you with his tongue wanting to feel you come undone in his mouth

❤︎ Nicknames he gives you: Sweetheart, Baby, Doll, Darling, Honey

❤︎ His dick gets so hard in his pants when you hump his shoes/thigh, always all covered in your wet slick fluids

❤︎ Loves when you put all your weight on his face when you sit on him, wants to be suffocated by your dripping pussy

❤︎ Sucks on your clothed clit as he makes you beg to take off your already soaked panties

@notvenomsnake @notvenomsnake2 2025! Do not copy or try to copy!

[adult-kinda]

#NeedThat

Warnings: idol! Sunghoon, gf! Fem Reader, suggestive, smut references, yeah this is obviously based on his Weverse post

In which you are down bad for Sunghoon…

You were pretty discreet. The guys thought you and Sunghoon made a great couple because you matched each other’s energies. Most of the time he read your mind so you never had to say too much. But online you were different.

So maybe you weren’t the most discreet behind the wall of pixels. Your comments under Weverse posts and TikToks were no-holds-bar. Like any other thirsty engene your comments held some random fantasies and thought that were probably best in a diary somewhere, with a lock. And the worst part, Sunghoon finally caught on.

It was a really good gym day. Him and Jay hit arms together and the pump was solid. The dopamine was high and his muscles were looking pretty good. So of course he thought to casually post a mirror pic flexing a bit. Why not? Engenes would love it and it boosted his ego just enough.

He posted and casually scrolled through comments. For the most part the comments were pretty standard; the typical “marry me Sunghoon” and “oml so fineee” as well as other comments with entirely too many vowels added to the words. Nothing stood out all the comments were the typical cute and thirst comments.

Then he came across the account Hoonie’sWifey111703. It caught him off guard because that was your birthday. Of course you would have a Weverse account, but surely this could be anyone. Sunghoon couldn’t have just casually found your account amongst the millions of fans. So he did some research while in the car heading to your place. And boom, on Engene selca day there was your photo. Bingo. Sunghoon smirked when he scrolled through your comments. Yeah, he was gonna get real annoying.

The moment the door opened you smiled. You were so excited for Sunghoon to come back from gym because you were craving affection from him. Oh your poor oblivious mind.

“Hi Hoonie!” You greeted with a smile.

Sunghoon held that smug little smile and walked over to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Hi baby.”

“How was your workout?”

“Oh nothing crazy.” He started as he went over to the kitchen. “Lift was good and everything. I posted on Weverse.”

You nodded and bit your lip thinking about the post. “I saw.”

“I know.”

That made you turn around from the couch to look at him. You were confused. What did he mean by saying that he knows?

“Hm?” You questioned.

Sunghoon smirked and looked at you from the kitchen island. “Yeah, I saw a couple of interesting comments on my posts. Stuff like ‘I’m talking ‘bout in it’ and ‘raw next question.’ You know anything about that?”

You blushed red. There was no way he found your account out of all the fans he has. Even though your face gave it away you shook your head no.

Sunghoon chuckled and took out his phone. “See I thought you’d say that. So I took some screenshots of these comments. Let’s read them, yeah?”

“Hoonie you don’t-“No let’s look at them together! Since it’s not you this should be whatever.” He said as he walked over to sit with you on the couch.

“Let’s see, we have ‘until the gynecologist knows it’s him,’ very creative by the way. Then there’s ’Niagara Falls in my pants rn.’ This one’s from a few months ago, it says ‘Tiffany is nothing compared to this necklace’ that one might be my favorite.”

You shoved him and Sunghoon just laughed. You were so flustered. Never in your years of dating Sunghoon did you think he would’ve found your account. Yet here you were sitting on your shared couch while your idol boyfriend read off your thirsty ass comments.

“Enough!” You shouted.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes and kissed your cheek. “Why’re you so embarrassed? Of course you’d have an account nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You huffed and crossed your arms ignoring the feeling between your legs. “Boy leave me alone. How’d you even know it’s me?”

“The username has your birthday and you posted of selfie day. And I’m flattered that you’re so public about being my wifey!” He said with a smile.

If the universe would just listen and open up the ground for you! This is the prime moment to just sink into the earth’s core. The last thing you needed in your world was your boyfriend noticing your comments on his various Weverse posts.

“You know which one is my recent favorite?” He asked.

You looked at him with those eyes that screamed I’m annoyed get tf away from me. But that didn’t sway the idol.

“You commented #NeedThat. Do you need it, baby?” He teased.

You pursed your lips and turned away from him. But Sunghoon wasn’t having it.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t get to be shy now, baby. You were so open and nasty in those comments, what changed?”

Sunghoon brought an arm around your waist and kissed down your jawline and neck.

“Don’t know why you waste your time on those comments anyway. You’ve got the real thing right here. You need that? Well I’m right here. Take it.”

His words were impacting you more than you’d like to admit. But even if you didn’t say anything your body was going to. Those legs Sunghoon loved so much started to part subtly and your breathing pattern was off. He smirked knowing what he was doing to you.

“Come on baby. Admit it was you and I’ll do anything you want. I’ll make my hands a necklace for you. I’ll put you in that headlock you want so badly. Hell I’ll make you cum so hard your doctors will know exactly who you belong to.” Sunghoon teased as his lips created hickeys all over your neck.

You let out a frustrated huff and nodded. “Yes it’s me! Damn it Sunghoon take me to the bedroom!”

He chuckled and stood up. Sunghoon tossed you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing as you giggled your way to the shared bedroom.

Yes Sunghoon was an idol. He had fans around the globe and of course his comments were going to be thirsty. But you? He was going to make sure you had no need to leave comments ever again. You got the real thing every day, all you had to do was ask and take it.

[goddamnitmahtin]

All in Your Head

(a dc x dp au)

Bruce: *shaking Harley’s hand* Thanks for coming to see me on short notice.

Harley: It’s no problem. I didn’t have plans today.

Bruce: *leads her to the sitting area, sitting in an armchair*

Harley: *sits across from him* What’s going on Bruce? Is it system stuff? I thought you all were doing pretty okay last session. All things considered.

Bruce: I thought so too but…. I found another voice or alter I guess? And I don’t know when he got here. If he’s been here the whole time or if maybe I got stressed out and split? I dunno.

Harley: *nods* Both are possible… your split tolerance isn’t the best Bruce. What do you know about this new alter so far?

Bruce: He says his name is Danny and that he’s 15. *shrugs* I don’t know what he looks like. Matches says that he looks the way we did in high school but sometimes he’s a ghost. I don’t even know what that means.

