#time for those overdue replies

[good-beans]

HOW DOES THE TIME PASS SO QUICKLY

"Oh, I'm in a server that does monthly drawing prompts, I still want to draw this one later even though I'm little late -- WAIT, THAT WAS TWO WHOLE MONTHS AGO???"

"Ah, I should update my ao3, I think I had a few drabbles to add -- ITS BEEN SINCE THE BEGINNING OF DECEMBER????"

[risingoftime]

I need a fic about Bo from sinners fastttttt😛😛😛😛😛

CHOW'S CORNER MARKET | BO CHOW X F!READER

SYNOPSIS: Returning to your hometown in the South, you see that a lot has changed, but many people have stayed the same. Bo Chow was one of them. Still behind the counter, still wearing that same unreadable expression, still Mei’s daddy… only now, you were old enough to notice how good he looked when he leaned back in that creaky stool, arms folded, eyes trailing just a little too long.

CONTAINS: 18+ mdni, age gap (reader is his daughter's friend), kissing, explicit sexual content, PDA, forbidden love, hard core yearning, widower bo chow, dry humping, Bo is a munch, public sex, oral, p in v.

A/N: i got you babe!! ;)

You never meant to return to this town, let alone set foot in the Chow’s grocery store. The bell above the door hadn’t even finished ringing when you saw him behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, cigarette tucked behind one ear. He hadn’t changed much. Still wore that tired smirk like he knew something about you that you wished he didn’t.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, not looking up immediately. “That’s what you always said, right? Said you’d burn if you stayed.”

You rolled your eyes in response. The past you was very theatrical, anything I opposed felt like the end of the world. You stepped past the fresh peaches. They smelled like summer spent on your Nana's porch, sippin' sugar water. “And yet here I am. Guess I didn’t burn fast enough.”

He finally looked at you. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught Bo staring at you, too long, back when you used to trail behind his daughter like a shadow. You were only a couple of years older than Mei, but those five years felt like lifetimes when you turned twenty-three and started noticing how Bo’s eyes followed you, carefully.

“You here for something?” he asked, voice low, half a joke and half serious. Bo Chow wasn't the type to play around, and sure as hell wasn’t one to beat around the bush. He didn’t blink as he looked you over. He waited as if he already knew the answer but wanted to hear you say it anyway.

You swallowed. The air inside the store felt humid, even though the fan whirred lazily overhead. “I came for peaches, and I plan on making a pie,” you said, picking one up. "But maybe you got something sweeter behind the counter.”

Bo stepped around it, wiped his hands on a towel. “Still got that charm in your voice,” he said, now close enough that you could feel the heat of him. His eyes dropped to your lips, lingered. “Bet you still know how to use it, too.”

“Learned it from watching you,” you replied.

Like candle wax down a spine, the tension burned slowly, teasing every nerve.

“You were just a youngin' back then,” he muttered, like he was trying to convince himself.

“And now?” you asked. “What do you see now, Bo?”

His gaze dropped to your mouth. And stayed there. “I see trouble,” he said. But he didn’t step away. Bo stood close, his fingers ghosting over the towel in his hands like he needed something to ground himself. You could hear the hum of the fridge behind you, the slow churn of old machinery and old feelings. Then, without thinking, you reached out.

Two fingers under his chin, tilting his face toward yours. A quiet challenge in your eyes. “If you see trouble, why aren’t you running?”

“Because I never could.” His jaw flexed under your touch.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. Bo wasn’t the gentle type. It was rough with restraint, the kind of kiss that tasted like heat and hunger and years of not now bottled into a single breath. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you in like gravity had finally given him permission to fall. Your back hit the counter, knocking a jar of honey loose. Neither of you noticed.

Your fingers fisted the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, mouths clashing like an argument long overdue. His lips were chapped, his stubble scraped against your skin, and when his tongue slid against yours, it felt like salvation disguised as sin.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” he growled against your lips.

“But you are,” you whispered, tasting guilt and citrus.

Bo’s hand slid down your waist, gripping your hip. His forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard, trying to regain control but failing.

Outside, a car door slammed. You both froze. Reality slipped in like a cold wind through a cracked window. His chest rose and fell. Yours did the same.

“You need to go,” he said, voice low and tight.

But neither of you moved. Because no matter how far you ran, this small-town store always brought you back to the same place with lips swollen, bruised, and hearts just stupid enough to try again.

Mei’s friend.

That should’ve been enough to stop him. Had been, for years. Yet now, you stood there, lips parted, breath catching, and he felt it again, the sharp pull low in his gut.

Bo remembered you when you were younger, full of questions and quick wit, always hanging around the shop afterwith the other youth, stealing pickled plums and grinning like she owned the world. But now? You weren’t that girl anymore. And he wasn’t a man built for restraint.

Your fingers were still in his shirt, waist pressed flush against the counter. You weren't going to pull away, you were waiting and baiting his response.