Harley: *writing down notes* So he’s a non human alter. This wouldn’t be the first one you’ve had.

Bruce: *thinking about the dark shadow person with bat ears that crawls around on the ceilings in headspace* I’m aware…

Harley: Is Danny close to front right now? Is there any way we can communicate with him?

Bruce: *trying to check* Um… no. But B is near front. He says he’s gonna look for him.

Harley: *smiles* Your gatekeeper is very responsible.

Bruce: *sighs* I do not know what I would do without that guy- I would not be able to handle our kids- *dissociates*

Harley: *waits patiently*

Bruce: *realizes someone is trying to switch* Gimme a second-

Harley: Take all the time you need.

*a few moments pass in silence*

Danny!Bruce: Someone asked for me?

Harley: *smiles, holding out a hand* I’m Doctor Harleen Quinzel. I am assuming you are Danny?

Danny!Bruce: *sits up excitedly* Oh my god lady- you gotta help me- I possessed this rich guy thinking I could lay low for a bit while my core healed but now I’m stuck in here and there’s like a lot of dudes in here and some sort of bat shadow thing? It’s scary as fuck- I just wanna go home-

Harley: *calming voice* It’s okay Danny. You are probably a little confused about your situation.

Danny!Bruce: *groans, his face in his hands* I just wanna go home…

Harley: *assuming Danny is talking about false memories* Why don’t you tell me a little bit about that? What you remember before joining the headspace?

Danny!Bruce: I live in Amity Park. It’s a pretty secluded area. I have a mom and dad and a sister named Jazz. I’ve got two best friends, Sam and Tucker. Literally where am I right now- because this isn’t Amity Park.

Harley: You are in a city called Gotham.

Danny!Bruce: Fucking Gotham!? Holy Cheerios, no wonder this guy’s brain is so weird…. This place is practically as volatile as Amity Park. This also explains the huge amounts of ecto in some of these kids-

Harley: *frowns* Ecto?

[starkeymeow]

# IRL — racer!rafe who . . .

main masterlist | series masterlist

smells like gasoline, sweat, and leather. he always has motor oil under his fingernails no matter how many times he washes his hands.

cracks his knuckles before every race like it’s a ritual, then cracks his neck, grins at you, and says, “ready to watch me ruin their day, baby?”

probably bites down on the inside of his cheek when he’s focused. and you can always tell when he’s about to floor it by the way his jaw tightens.

leaves one earbud in while working under the hood of his car, the other tucked under his shirt where you left a red lipstick print earlier.

lets you sit on the handlebars of his dirtbike while post-race announcements happen, one hand on your thigh, fingers tracing circles.

always parks his bike crooked and fast just to get out and help you off of it like he’s your own personal bodyguard.

leans against his car before street races, helmet dangling from his fingers, and waits for you to come to him so he can pull you in by the waistband of your shorts.

tells you “kiss for luck?” with a smirk every time. he doesn’t even need it. he just wants to see your lipgloss smeared on his cheek while he wins.

doesn’t ask you to wait for him at the finish line. he expects it!! and when he wins (because he always does), he rides back slow just to find you first, and only smiles once you’re in front of him.

likes when you clean his hands off after races. you tug off his gloves and wipe the dirt from his knuckles, and he watches you like you’re the prize.

has your name scribbled on the underside of the dashboard of his car, carved into the back of his helmet visor, stitched in red on the edge of his gloves. yeah this man is WHIPPED. he never talks about it either. never lets anyone touch those things.

doesn’t hook up with random girls after wins, even when they try. because you’re there, arms crossed, leaning on his hood, giving girls that don’t even try smile while he shrugs you into his chest and says “let’s go, baby.”

once had to physically step between you and a girl who touched his arm too long. he didn’t even say anything, he just laughed and said, “she’s gonna kill you. leave.”

talks the most shit right before a race, but shuts up completely when you lean in and whisper, “bring it home for me.”

calls you his “lucky charm” when he’s feeling soft, but “my prize” when he’s feeling cocky.

kissed you against the hood of his car after a beachside date once, hands bruised from a race earlier that day and rough on your waist, sand in your hair. probably whispered “you make me feel like i already won,” then kissed you harder like he hated that he meant it.

takes you for post-race drives in the dark with music low and your hand on his thigh, thumb circling, not speaking, just cruising.

“no one else gets this version of me,” he said once, windows cracked. “you’re the only one i don’t have to pretend with.”

doesn’t label it. he never calls you his “girlfriend,” but everyone knows not to touch you, speak about you, or look at you without expecting rafe’s name to be behind the bruise they earn for it. and you? you’d burn every one of his bikes to the ground if another girl tried to ride with him.

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @sukunasmuse @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed @siyahmoonlight @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @d-daxx @tsumudoll @ogcrashout @jjasmiineee @loverliner @ailimedae @belle101200 @hiimbrina @nomup @ayy1234567 @girxwrp @k4yr14 @amterasuu @theteenagementality @maggscr @hey-you22w @delilah22pbp @hayleynott @silkenthusiasts

[brownlyfe]

Love A Woman (Bonus): Wish I Never…

The Bonus Part to a Three Part Modern Day AU

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

cw: smut, slightly ooc

wc: 7,921

summary: annie is caught between two brothers who show their love for her in two different ways. one quiet and soft beneath her control, the other? unapolegtically rough and playful. weekdays are a slow burn of passion and promise, but the weekends are chaos and surrender personified. but when blurred lines, missed promises, and real feelings start to surface, the balance shifts. loyalty gets tested. and annie has to decide what kind of love she really needs, and who’s strong enough to hold all of her.

notes: omg yall!! we’re at the end fr fr this time! first i would like to say yall have me cracking up really bad over last chapter. I was fighting for Stack’s life writing this. and the way I thought everyone was going to say yes and not no 😭😭. also I saw a tiktok comment about this story, yall even mad over there 😭. anyways enjoy this last part and get ready for more stuff to come!

The bedroom was a mess of half-packed outfits, open suitcases, and shoes lined up in disarray. Annie was crouched near the edge of the bed, holding up two different swimsuits with a frown on her face while her phone balanced between her shoulder and cheek.

“I’m serious, Mia,” she said. “I need backup. I’m not going without moral support.”

Mia’s voice crackled through the speaker, dry and amused. “It’s just a weekend getaway. How bad could it be?”

“It’s Stack,” Annie replied flatly.

That shut Mia up.

“…Alright. Fair. Still... Kennedy’s gonna say no. You know she doesn’t do group trips.”

“Tell her I’ll make the pasta she likes.”

“Girl, you’re already bribing my wife?”