His hand drifted without permission up your thigh, over your curves. He wanted to curse himself for how easily his body betrayed him. Because God, she was warm. And she made him feel alive in a way nothing had in years. Not since Grace died and the world's weight settled into his bones and stayed there.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” he repeated, brushing his nose against hers, not quite kissing her again.

She smiled, slow and knowing. “And yet here I am. How often will you tell me what I should or shouldn't do?”

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I do.” Your voice was soft. “You’re the one pretending you don’t want it.”

Bo swore under his breath. His forehead hit hers again, harder this time. But when she confidently kissed him again, he let her. Let the whole world burn down around them. Because maybe he didn’t want to be good anymore.

Your fingers slid from his shirt to the nape of his neck, and just like that, he caved.

“Hold on,” he muttered against her lips. “Come on.”

Your eyes were already tracking him as he grabbed the keys off the hook and locked the store before closing all the blinds. The heavy metal clanged shut behind them, locking out the rest of the world and locking them in.

He backed her against the wall between sacks of jasmine rice and crates of long-forgotten sweets.

“You sure about this?” he asked, even as his hands were already sliding beneath the hem of your dress.

Your answer came in the form of curling your leg around his hip, pulling him into the space where only desire existed.

“You waited long enough, Bo,” you whispered, your voice thick with lust.“We both did.”

He lifted her like it was muscle memory. He’d dreamed of this too many times, not knowing how to do it by heart. Your back hit the wall. Bo buried his face in your neck.

“God forgive me,” he breathed.

When you moaned his name against his ear, he didn’t stop. In that moment, the woman, this girl who used to trail around with Mei like a shadow, had become a force of nature. And for once, Bo Chow let himself fall.

You grinded against Bo Chow's hard dick, already knowing the rhythm he hadn’t yet given you. His mouth found the hollow of your throat, tongue tracing the beat of your pulse as he pinned you to the wall.

“Bo, please!” You gasped as you searched for any friction he could give you and Bo felt it like a match to dry kindling. His hand slid up your back, fingers splaying wide, remembering the shape of your spine, the softness of skin he wasn’t supposed to touch.

“You feel that?” he growled into her neck. “How long you been waiting for this?”

“Long enough,” she said, breathless. “Long enough to know I don’t want you gentle.”

Bo pushed you harder against the wall, grinding his hips into yours with a slow roll that had your head dropping back, lips parted, eyes half-lidded with need. Your hands were under his shirt now, nails raking across his chest like she wanted to leave proof. Wanted to mark him. Own him.

She bit his bottom lip when he kissed her again, really kissed her this time, and he responded by sliding his hand between them, under her waistband, finding her already wet for him.

“Shit,” he muttered, fingers slipping through heat. “You’re soaked through your panties.”

She arched into his touch, shameless. “Told you. I’ve been thinking about this for years.”

A wave of pure, unfiltered longing surged through him, gripping his heart with an intensity that took him by surprise. She had no idea what kind of thoughts he’d buried just to survive around her. What kind of guilt lived in his chest every time she smiled too sweet or leaned too close.

And now? Now he had you underneath him, splayed across the desk.

“Hold on,” he said, voice rough and low.

Bo carried you across the store to the old desk in the corner, swept thereceipts off with one arm, laid you down like something sacred.

Then he dropped to his knees. Your breath caught.

“I thought you didn’t want gentle,” he smirked, kissing the inside of her thigh.

“I don’t,”

“Good.”

Bo Chow was done pretending. Tonight, he was going to taste every part of you that he'd denied himself for far too long. Bo took hold of your hips and dragged you to the edge with slow precision. He didn't break eye contact as he descended lower and lifted your dress to reveal your wet panties that stuck to your skin. Squirming under his gaze, breath stuttered when Bo kissed the creases when your thighs met your core.

The first stroke of Bo’s tongue had you grasping at the desk, a lewd whimper slipped loose from your mouth. You desperately thrust your hips to put more of your pussy in his mouth.

“You have such a perfect pussy” Bo rasped, low and rough. You tasted better than he imagined. His tongue worked slow at first, savoring. Drawing circles, teasing the sensitive parts until you trembled around his shoulders.

“Right there… that feels so good” Your voice cracked, and that was all the encouragement Bo needed.

Bo gripped you tighter and devoured you like a man starved. You arched, cursed, and even cried out with your body trembling with every flick and suck of his mouth. His name spilled from you like worship.

When he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to hit you G spot, your back left the table.

“That’s it,” he whined against her. “Let me have it.”

You came hard with your mouth open, and hands in his hair. Bo didn’t stop until you were twitching, breathless, wrecked.

When he finally rose, mouth glistening, chest heaving, your eyes met his. He leaned over you, pressed his forehead to yours, voice dark with promise.

He didn’t undress her, he roughly twisted her over, bent her bare chest against the cool wood of the desk, slid his pants just low enough, and guided himself into her with one steady, brutal thrust.

They both gasped. You were hot, tight, and still pulsing from before.

Bo planted himself deeper and deeper in you. The desk creaked under the beat. Your hand reached back to clutch his lower back, pulling him to drill into your insides, and he gave it to you. Every inch, every groan, every ounce of frustration and want he’d bottled up for years.