Annie threw the swimsuit onto the bed. “Yes, desperately. Smoke just told me that Stack’s girl is bringing a friend. So I’m not showing up alone like some ex with baggage.”

Mia sighed. “You are an ex with baggage.”

Annie flopped backward onto the bed. “I know. That’s why I’m trying to pack light.”

Smoke walked in, fresh out of the shower, a towel around his waist, a cigar unlit in one hand. He paused in the doorway, watching her with that steady, unreadable gaze.

Annie glanced up at him and raised a brow. “I’m bringing the navy set or the burgundy?”

Smoke’s eyes flicked to the bed. “Burgundy.”

Mia caught the tone in his voice and groaned over the phone. “Oh God, he’s there. I’m hanging up.”

“Tell Kennedy I’ll text her.”

“Uh-huh. Tell Smoke not to start anything he can’t finish.”

Smoke smirked as Annie ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed.

“You good?” he asked, setting the cigar down.

“No,” she muttered, sitting up. “I’m packing for a trip that I’m probably going to regret.”

Smoke stepped closer, slowly and deliberately. “You’ll be fine.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.” He stopped in front of her and cupped her chin. “You don’t have to prove anything. Not to him. Not to anyone.”

Annie leaned into his touch just a little.

“I know,” she whispered. “But I still want to look better than her.”

That made Smoke grin. And then he kissed her. 

-

The sky was a soft, lazy gray, just overcast enough to calm the road. The kind of weather that made hours pass quietly, letting the hum of the tires and the low beat of music do all the talking.

Annie had one foot tucked under her in the seat, phone in her lap, legs bare under a pair of soft black shorts. She scrolled through work emails she wasn’t truly reading and sipped from a green juice that had long since warmed up. Her hair was slicked into a braid. Her tank top hung off one shoulder.

She looked put together, but Smoke could feel it. The way she hadn’t said his name once. Not during the packing. Not on the drive. Not since she found out he’d be at the house. She was dodging that truth like it had claws. Floating on top of it like it didn’t still had teeth.

So she talked about everything else.

“…and you remember Deja from accounting?” she said, flicking a nail against her phone screen. “Tell me why she’s pregnant again, and nobody knows who the dad is. Again.”

Smoke chuckled under his breath, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on her thigh. “She consistent, I’ll give her that.”

Annie laughed, a real one, head falling back for a second. “You’re sick.”

Smoke chuckled low, eyes still fixed on the road. His thumb stroked a slow circle just above her knee.

She didn’t react at first. She was used to him touching her, palm wide on her skin, thumb dragging circles just above her knee. 

He watched her from the corner of his eye. The tension hadn’t left her shoulders. Her jaw was still too tight. Her foot was bouncing. She was running.

Then his hand slid higher, past her mid-thigh, and the hem of her black knit shorts. Fingers drifting with precision and no announcement.

“Smoke,” she muttered, glancing up.

“Shh.”

His fingers slid over her, parting her slowly, then dipped inside, two fingers curling deep with practiced ease. Annie's whole body stilled, then she melted.

She gripped the door for balance, the breath catching in her chest before her left hand reached for his arm instinctively, gripping tight with her diamond ring catching the light.

He stroked her gently at first, just enough to pull her breath into a higher pitch, her thighs trembling.

Smoke didn’t look at her. His eyes stayed on the road. He was calm and focused. Like he wasn’t currently sliding two fingers into her while driving seventy-five miles an hour on a rural highway.

Annie tried to say something, but all that came out was a sharp inhale, her body leaning back into the seat.

“You need to relax,” he murmured, eyes still on the road. “Let go for me, baby.”

Her moan cracked free. “Oh my– fuck–”

Smoke smiled, just a little. His thumb found her clit and circled slow, the pressure perfect, rhythm tight, until her hips started to move on their own.

She bit her lip, trying to stay composed, but it was already unraveling. The angle of his hand, the slick drag of his fingers, the pressure of his thumb circling her clit like he knew her better than she knew herself. And he did.

She was trying so hard to keep her composure. But he knew what she sounded like when she broke.

“Don’t hold back,” he said, voice low. “I want it all. Right here.”

She clutched his forearm harder, nails digging in. And when he curved his fingers just right, she shattered. A choked cry spilled from her lips, her body curling into the seat, eyes wide and wet, thighs shaking violently around his wrist.

But Smoke didn’t stop; he kept going. Slow and steady. And when she whimpered, already too sensitive, he leaned in and kissed her shoulder without taking his fingers out.

“One more,” he said quietly. “You’ve been running too long. Let it catch you.”

She sobbed out his name, and it wasn’t long before the second wave slammed into her. It was deeper, hotter, wrecking her in his palm.

She slumped into the seat when it was over, breath shaky, lips parted like she was still trying to come back to earth. Smoke pulled his hand out gently, licked his fingers clean, then took her hand, the one with the ring, and kissed her knuckles slowly.

“Smoke–” she whispered, wrecked.

He finally looked at her then and smiled.

“You good, mama?”

She nodded, eyes glassy.

“Good,” he said. “Because the weekend’s just starting.”

-

The last year hadn’t always been smooth sailing. Actually, it had been more like a roller coaster than anything. 

The slam of the kitchen cabinet echoed down the hallway. Annie was barefoot in the doorway, arms crossed, face tight with frustration. Smoke stood near the sink, hands braced on the counter, cigar forgotten in the ashtray beside him.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she said, voice hard.

Smoke didn’t look at her. “Doing what, Annie?”

“This. Pretending like everything’s fine when we both know it’s not.”

He turned slowly, eyes darker than she’d seen them in months. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Then act like it,” she snapped. “Stop holding shit in until it explodes. Say something. Yell. Be mad. Just do something other than stare at me like I’m a fucking burden.”

“You want me to say something?” he barked, stepping forward. “Fine. I’m tired of feeling like I’m option two. Like I’m just the man you fall back on when Stack’s too busy being a fuck-up.”

Annie’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now?”

“You think I don’t see it?” he went on, voice rising. “You’ve been grieving him while lying in my bed, and you think I’m not supposed to feel that?”

“That’s not fair,” she said, but her voice wavered.

“What part? The part where I let you keep us both because I thought love could stretch? The part where I watched you unravel over him for years and still gave you my whole damn heart?”

Annie blinked fast. Her throat was tight. “You think this was easy for me?”

“No, I think you made it easy for him.” His voice was sharper now. “You begged for his attention. You softened for him. But me? I was the one holding you when he didn’t show up. I was the one who loved you first.”

“I was with you,” she shouted. “I chose you.”