When he came, it was a full body surrender. He collapsed against her, both of them panting, and slick with sweat.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment.

And then, quietly, you asked, “What now?”

Bo didn’t have the answer.

[tfwbluu]

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader + jungwon

WARNINGS — 8th member!reader, hints of reader having smth with all of them, some mentions of reader’s appearance but i tried to keep it friendly for everyone, heejay cameo, blindfolds and cuffs again, threesome, oral (f. rec), raw sex (stay safe!), squirting, cum eating(?), double penetration (mouth + hole), edging, pet names, praise/degradation.

WORDCOUNT — 3.3K

NOTE — this was long overdue but it’s here! not beta read so sorry if it’s a bit wonky (not intentional). lots of warnings on this one so lmk if i missed anything !

It was another day of recording, this time for one of your b-sides, Brought the Heat Back. The concept was intense, and all of you were adorned in scratches and faux blood to match the gritty, rebellious aesthetic. You were dressed in an off-shoulder dress shirt held up by thin white straps, a loosely draped tie wrapped around your neck, flared jeans, and black short heels—only for the shoot, of course.

Your hair had been left mostly untouched, styled as you usually wore it, with the addition of a few silver accessories glinting under the lights. Your look was completed with simple hoops in your ears and fake snakebite piercings on your lower lip, which you kept fiddling with absentmindedly as you waited for the next take.

“(Name) got some cool lip piercings over mine being scratched up,” Jay suddenly commented, drawing the camera’s attention to you.

“Hm?” You looked up before leaning toward the camera with a playful smile. “Look, everyone, I got these piercings recently!” you joked, puckering your lips for emphasis.

Jay snorted, playing along. “I got hurt while eating, so I couldn’t get those.” He gestured toward the fake scratches on his face. “And I banged my head on a door while rushing to not be late!” He nodded to himself, satisfied with his joke, while you giggled softly.

The day carried on as usual, taking shots here and there while filming for the behind-the-scenes content. The shoot wrapped up smoothly, with everyone exchanging the customary “Good jobs” and words of gratitude. You sank into the couch with a satisfied sigh, the exhaustion from the day settling in, while the others began scattering to do their own thing.

As you leaned back, you felt a lingering gaze on you. Looking up, your eyes locked with Jungwon’s. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable but intense. Raising an eyebrow, you silently asked what he wanted.

“Meet me in my room later,” Jungwon murmured softly as he passed by, his voice low enough that only you could hear. His words sent a ripple of curiosity and nervousness through you, but you nodded in agreement without hesitation.

Later that evening, back at the dorms, Jungwon wasted no time. The moment you entered his room, he closed the door behind you and pressed you against it, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss.

“Mmph—Won, w-wait—” you tried to speak, your words muffled against his lips. But Jungwon simply grunted in response, his hands gripping your waist tightly as his body molded against yours.

“I can’t,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trailing down to your jaw before returning to your mouth, his kisses growing more desperate. “I’ve been holding back for so long, watching you with those lip piercings of yours.”

His thumb brushed against your lips, as he took a moment to look at you. “Please,” he murmured, his voice soft yet pleading. His gaze was fixated on your lips, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race.

A knock on the door made both of you flinch.

“Hyung, is Noona with you in there?” Riki’s voice rang from behind the door.

“What’s up, Riki?” you responded quickly, pushing Jungwon away slightly as you tried to tidy up your appearance.

“Can I come in? Need to give you something,” Riki replied, waiting for permission.

“Go ahead, Ki,” Jungwon muttered reluctantly, turning his back to the door to hide the growing tension in his pants. His annoyance was clear, though he tried to mask it. Meanwhile, you did your best to make yourself look presentable.

Riki stepped inside, holding a handful of snacks. “Got you these, Noona. You said you’d been craving them, right?” he said, handing them to you with a small smile.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks, Riki,” you replied, beaming in gratitude.

“Also, Hyung,” Riki added with a smirk, “if you’re gonna make out with someone, at least move away from the door. It’s obvious.”

Both you and Jungwon froze, snapping your heads toward him.

“Ha-ha, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jungwon muttered, feigning ignorance.

“Yes, you do,” Riki shot back. “It’s obvious you like Noona. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Jungwon’s jaw tightened, but before he could retort, Riki continued, his voice tinged with playful defiance. “I know that because I like her too, Hyung.”

Your head darted between the two of them, the tension in the room so thick it was almost suffocating. You set down the snacks Riki had brought you, your hands slightly trembling.

“Well… what now?” you asked nervously, your voice barely above a whisper. Both of their heads snapped toward you at the same time, their intense gazes locking onto you, making your cheeks flush as you quickly averted your eyes.

Perhaps it was instinct or an unspoken agreement between the two because, within moments, Jungwon pulled you into his embrace and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your waist with firm possessiveness. Before you could fully process it, you felt a warm chest press against your back—Riki’s.

“Stop being so greedy, Hyung,” Riki grumbled, pulling you away from Jungwon with a frown.

“Just say you’re jealous I got to her first,” Jungwon taunted, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“You wish. You’re delusional if you think you’ve won—Noona and I kissed long before you two did, which means I’m better,” Riki shot back, his pride shining through every word.

Jungwon’s smirk faltered briefly before he proposed, “Why don’t we let her decide?”

Both of their gazes locked onto you, making your cheeks burn as you tried to hide your face behind your hands.

“You two…” you mumbled, your voice small and flustered beyond belief.

“Can’t we show you who’s better at treating you, pretty?” Riki asked, his voice soft as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, Princess,” Jungwon murmured, pulling your hands from your face to press a tender kiss on your forehead. “Don’t feel pressured. Just say the word, and we’ll stop.”

“Yeah, Noona,” Riki added, his tone gentle. “We can wait. It’s your call.”

You stayed silent for a moment, your mind racing. Being the only woman in the group had its challenges—and its perks. This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed one of your members, but this situation was entirely different. As much as you wanted to deny the offer, the slick heat between your thighs betrayed you.

“Maybe… if you treat me well,” you finally said, your voice soft as you broke the tension, agreeing to their offer.

“Of course,” Jungwon replied smoothly, his tone gentle yet firm. “But first…”

Jungwon guided the three of you into a quiet discussion, his words careful and measured. He ensured everything was clear, setting boundaries and understanding your comfort level before anything else. The conversation was brief but reassuring, leaving you with a sense of ease.

It didn’t take long for things to escalate afterward. Now, you found yourself perched on Riki’s lap at the edge of the bed, his lips pressing against yours in a fiery, hungry kiss. Meanwhile, Jungwon’s soft shuffling filled the background as he rummaged through a drawer. “Just grabbing the necessities,” he muttered with a low chuckle, amusement lacing his tone.

Breaking the kiss, Riki’s lips moved down your body, leaving feather-light kisses on your neck. “Remember, you’re in control, angel. Just tell us if anything is too much,” Riki reassured, his lips now suckling on your neck.

When he found your sensitive spot, a small moan escaped your lips. “Oh, here?” Riki teased, sucking a bit harder on your skin.

“That tickles...” you muttered, squirming slightly away. Suddenly, your vision was obstructed—a blindfold covering your eyes.

“W-what’s this...?” you asked, your voice unsteady.

Jungwon was quick to respond, his voice smooth and teasing. “Guessing game, princess. You’ll have to figure out who’s touching you, kissing you, and fucking you. Get it right, and you’ll be rewarded. Get it wrong...” he trailed off, his hands roaming slowly down your body before settling on your breasts, squeezing and kneading until a soft moan slipped from your lips. “And you don’t get to cum until you do.”

“We’ll take care of you, angel. Just relax,” Riki murmured near your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His deft fingers began unbuttoning your shirt, and Jungwon, working in unison, slipped it off with ease before unhooking your bra. Within moments, you were left in just your bottoms. Jungwon’s hands quickly found your wrists, and before you could register what was happening, the soft click of cuffs secured your hands behind you.

“No touching, no seeing, baby. Just guess. You can do that, right?” Jungwon whispered, pulling you off Riki’s lap. He moved you to the couch in the middle of the room, propping your legs up. “Can I take them off?” his voice asked gently.

You nodded, letting out a soft, “Please.” He slid off your pants and panties in one motion, exposing your soaked core to the cool air.

The rustle of clothing in the background caught your attention as you breathed in anticipation. “Can one of you please just touch me alread—ah~!” you yelped as soft lips pressed against your folds, teasing your thighs as hands spread your legs. You couldn’t even tell who was doing it, but you were already moaning in need.

“Please, just do it already...” you whined, bucking your hips. A soft chuckle echoed before a tongue started leaving kitten licks on your wet folds. “Mhm, right there...” you sighed in relief.

They moved to suck on your clit, spreading your folds with their fingers before pushing them in. A loud scream escaped your lips, only to be muffled by a hand from behind you.

“Fuhhhghk...” you cursed against the hand, the one between your legs now curling their fingers inside your dripping pussy while teasing your clit with their tongue.

The man behind you toyed with your nipples, pinching and stroking them with one hand while keeping your sounds muffled with the other. Despite knowing the room was soundproof, you couldn’t help but wonder why he silenced you—until his fingers prodded your lips. Obediently, you opened your mouth, sucking on them as drool coated his fingers while he thrust them gently.

Wet lewd noises filled the room—the sound of your moans, your juices, and their synchronized movements blending together. The knot in your stomach tightened, making your hips buck against their tongue. The one behind you removed his fingers from your mouth, using your own drool to coat your nipples before playing with them softly.

Despite the blindfold obscuring your vision, you started piecing things together. The fingers working inside you felt slightly shorter than the ones that had been in your mouth. Leaning your head back slightly, you felt the firm outline of abs behind you, hinting at his height and build.