“No, you settled for me,” he growled. “There’s a difference.”

Annie’s face twisted in disbelief. “You think I don’t love you?”

“I think you loved him more.”

She laughed, bitter and sharp. “Wow. That’s rich coming from a man who doesn’t even talk unless I pull it out of him.”

“You always needed somebody loud to validate you,” he shot back. “Maybe that’s why you were never satisfied with me.”

Her whole body recoiled. “Fuck you.”

“You already did,” he said coldly.

There was a thick silence. The air between them cracked.

Her next words came out low, dangerous, and hurt. 

“You want to talk about settling?” she whispered. “Maybe I did. Maybe I needed something because I was tired of being second place to your silence.”

His nostrils flared.

“And maybe I needed someone who didn’t need to be the center of every goddamn universe to feel loved.”

Annie took a step back.

Smoke’s voice lowered, strained, and shaking. “You think you’re hard to carry, Annie? You are. But I did it anyway. I did it because I loved you. But this…this ain’t love anymore.”

Annie blinked fast. Her chest burned.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “Maybe it never really was, Elijah.”

The room froze. Smoke’s face changed. The hurt hit him like a slap.

“You wanna end it?” he asked, voice low. “Say it.”

She hesitated.

“Say it, Annie. Say you’re done.”

“I’m done.”

He nodded once. Took off his chain, the one she gave him two birthdays ago, and set it on the counter.

“Then I won’t come back.”

And she didn’t stop him. Not this time.

The apartment used to be the kind of quiet that comforted him. Normally, the lighting was dim with jazz bleeding through the speakers, and Annie would be somewhere in the next room. Her presence had always been a constant. Now the empty silence pressed against his chest like a hand he couldn’t move.

Smoke sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, the soft glow from his nightstand lamp casting long shadows across the room. The cigar between his fingers had burned out minutes ago, but he hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t been to sleep. 

His phone was facedown. Her contact hadn’t lit up in a month. And yet, her memory hadn’t shut up once.

His mind drifted past the silence, back to the dorm rooms with thin walls and even thinner mattresses. 

Back then, she used to make everything quiet. Back when he was barely more than a storm walking around in boots and low expectations. Annie had a way of softening the edges of his anxiety. Of showing up.

He remembered how she used to pack extra granola bars in her backpack, just in case he forgot to eat again during midterms. How she’d show up at his dorm uninvited with her laptop, crawl into his lap, and say, “I’m not leaving until you submit that assignment.”

She’d help him submit his assignments. Email his professors. Keep snacks in her drawer for the days he forgot to eat. Pull him out of his shell when he wanted to drown in it.

How she used to touch his face gently after his nightmares. Stroke his back. Press kisses to his neck. Whisper, “You’re okay, Elijah. You’re not there anymore.”

And he’d wake up sweating, heart pounding, breath tight. She’d wrap her arms around him and hum into the crook of his neck until his breathing leveled out. She learned him before he learned himself.

She never judged him for how quiet he was. She just understood. Even now, he could still hear her voice when she called him Elijah. And he let her in even when he didn’t let anyone else in.

He leaned back on the bed, eyes burning. She used to be the only thing in the world that ever made him feel safe. And somehow, he’d let her go.

-

She was sitting on the floor in her bedroom, hair in a loose bun, wrapped in an old hoodie that she forgot to give back. The wine on the dresser was half-full, but her thoughts were overflowing. A whole month and not one call from him or to him.

Her friends still thought everything was fine. She hadn’t told a soul. Every time Mia got close to asking, she changed the subject. Lied with a smile. Said they were “just taking time.” But there was no we anymore. Just the cold absence of a man who used to be her everything. And that was what hurt the most.

Smoke had always been there. Through her long hours, her promotions, her breakdowns behind the bathroom door. He’d run her baths before she even asked. Cooked her dinner when she forgot she hadn’t eaten. Took her phone when her clients stressed her out. Fucked her slow when she needed to remember how to breathe.

He didn’t take up space in her life…he held it. Even when she was cold or when her new job made her impatient, entitled, and hard to love.

She started turning bratty around the same time she started losing herself in work, snapping at him, dismissing the things he did, forgetting he was trying. But he never threw it back at her. He just tried harder.

Smoke didn’t make big gestures. He didn’t talk a lot. But he constantly showed up.

He was the one who held her when she fell apart at work. Who massaged her shoulders when the tension wouldn’t leave. Who made her feel beautiful on the days she felt like nothing. Who ran her bubble baths and poured her wine and kissed her slowly when the world felt too heavy to carry.

He was never loud about his love, but it was everywhere. And now, without it? She felt the silence like punishment.

So here she sat there on the hardwood floor, legs crossed, realizing she had no one to blame but herself for how far he drifted. Annie buried her face in her hands, her heart squeezing tight. She missed him. And for the first time, she wondered if missing him would be all she had left.

-

The line was longer than usual, but Annie didn’t mind. She had thirty minutes before her next meeting, and the place was quiet, tucked into a block of glass offices and tree-lined sidewalks.

She checked her phone, absently scrolling through emails, heels clicking softly as the line inched forward. That’s when she felt it. A presence. She looked up, and her breath caught in her throat.

He stood near the other end of the counter, waiting for his order. Wearing a charcoal suit with no tie and the sleeves rolled up. His watch glinted beneath a pressed cuff. He looked every bit like the man he had grown into. 

And when his eyes lifted and met hers, it was instant. Something between them broke and rebuilt all at once. He didn’t smile. He just looked at her long enough that her stomach tightened.

Annie turned back toward the register, pulse hammering. She ordered her coffee and breakfast sandwich quietly. And when she reached for her card, the barista shook their head.

“It’s already taken care of.”

She blinked. “What?”

The barista nodded toward the other end of the counter.

Smoke didn’t say anything. He just met her eyes again and gave a small nod. That was all. But it hit her harder than she expected.

They sat across from each other at a corner table, tucked away from the bigger crowd. It was quiet except for the soft background music and the clinking of silverware. They hadn’t seen each other in over a month.

Smoke stirred his drink slowly, thumb tapping against the side of the mug.

Annie looked down at her plate. “You didn’t have to pay for it.”

“I know,” he said, voice low. “But I still wanted to.”

She didn’t argue, but there was a beat of silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Smoke looked up, surprised.

“For what?”

Annie took a shaky breath. “For everything. For all the ways I made you feel less than. For falling into Stack’s trap when I knew better.”

Smoke’s jaw tensed, but not in anger, just pain.