The sensations overwhelmed you, your moans growing louder as your release drew near. Desperate, you made a guess. “Please, Won… fuck… c-close!” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips in desperation.

“Good girl...” Jungwon’s voice confirmed your guess as he worked faster, his tongue and fingers driving you toward your peak.

“Jungwon…!” you cried out, trembling.

“I know, baby. Let go f’ me,” he murmured, watching intently as you finally let go, your body twitching uncontrollably before you squirted.

He immediately lapped up your juices, savoring the moment as he cleaned you up, leaving a soft kiss on your folds before pulling away with a satisfied hum.

“You can take a few more, right?” Riki said, his voice low and teasing as he pulled your head back for a heated kiss before slipping away from behind you, leaving you panting and trembling from the aftermath of your high.

The room was silent except for the rustling of movement and your ragged breathing. Your body trembled, overly sensitive, every nerve alight and begging for relief. Suddenly, your legs were lifted, propped against strong shoulders, the action sending a fresh wave of anticipation coursing through you.

A familiar pressure followed—a thick, hard tip tapping lightly against your clit, dragging along your slick folds in slow, teasing strokes before pausing at your entrance.

A whine escaped your lips at the unbearable sensitivity. Without warning, the head pushed in, stretching you inch by inch until they were fully seated inside. They started moving immediately, their thrusts slow and deliberate, dragging every nerve along your walls and leaving you gasping.

“Fuck… yes, yes, right there—hngh…” you babbled incoherently, the stretch filling you so perfectly it made your head spin. They weren’t especially long, but their girth was sinful, every stroke pulling you deeper into the haze.

The lack of sight amplified everything—every sound, every touch, every sensation. Your wrists strained against the cuffs, but there was no escape from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. Their pace picked up, hips snapping into yours, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin echoing through the room, mingling with your cries. The knot in your stomach tightened, the pressure building rapidly, but just as you teetered on the edge of release, they pulled out abruptly.

“No—please!” you cried, your voice raw and desperate as the emptiness left you shaking.

Laughter, low and teasing, sounded on either side of you. Their voices followed, disorienting you further as they whispered in unison, one voice in your left ear, the other in your right.

“You have to guess, baby,” one murmured, his tone sultry and amused.

“Guess it right, and maybe we’ll both reward you,” the other added, his voice a breathy tease.

Hands roamed your body, stroking, squeezing, teasing, but their touches were indistinguishable. The anticipation was maddening, your body twitching with every featherlight caress.

“Who was it, angel?” one asked, the whisper brushing against your ear, the heat of his breath making you shiver.

“Think carefully,” the other teased, his voice dangerously soft as his lips ghosted over your neck.

Your head spun, the sensory overload leaving you utterly at their mercy. Before you could answer, another set of hands slid up your thighs, lifting them slightly before a cock pressed back inside you, filling you in one smooth stroke. You gasped, your back arching as the rhythm began again, this time faster, more deliberate, coaxing every reaction out of you.

“Who is it?” one of them whispered, their tone deep and commanding, their lips brushing against the shell of your ear. A hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently, just enough to send a sharp spark of pleasure through you.

You opened your mouth to answer, but another voice purred against your lips before you could speak. “Careful, baby. Get it wrong, and we might have to start over.”

The stretch, the pace, the way they claimed you—it was impossible to think straight. Every sound, every movement, every word blended together, leaving you guessing, your mind a haze of desire and need.

“Take your time, princess,” one murmured, his lips grazing your jaw as the thrusts continued.

“No rush,” the other whispered, his tone dripping with amusement. “We’ve got all night.”

The overwhelming sensations made it nearly impossible to think straight. Your body trembled, teetering on the edge of delirium. Their teasing whispers, so close to your ears, blurred together, sending shivers down your spine.

‘Shit…’ you thought, barely able to focus, the lingering edge of your denied release making everything feel magnified. It didn’t help that the way they alternated, the subtle differences in their movements, forced you to pay attention to every inch of their touch.

“Ah—fuck!” you cried out suddenly as the current one inside you hit your g-spot with precision, causing your back to arch off the couch.

“Ahh, it’s right here, huh, angel?” he teased, his voice a deep growl as his lips brushed against your ear, his hips snapping harder and faster into you.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it, pretty?” the other murmured from beside you, his hand gripping your neck firmly, holding you steady as you squirmed beneath them.

The combination of sensations left you on the brink of being completely cock-drunk, your mind fuzzy and your body responding instinctively. But you forced yourself to focus, trying to distinguish between them.

The one before was a decent length, thick and stretching you with every thrust. But the one in you now? He was longer, thinner, reaching places that left you gasping for breath. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to gather your thoughts despite the way your body was screaming for more.

“Have you decided?” one of them asked, their tone a mix of amusement and anticipation.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally spoke, your voice hoarse and trembling. Your lips parted, the answer teetering on the edge of your tongue, as another thrust sent sparks shooting through your nerves, nearly making you second-guess yourself.

“W-Won then, Ki…?” you gasped, breath hitching as his thrusts slowed before he pulled out again, leaving you whining in frustration.

“My, you seem to know us so well, angel,” Riki's voice rang clearer now, no longer whispering.

“Gonna have to treat her to something good, right, Ki?” Jungwon added, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Such a smart girl.”

“Mhm… please, ’m yours…” you murmured, breathless, as they carried you back onto the bed, your head hanging slightly over the edge.

“Blindfolds—on or off?” Jungwon asked softly, standing over you, his gaze intense as his hands stroked himself gently.

“O-on.. please,” you replied, causing Riki to comment, “What a dirty girl,” His body suddenly pushing back into you with a swift move, making you yelp. He moved quickly against you, his arms holding your knees tightly.

“Shh, you’re so loud, baby,” Jungwon said, tapping his tip near your lips, causing you to open them obediently. “Or you wanna show how much of a cockslut you are, hmm?” he teased, moving gently into your mouth, your moans muffled sending vibrations through him.

Jungwon groaned as you hummed on his dick, holding onto the back of your neck to balance you as he fucked your mouth. “Such a good cockslut for us, right Ki?”

“Mhm, such a good girl for us.” Riki replied, biting his lips as he watched himself going in and out of you.

Feeling their cocks filling you both ways had your head spinning, waves of pleasure surging through your sensitive body. Your muffled moans sent vibrations along Jungwon’s length, drawing a low groan from him as he bucked his hips, his restraint fraying with each passing moment.

Both of them began to pick up their pace, Riki’s hands gripping your hips firmly. “Your pussy’s taking me in so perfectly, angel” he growled, his hips snapping into you with a steady rhythm.

“Such a pretty girl taking us both so well,” Jungwon praised, his hand stroking your flushed cheek as his hips continued their relentless rhythm in your mouth. He gazed down at you, a hint of admiration in his voice. “Close?”

You hummed weakly, the vibration sent a shudder through him, and his voice grew more strained as his release teetered on the edge.

“Cum for us, angel.”

The next morning, it was safe to say they found themselves in a rather questionable situation. The boys assumed you were still peacefully resting in bed after the events of the previous day. But the same couldn't be said for the other two.

“I can’t believe you two,” Heeseung said, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as the two youngest members sat awkwardly on the couch.

“Sorry—” Jungwon began, but you suddenly cut him off.

“Seung-ah, it’s fine,” you said, appearing in the doorway with a gentle smile. “Besides, I think you’re just jealous. If you want me, just say so, baby—but keep these two out of it.”

Heeseung froze for a moment, clearly trying to process your teasing words, before completely blowing a fuse. The two younger boys cried out in panic, while you giggled and walked off, ready to go back to sleep.

TAGLIST — @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny

[yukkiji]

surprise, baby

on his birthday, hinata thought you forgot—but what he didn't know was that you were already on a flight, halfway across the world, just to surprise and remind him you'd always be his favorite gift.

haikyuu masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. hinata shoyo x fem!reader

genre: fluff, romance, smut, timeskip!hinata

wc: 8.4k

warning: 18+ mdni., smut. nsfw. praise kink. oral (m and f receiving). multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. food play. hair pulling. dom!hinata. unprotected sex. hinata loves readers boobs. lingerie. multiple sex positions. slight voyeurism.

author's note: happy birthday shoyo! this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but i was so busy organizing some stuff huhu

he thought you forgot.

not in the dramatic, storming-out, shouting match kind of way.

but in that quiet, heavy kind of hurt—the one that sits in your chest all day, just waiting for something that never comes.

hinata had already gotten dozens of birthday greetings.

his teammates tackled him in the sand that morning with cheers and a beach-made cake. old friends lit up the group chat. even the landlady knocked on his door with a homemade papaya dessert and sang to him in soft, clumsy portuguese.

but you?

nothing.

but you hadn’t messaged him.

not a single word. not even a “hey.” not even a lazy emoji you sometimes sent when you were tired but still wanted him to know you remembered.

you had always been the first to greet him on his birthday. no matter the difference in time zones. no matter how late it was. even during those stretches where he was halfway across the world, even when you were sick and bedridden, even when he was mid-flight and unreachable—you still found a way. scheduled messages. early voice memos. paper letters you’d timed to arrive at the perfect moment. you’d never once let it pass unnoticed.

but today, there was nothing.

what hurt more was that this wasn’t just today. this was already the second day without a reply from you. his messages yesterday had gone unopened. his usual “good night, i love you” left hanging in the silence. unread. unseen. not even marked.

he had tried to keep himself together. had told himself that maybe you were swamped with work, or sleeping through a long overdue rest, or maybe something had come up and your phone was out of reach. but it was hard to hold onto those thoughts when the hours passed and still nothing came.

he wasn’t angry. he wasn’t even upset, not really.

he was just starting to feel small in the quiet. like maybe he had done something wrong without realizing it. like maybe something between you had shifted and no one had told him. like maybe you had simply… forgotten.

the thought settled into his chest heavier with each hour.