“I should’ve known,” she whispered. “You were the one who always showed up. I just– I didn’t see it clear enough back then. And by the time I did, I’d already hurt you.”

Smoke stayed quiet for a second, but then said, “I didn’t handle everything right either. I held things in when I should’ve said them.”

She nodded. “Still, you didn’t deserve what I put you through.”

“You didn’t deserve what you were dealing with either.”

Their eyes met, but it was different this time. There was no begging. Nor was there any blame. Just two people who had lived through the worst of it and still found room to sit across from each other.

Smoke leaned forward slightly. “I think about you a lot.”

Annie looked down, lips twitching into something sad. “I miss you.”

He reached for her hand, just enough to hold. Her thumb was tracing his knuckles.

-

The house was gorgeous. There were vaulted ceilings, polished floors, warm lighting that poured across expensive furniture, and an open floor plan that made the whole place feel like luxury with no walls.

Annie stepped inside first, pulling her roller suitcase behind her, the soft clack of wheels on hardwood echoing under her sandals. Smoke followed close behind, a duffel in one hand and their wine bag in the other.

“Damn,” Annie said, looking around. “This place is beautiful.”

Smoke nodded, gaze sweeping over the high ceilings and curated decor. “Definitely not cheap.”

They wandered slowly, past the open-concept kitchen, into the living room, toward the hallway with several doors branching off. Annie turned the corner and immediately froze.

There they were, Stack and Crystal, half-naked on the couch. 

Crystal gasped, startled, scrambling for a throw blanket that barely covered anything. Stack didn’t move at first. His hand still rested on Crystal’s hip, but his eyes, his eyes locked onto Annie’s like time had slowed.

And he didn’t look guilty. He looked like he wanted her to feel something, anything. Like he needed her reaction. But Annie just blinked. Completely unbothered. She almost looked amused.

Smoke stepped in behind her, immediately reading the room. He caught Stack’s stare, the weird tension laced into it, and with zero hesitation, he gently turned Annie around by her waist.

“Let’s go,” he said under his breath, cool and calm.

Annie let him guide her out without protest. She didn’t say a word, but the silence spoke volumes. Stack’s stare burned into her back the entire way out.

Smoke led her down a hallway and into one of the guest suites tucked away from the noise and the tension.

The room was stunning, cool-toned linens, oversized windows, a king bed that looked hand-pressed, and a balcony overlooking the lake below. The en suite bathroom was even better, with marble tile, gold fixtures, and a rainfall shower big enough for two.

Smoke dropped their bags by the bench at the foot of the bed and wrapped his arms around Annie from behind.

“You good?” he asked, voice low against her neck.

Annie nodded, exhaling. “Please. I didn’t expect anything different.”

-

Annie sat cross-legged on the bed, still in her travel clothes but barefoot now, scrolling through the TV menu. Smoke was reclined against the headboard, one arm draped behind her, the other lazily scrolling on his phone.

Neither of them had said a word about the run-in with Stack and Crystal. They didn’t need to. It didn’t quite matter.

“So,” Annie said, clearing her throat, “we left off in the middle of the reunion, and I swear if Kenya gets one more dig in, I might actually switch teams.”

Smoke didn’t look up. “She’s messy.”

“You say that like you’re not dying to see how it ends.”

“I ain’t invested.”

Annie turned and gave him a look. “You literally asked me last week if Shereé ever got her damn joggers.”

Smoke cracked a small grin. “That was one time.”

“Uh-huh. You love the drama.”

“I tolerate it.”

“You watch it more than I do.”

He looked at her then, soft amusement in his eyes. “And I watch you watch it. That’s the point.”

Annie smirked and leaned into him, her fingers brushing his jaw as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. It was gentle. Like they’d chosen to be here, in this moment, instead of stuck in the past. But the peace never lasts long.

A knock on the door pulled them apart.

Annie groaned. “Let the chaos begin.”

Smoke stood to answer it, pulling the door open just as Mia and Kennedy stepped in with overnight bags and a bottle of wine. Mia sunglasses on and her energy was hot. Kennedy, by contrast, looked calm, amused, and slightly resigned to whatever drama her wife had dragged her into.

Annie hugged Mia tightly. “You came.”

“Of course I came. I don’t trust any situation that involves your ex, his new girl, and some mystery couple.”

“Please don’t get kicked out before tomorrow.”

“I’m not making promises we both know I won’t keep.”

Downstairs, Crystal’s friend, Nina, and her boyfriend had just arrived as well. They all made their way back down there to properly mingle with each other. The energy in the room was mildly awkward.

The introductions started off politely. But the moment that Nina started to eye Mia a little too hard, things got tense. Annie pulled Mia away to the kitchen before things got to be too much.

-

The dining table was set, candles lit, wine bottles uncorked, plates passed around. It should’ve felt like a peace offering. Instead, it felt like waiting for a spark in a room full of gas.

Annie sat at one end of the table, Smoke to her right. Mia and Kennedy sat across from them, doing a perfect job of being calm. Stack was at the other end, Crystal to his side, and Nina and her boyfriend sat between them, like the self-appointed royal couple of the group.

The conversation had started light. Vacations. Favorite shows. Someone made a joke about group trips being cursed, which, ironically, got the biggest laugh. But then Nina started asking questions. The kind that made everyone’s wine glasses pause halfway to their lips.

“So, Annie,” she said sweetly, slicing into her roasted chicken. “How long have you and Smoke been together?”

Annie’s eyes lifted slowly. Her smile stayed polite. “Since college.”

Nina blinked. “Oh, that’s cute. So, not sharing anymore?”

Mia’s fork clinked against her plate. Smoke didn’t look up. Just kept cutting his steak, slowly.

Crystal let out a quiet, almost embarrassed laugh. “Nina–”

“What?” Nina shrugged. “I just mean it used to be a…unique arrangement, right?”

“We grew up,” Annie said, tone even. “Some of us do that.”

That earned a chuckle from Kennedy.

Nina kept smiling. “Right. Growth is everything. I mean, not everyone finds peace when they finally pick someone.”

Annie raised her brows. “You’re right. Some people just pick…convenience.”

Stack set his glass down a little too hard. Crystal touched his arm lightly, her jaw tightening. Mia didn’t bother to hide her grin. The conversation stalled for a beat.

Then Nina turned her attention to Smoke. “And you, Smoke, you good with all this? I mean, no offense, but you don’t seem like the type to take that.”

Smoke finally looked up, steady and calm. “You asking ‘cause you’re curious, or ‘cause you want something to talk about later?”

Nina blinked while Annie smirked into her wine glass.

Mia let out a little “oop”, and Kennedy reached for her hand under the table to keep her still.

The rest of dinner was spent with overly loud sips of wine, surface-level conversation, and a lot of pointed glances passed silently between four of them.

-

Steam curled into the night sky as the jets bubbled around Annie and Mia. The hot tub lights glowed, casting both women in a soft blue and gold. A half-empty wine bottle floated on a tray near the edge, but their glasses were within easy reach.

Annie leaned back, arms stretched wide across the rim, her hair in a bun and her lashes still perfectly curled from earlier. Mia, on the other hand, had shed all physical signs of dinner, but her attitude was still on.

“I swear to God,” Mia said, swirling her wine, “if Nina tries you one more time, I’m snatching her by that cheap ass wig and drowning her respectfully.”

Annie burst out laughing. “Respectfully is crazy.”

“I’m just saying,” Mia shrugged, “I came here for peace. What I’m not doing is letting some recycled wanna be bad bitch try you about your relationship like she doesn’t smell like expired Dior and desperation.”

Annie snorted into her glass.

“No, but seriously,” Mia said, serious again. “Don’t let that girl get under your skin. You handled her at dinner, but I know you.”

“I’m fine,” Annie said. “Really. She’s just…”

“A fan,” Mia finished. “Heavy on the fan behavior.”

They both sipped. Then Mia grinned.

“So, anyway,” she said, lowering her voice, “I brought some of those honey packs I was telling you about.”

Annie blinked. “The what?”

Mia held up three fingers like she was swearing an oath. “Those TikTok honey packs? The ones that make your coochie hum like a Tesla?”

Annie chuckled while sipping her drink. “Mia.”

“I’m serious! I brought one for each of us. Me, you, Kennedy. I was gonna sneak one to Smoke, too, but he doesn’t need it.”

Annie flushed, but grinned. Just then, the back door slid open.

Smoke and Kennedy stepped out in their own swim attire, towels in hand. They were both used to the shenanigans of their women, so it was no surprise that dinner turned out the way that it did.

“Well, well,” Kennedy said, slipping into the water next to Mia. “Y’all been out here talking shit without us?”

“Obviously,” Mia replied, kissing her cheek. “And planning a little experiment.”

Smoke sank in beside Annie, arm sliding along the back of the tub behind her. Annie relaxed instantly, her thigh pressed to his under the water.

“What experiment?” Smoke asked.

Mia smirked. “I brought the honey.”

Kennedy shook her head with a smile. “I told you that stuff is probably illegal.”

“It’s legal…I think?” Mia said. “Anyway, I’m just saying, we’re all grown, and the tension in this house is high, why not let everybody go home happy?”

Annie covered her face, laughing.

Smoke leaned into her ear, voice low. “You down?”

“Don’t tempt me,” she murmured back.

The conversation turned playful from there, laughter echoing into the night as the group slowly unraveled into each other. For a moment, Annie forgot all about Nina, Stack, and the weirdness of it all.

-

The lake glimmered under the high afternoon sun, with just enough breeze to keep the heat from sticking. Everyone was outside, lounging and playing around. Music pulsing low from a speaker set on the dock.

Annie stood at the edge of the water, her toes curling into the wooden planks as she watched the group settle in. She wore a sleek burnt-orange bikini, high-cut with a wrap around her waist. Her curls were pulled into a puff, and her face was bare except for sunscreen and lipgloss. Her engagement ring was tucked safely in the little jewelry dish on her nightstand, back inside out of fear that she would lose it. 

“Don’t overthink it, baby,” Smoke’s voice came from behind her, low and teasing.

She turned. He was already shirtless and wet, standing waist-deep in the water. Swim trunks low. That calm, focused look on his face that always gave away his next move.

“I’m not getting in yet,” Annie warned, backing up.

Smoke raised a brow. “That wasn’t a question.”

Before she could react, he lunged for her quickly and held her in his arms. Annie shrieked, her body wriggling as she tried to pull away, but it was too late. He had walked them backwards until the water swallowed them both.

When they came up, Annie was gasping through her laugh, splashing him hard across the chest. “Why would you do that?”

“You needed to relax.”

“I was relaxed!”

Smoke smirked, water running down his shoulders.

She rolled her eyes but stayed close. Her arms looped loosely around his neck as they floated in the shallow water. His hands found her waist like they belonged there. Which, at this point, they did.

Meanwhile, on the deck, Mia watched the whole thing with her arms crossed and a margarita in hand. Kennedy was beside her, calm as ever, rubbing sunscreen on her legs.

Crystal and Nina were sitting nearby in matching swimsuits that were clearly curated for Instagram, and not for movement. Both wore full faces of makeup and had done a grand total of zero swimming.

“This is…fun,” Nina said, in a sort of sarcastic tone.

“Super fun,” Crystal added, sipping her sparkling water like it was tea. “I guess this is what people do to remember what a good relationship feels like.”

Mia didn’t turn to them, but with her ears on sonar mode, she heard everything. She didn’t blink or hesitate in the words she was about to say.

“I guess you need a vacation to remember what a good wig feels like, huh?”

Kennedy coughed to cover her laugh, Crystal blinked, and Nina narrowed her eyes.

Back at the water’s edge, Smoke had Annie hoisted onto a float, and she was trying to keep her balance while he nudged it from underneath.

“Don’t–” she warned, laughing. “Smoke, don’t tip it.”

“Say you love me.”

“I do love you. Don’t play with me–”

He flipped it anyway.

-

The dining room was dimly lit, warm-toned, and almost too quiet as everyone settled into their seats. The food was good, plated beautifully, smelled inviting, but the energy was off. 

Annie sat beside Smoke, her hand resting on the table, her wine glass just close enough to touch. The diamond on her finger sparkled under the overhead light, subtle but impossible to miss.

Stack noticed. His eyes would flick to her hand every time she reached for her glass. Next to him, Crystal had seen it too. She hadn’t said a word about it, not directly, but her smile was tight, her grip on her fork tense.

Nina, of course, was in rare form.

“So how long have y’all been engaged?” she asked sweetly, swirling her wine without looking up.

Annie looked over slowly. “A while.”

“That’s so nice. Some of us get that one good love, you know? Others just keep running in circles.”

Crystal’s jaw tightened. Stack shifted in his chair. Mia raised a brow, but stayed silent. She stored the rising tension and comment in her head for later.

Conversation continued in scattered bursts, half-forced, half-tipsy. Kennedy tried to change the subject, asking about the jet ski rental. Smoke kept a hand on Annie’s thigh under the table, grounding her. 

Then Nina struck again.