by the time his teammates pulled him to the beach to celebrate, he could barely fake the usual brightness he was known for. he still smiled, still spiked, still cheered when the ball hit sand—but his heart wasn’t in any of it.

his mind kept wandering back to his phone, to the empty screen that hadn’t lit up all day, to the absence of your name that usually came with a teasing message or a voice note just meant for him. the silence carved a hollow space inside him that only grew heavier with each passing hour. he tried not to show it, tried to laugh with his teammates, play like nothing was wrong, but he was sulking—quietly, bitterly. not the kind of sulking that came with loud complaints or visible tantrums, but the kind that settled deep in the chest, dragging everything else down with it.

when the sun had begun to set, casting long orange streaks across the shoreline, his teammates started packing up—their laughter fading into gentle goodbyes. they patted him on the back, ruffled his hair, and wished him a happy birthday one last time, their voices loud and warm, but none of it quite reaching the part of him that mattered. he smiled for them, because he always did, but it didn’t reach his eyes. the ache in his chest was still there, pulsing quietly beneath the surface, heavier now that the day was nearly over and still… nothing from you.

he slung the towel over his shoulder and walked barefoot through the sand, tracing the familiar path that led to the apartment building just a few minutes away. it stood right along the beachfront, nestled in the perfect corner of the coast, where he could still hear the waves crashing as he stepped off the sand and onto pavement. the air smelled like salt and sunscreen, but none of it felt like home the way it usually did. not without you. not with this silence still hanging between you.

opening his door, hinata could feel something shift in his chest. it wasn’t panic, not exactly—but something soft and startling, like a quiet breath held between beats. something didn’t feel right… but at the same time, it did. his eyes dropped to the floor, and there they were—your shoes, neatly placed beside his. not forgotten, not kicked off in a rush, but arranged carefully like you always did when you came over. like you belonged there.

his heart thudded hard against his ribs.

hope bloomed in his chest so suddenly, so fiercely, it almost hurt.

the scent hit him next. lavender. not the sharp kind from candles or air freshener, but the subtle, worn-in kind that always clung to your skin and clothes. like home. like you.

he stepped inside slowly, as if afraid that moving too fast would break the spell. each step down the hallway was cautious, reverent, like he was walking toward something sacred. and then—there they were. your luggages. two of them. sitting near the entrance, still zipped but clearly used, one with your little red tag hanging off the side.

hinata stood there, stunned, for a second too long. his mouth parted. his fingers twitched like he didn’t know what to do with them. and then, like a switch flipping in his chest, he was moving—quiet, quick steps through the hallway, pulse pounding in his ears, something between disbelief and joy burning behind his eyes.

he heard soft humming coming from the kitchen—faint, familiar, and achingly real. he held his breath as he turned the corner, half afraid he was dreaming. but there you were.

standing with your back to him, barefoot on the tile, wearing his shirt—the one you always stole from his closet, oversized and worn, the hem landing just at the tops of your thighs. there was no sign of shorts beneath it, just the bare stretch of your legs moving gently as you swayed to the quiet tune you were humming.

you looked so natural there, like you had never left. like you had always belonged in this space, in his space, in his shirt, humming like the silence hadn’t broken him all day.

hinata’s mouth went dry. his heart slammed against his ribs.

you turned toward him, still smiling, and in your hands was a small cake—messily decorated, the frosting slightly smudged at the edge, and a single candle planted right in the center. the kind of cake you probably had to sneak around to make or buy without him noticing. the kind that made his chest tighten with something overwhelming and warm.

“happy birthday, sho,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

he didn’t speak at first. his throat had closed up, his heart stuttering somewhere between disbelief and relief. he stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on you like you might disappear if he blinked.

“you…” his voice cracked. “you’re here?”

you nodded, smile deepening. “surprise.”

he stared for a second longer, then let out a shaky breath that sounded half like a laugh. “you’re the best birthday gift i’ve ever had.”

you lifted the cake slightly. “should i bring this over to the table or—”

“no,” he said, voice suddenly low, husky. “the cake can wait.”

your eyes widened slightly, heart jumping as he stepped in closer.

“sho—”

“no,” he repeated, curling a hand behind your neck and kissing you breathless. “you kept me waiting all day. two whole days. i thought you forgot me.”

his kiss was hungry, unrelenting, like he was trying to make up for every unread message, every unanswered call. he barely gave you time to set the cake down on the counter before his hands found your waist and lifted you onto it, mouth never leaving yours.

“you sulking was cute, though,” you teased, breathless between kisses.

“don’t,” he groaned, nipping at your lower lip. “i was fucking miserable.”

“guess i should make it up to you, huh?”

his hands slid up your thighs, pushing the hem of his own shirt higher, revealing bare skin and the edge of red lace. when he saw it—really saw it—his breath caught hard in his throat.

“you’re not wearing shorts,” he murmured, voice roughening. his gaze dipped lower, pupils dilating. “and is that…”

you nodded, biting your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “your favorite. figured you’d be greedy tonight.”