“I mean, I get it,” she said, addressing no one and everyone at once. “Some women like their men quiet and safe. Some of us like a little spice.”

Mia set her fork down slowly.

“Girl, what the hell are you talking about? Is this you trying to say something, or do you just like hearing your own voice?”

Nina tilted her head, sucking her teeth. “I’m just saying, silent men are nice, but they get boring real fast.”

“You must be bored a lot,” Mia said, dead calm. “Considering how often you’re in other people’s business.”

Crystal snorted into her wine.

Nina’s smile faded. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, I did. I just don’t think you realize how you sound. Grown women who act like guard dogs? That’s usually insecurity.”

Mia stood up. Kennedy’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.

“Mia,” Kennedy warned. “Not at the table.”

“I’m good,” Mia said through clenched teeth, eyes locked on Nina. “But let the bitch say one more thing and I swear…”

Annie reached up, placing a hand gently on Mia’s arm. “Please. She’s not worth it.”

“She asking all these dumb ass questions. She don’t know you. She don’t know me. And if she did, she wouldn’t be talking right now.”

Nina raised her brows. “Touchy.”

Mia took a step forward. Kennedy and Annie both rose halfway from their seats, holding her back just as her chair scraped the floor.

“Mia.”

Stack cleared his throat. “Let’s not do this.”

“Why not?” Crystal piped up, her voice honeyed but icy. “You weren’t concerned about keeping the peace when you were staring at Annie’s ring for the last thirty minutes.”

The room fell into stunned silence. Stack froze. Annie looked down. Smoke didn’t move, but his hand on her thigh gripped just a little tighter. Mia slowly sat back down, still heated, still staring daggers across the table. Nina stayed quiet for once.

Crystal lifted her glass with a fake-ass smile. “To love, I guess.”

Nobody raised theirs. Nobody said a word. The toast died in the silence.

-

The kitchen was quiet, except for the low hum of the fridge and the soft tap of Annie’s nails against the marble counter.

She was perched on the edge of it in her short silk robe, loosely tied, with one leg swinging. Her eyes focused on Smoke, who stood in front of the open fridge like he was considering life’s deeper meanings.

Smoke stood across from her, also in his robe, barefoot, holding a small bowl of sliced fruit they hadn’t bothered touching at dinner.

He held up the gold foil packet between his fingers. “Still wanna try it?”

Annie smiled slowly. “You said we were sharing.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

Smoke walked in between her legs while he ripped the package open and held it out for her to take from him. Instead, she wrapped her lips around the small package and sucked until half of the golden liquid was gone. Their eyes remained locked on each other.

“It’s sweet.” 

Smoke took the pack from her and downed the rest. “We’ll see how sweet it gets.”

Smoke helped her down from the counter so they could make their way to their room to wait out however long it would take for the honey to start taking effect. 

As they walked back, with their robes loose, they passed by Mia and Kennedy’s door just in time to hear the unmistakable sounds of pleasure echoing through the wood.

Mia’s voice, muffled but dramatic: “I’m sorry, baby…oh shit– I’m sorry, I was just mad–”

Annie stopped mid-step.

Smoke kept walking, unbothered. “Guilt’s a hell of a foreplay starter.”

-

Their balcony was quiet, lit only by the moonlight and the dim outdoor sconces. They sat side by side in matching robes, nothing underneath, skin brushing every time they shifted.

The lake shimmered below, crickets filled the silence, but the air between them was tightening.

Annie licked her lips, her body suddenly too aware. Heat had started curling low in her stomach, her skin hypersensitive.

Smoke leaned back in his chair, legs spread, robe open just enough to tease.

“You feel that?” she murmured.

He nodded once. “Mmhmm.”

His eyes dragged over her body. Her thighs. Her collarbone. Her fingers rested on her knee. Annie shifted, crossing her legs, only for the fabric of her robe to part. Smoke’s jaw flexed. The air between them grew thick.

“You wanna go back inside?” she asked, voice a little softer now.

Smoke didn’t answer right away. He leaned in slowly, one hand on her thigh, the other sliding up her waist until it rested just under her robe, fingers splayed across bare skin.

“Nah,” he said. “I think we can start right here.”

Annie’s eyes fluttered closed for a second. When they opened, he was watching her like he already had her answer.

“Come here,” he whispered, voice raspy with something unspoken.

She stood and moved between until she was straddling him. It felt like second nature the way his hands traveled up and down her body and the way her arms wrapped around his shoulders. The pressure in her body bloomed with the sweetest ache, and the warmth between them turned sharp. He didn’t rush it just leaned in and kissed her neck all slow. And suddenly, that balcony didn’t feel too public anymore.

The night air was thick with heat, but Annie felt hotter than the breeze. His hand was around the base of her throat, thumb stroking slowly over her pulse. The honey pack was surely kicking in full gear now.  She could feel it in her chest, her gut, her clit, everything pulsing and too aware.

Smoke's other hand slid down her back, settling on the curve of her ass. He gripped it firmly, then slapped it once, hard enough to sting. Annie gasped, breath catching, her hips already rolling.

“Greedy already?” he murmured against her ear.

“It’s the honey,” she whispered, but she was lying. It was him. It was always him.

Smoke shifted, dragging her robe off her shoulders fully. He leaned in and placed kisses along the tops of her exposed breasts. He could feel her shudder from what he was certain was the feel of his mouth on her heated body. 

“You like that?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He smiled. “Good.”

He slid her off his lap, stood her up, and turned her to face the railing. Her hands gripped the edge automatically. He pushed her robe open and bent her slightly.

“Stay there.”

He knelt behind her, kissing the inside of her thighs. Then he spit between her legs, fingers spreading her open as he licked her like he hadn’t eaten all day. Deep, slow, messy strokes with his tongue until Annie was shaking, gasping, grinding back into his mouth.

“F-fuck, I—”

He sucked her clit just right.

She came with a cry, legs buckling. But Smoke wasn’t done.

He stood and slid two fingers inside her, pressing up until she whimpered. His other hand wrapped around her throat again, pulling her back into his chest while he fingered her hard and fast from behind.

“I want that shit on my hand, baby. Come again, baby.”

And she did, wet and loud, her body jerking, a high-pitched moan spilling into the quiet night. He stood with the most focused look on his face. 

One strong hand between her shoulders, the other gripping his slick shaft. When he slid into her, it was deep and possessive. Her favorite combination. The kind of strokes that made her legs tremble from the first thrust.

“I missed this pussy,” he gritted out. “Missed the way it gives up for me.”

He started slow, just enough for her to feel him everywhere, then picked up speed. He had his hand on her ass, giving it a few slaps after some thrusts. Her cries were barely contained. Then came the choking again.

When she came again, she collapsed into the railing. He caught her, wrapped his arms around her, and kept fucking her through it until he couldn’t hold back. He came with a low groan, buried deep, both of them breathless. When it was over, he held her there a moment.

He decided to pull back when it seemed like both their bodies regulated themselves enough. He crossed the balcony to sit back in his chair from before. Annie’s legs were still trembling from the last orgasm, but she wasn’t done.

She looked over at Smoke, seated in the balcony chair, legs spread wide, his dick hard and glistening, chest rising slow. His robe had fallen completely open. There was nothing patient about the way he looked at her now, his eyes low, heavy with hunger.

She walked back to him, climbed into his lap without a word.

Smoke gripped her hips instinctively. “That what you want, baby?”

She nodded, lips brushing his. “I want to ride it. Let me.”

He leaned back, voice deep. “Do your thing.”

Annie gripped him with one hand, guided him to her entrance, and eased down slowly. Her mouth parted in a breathless moan, and his hands tightened as she took every inch.

“Fuck,” he growled, head falling back.

Annie started to move, slow rolls of her hips that made her clit drag right across the base of his stomach. She kept her arms wrapped around him, her mouth near his ear, her moans soft and unfiltered, sweet and filthy all at once.

He licked his thumb, reached down between them, and pressed it to her clit. Her breath caught. The pace stuttered. She ground harder, then started bouncing. Her thighs slapping against his with every rise and fall.

“Daddy, shit! Yes–”

“Good girl,” he growled, rubbing tight circles on her clit while she fucked herself on his lap.

Smoke watched her, his jaw clenched, hands guiding her rhythm. He loved watching her take control; how she started slow, built the pressure, then began to bounce harder, deeper, faster.

Annie cried out, leaned in, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her breath hot against his ear.

“I’m close again,” she whispered.

“Take it,” he said. “This yours.”

She came again, shuddering in his lap, tight, wet, clenching around him so hard it made him hiss through his teeth. The orgasm hit her sharp and sudden, a wave that made her body tremble and her cunt flutter around him. She slumped forward, clinging to him, eyes closed, mouth open.

“Too much?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not done.”

Annie dropped to her knees between his legs, robe slipping completely off her shoulders. She dragged her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, then sucked him in with purpose.

Smoke leaned his head back against the chair, one hand gripping the armrest, the other fisting her hair.

“You tryna finish me off like that?”

She didn’t answer, just went deeper. Spit gathered at the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin, her eyes locked on his the whole time. She moaned around him, and the vibrations made his hips jerk.

He grunted, low and strained. “Don’t stop.”

She didn’t. And when he came, it was rough. His body tensing, a sharp groan ripping from his chest as he spilled across her tongue. Annie swallowed everything. Licked him clean. Then looked up at him like she knew exactly what she’d just done.

Smoke leaned forward, cupped her jaw, and kissed her slowly.

“Always mine,” he murmured.

She nodded, resting her head on his thigh, smiling against his skin.

“Always.”

-

The morning air was crisp and full of goodbye energy as everyone gathered at the driveway. Bags were being loaded, hugs exchanged, and the jet ski group chat began planning their next outing.

Annie stood near the car, clutching her travel bag, watching the others with a gentle smile. Smoke was right beside her, luggage at the ready. Mia and Kennedy were chatting with Smoke while Crystal and Stack talked quietly a few feet away.

An uneasy pause settled over the group.

Stack cleared his throat and walked over to Annie. “Can we talk?”

She nodded, slipping her arm out of Smoke's. “Sure.”

They stepped to the edge of the driveway, out of earshot.

“So, Annie,” Stack began, voice steady but low, “I wanted to say, I’m sorry. For everything. I never meant to hurt you like that.”

Annie closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “I forgive you.”

Stack’s relief was brief. “That means everything.”

She looked away, gaze distant. “But I…I regret us. I regret letting myself get tangled up for all those years. I wish I had never did that.” Her voice caught. She stopped.

Stack nodded slowly. Hurt flickered across his face. “I get it.”

They stood in silence for a beat, two people who once meant everything, now broken into something quiet.

Annie took a small step closer. “I hope you can forgive yourself, too.”

He offered her a sad smile. “I’ll try.”

They started to move back toward the others, but the moment was interrupted by a shout.

“Mia, stop!” Kennedy’s voice cracked across the yard.

Everyone’s heads snapped toward the porch just in time to see Mia, barefoot and furious, dragging Nina down the wooden front steps by her hair. Nina’s screams echoed, high-pitched and panicked, as she flailed in protest, trying and failing to get free.

“You trifling bitch!” Mia screamed, yanking harder. “Say one more slick thing about Annie! One more you bitch!”

Kennedy rushed down behind them, wrapping her arms around Mia from behind, trying to lift her off the ground. “Mia! Baby, let her go!”

But Mia was gone. She was pure adrenaline, rage, sharp and unforgiving. “This ho been running her mouth all weekend!”

Nina hit the bottom step hard, scrambling to sit up, clutching at her hair. “Get her away from me!”

Mia kicked off Kennedy’s grip just enough to spit, “Next time you speak on Annie, bitch, make sure you don’t have a wig I can rip off!”

Crystal was screaming, panicked, “Stack! Do something!”

But Stack just stood there staring, wide-eyed.

Smoke stood a few feet away, arms crossed, completely unfazed. He didn’t even blink. Annie stayed near the car, her hand on the door, eyes following everything but not moving to stop it. Because this wasn’t her fight. Mia had always been loud with her loyalty.

Kennedy finally got a solid grip and dragged Mia back toward the car.

“I’m good!” Mia yelled, yanking her arm from her wife’s hold. “Let me go. But I meant that shit!”

Kennedy opened the car door and physically pushed her inside. Mia stuck her head out the window before it closed and pointed directly at Annie.

“Call me, bitch. I got time.”

Then she disappeared into the car, and Kennedy peeled off seconds later, gravel spinning behind them.

The yard fell into stunned silence. Crystal was still breathing hard. Nina was crying, crumpled on the stairs. Stack looked like someone had just unplugged him from reality. Smoke calmly picked up the bags, walked around the back of the car, and loaded them into the trunk like it was any regular morning.

Annie didn’t say a word. Just walked to the passenger side. Smoke opened the door for her, kissed her shoulder, and helped her in like she was breakable.

Then he turned to Stack and said a simple, “Take care of her,” before closing the driver’s side door and starting the car. They pulled off without a second look. Because when it was over?

It was over.

-

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