“greedy?” his voice dropped an octave, lips curling into something dangerous. “baby, you have no idea.”

hinata’s hands ghosted up the sides of your thighs, thumbs hooking under the edge of your shirt—his shirt—and in one slow, reverent motion, he peeled it off you.

his breath hitched again.

the red lace bra was barely anything—completely see-through, your nipples soft and peaked under the delicate floral pattern, the fabric kissing your skin like a whisper. his hands froze, breath stuttering out of him as his eyes dragged over you like he hadn’t seen you in years.

“holy shit,” he murmured, reverently. “you wore this for me?”

you nodded, lips parted, watching his jaw clench and unclench. “it’s been months since you’ve touched me, sho. figured i’d give you something to remember tonight by.”

“months,” he echoed, voice dropping. “yeah. too fucking long.”

his mouth was on your breast in the next second—licking over the sheer lace, tongue wet and hot as he swirled over your nipple before closing his lips around it and sucking. the friction of the fabric sent sparks shooting straight to your core. you gasped, back arching, and he groaned against your skin.

“fuck, i missed your taste,” he mumbled, moving to your other breast. “missed everything. the way you sound, the way you moan, the way you fall apart for me.”

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl.

and then, without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of the counter.

his hands slid down your thighs again, and he kissed the inside of your knee like it was sacred. “stay right there, baby.”

you shivered as he spread your legs wide on the counter, eyes locked with yours the entire time.

“look at you,” he whispered. “you’re already so wet for me.”

your panties—thin, red, and nearly transparent—were soaked through. the triangle of fabric barely covered you, and from his position between your thighs, the evidence of your arousal glistened even through the lace.

he didn’t touch yet.

instead, he leaned in, tongue flat and hot as he licked the wet fabric slowly, from bottom to top, groaning into you like he was starved. the sensation made your thighs twitch, your body instinctively rocking toward his mouth.

“fuck—sho—”

“mmhm,” he hummed, doing it again. “you taste just as good through this. but i want more.”

he pulled the panties aside, fingers sliding the soaked lace down your legs and tossing it somewhere behind him. your cunt was exposed now, dripping, desperate.

“perfect,” he said softly, almost in awe. “absolutely perfect.”

then—he smirked, reached over the counter, and grabbed the little cake.

“sho?” you blinked.

he dipped his finger into the frosting, gathered a dollop, and smeared it gently over your clit.

“you surprised me,” he said, licking the icing off his fingertip. “so i’m returning the favor.”

and then he devoured you.

his mouth latched onto your icing-covered clit, tongue flicking, sucking, licking in slow, messy circles as you cried out and gripped the edge of the counter. the mixture of sweetness and heat made your head spin. his tongue was relentless—pressing into you, tracing every inch, flicking just right as he sucked the icing clean, only to go again like he couldn’t get enough.

your hips rolled into his face. he groaned like it was heaven.

“taste even better than i remember,” he said between licks, voice muffled, tongue greedy. “missed this. missed you.”

“sho—i’m gonna—!”

he flattened his tongue and circled harder, letting your orgasm crash over you right there on the counter. your moans echoed off the kitchen tiles, and your thighs clamped around his head. he stayed buried, licking you through the waves, only pulling back when you slumped forward, gasping.

“one,” he said with a grin, licking his lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

your eyes fluttered, still hazy. “oh my god…”

before you could recover, hinata leaned in and kissed you again—slow and deep, tongue curling against yours, mouth tasting of sugar and sin. his hands moved with purpose, slipping behind your back, fingers unclasping your bra in one practiced motion. he didn’t even wait for it to slide off completely before trailing his kisses downward, lips hot and eager against your neck, your collarbone, the slope between your breasts. he was leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses that turned into love bites, dotting your skin with little red blooms, hungry to worship every inch of you he’d been missing.

but when he reached the valley of your chest, his breath hot and panting against your skin, you suddenly pushed him back with a palm to his shoulder.

“wait—” he blinked at you, slightly breathless, confused and aroused all at once. “what’s wrong?”

you smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief as you reached for the small frosting piping bag you had made earlier. the one you used to decorate his cake just hours ago. you didn't say a word as you squeezed the tip and drew a slow, teasing swirl right over one nipple—then the other. thick, glossy icing coated your skin in spirals and streaks, and you didn’t stop there. you smeared it with your fingers, dragging it across your breasts, sticky and sweet, your breath hitching at the sensation.

it was messy. decadent. obscene. and the sticky chill of frosting mixing with your heat made your nipples pebble instantly.

“holy fuck,” hinata breathed.

you bit your lip, watching his jaw flex as he stared at you—at your breasts, now gleaming with icing, skin flushed and shimmering. you felt sticky, yes, but your horniness drowned out everything else. the way he looked at you—like he was unraveling—made your core clench.

“you’re really trying to kill me,” he muttered, kneeling again with purpose. “you know that?”

“i’m just giving you your birthday cake,” you teased, voice husky. “what, don’t you want a taste?”

hinata didn’t answer. he just dove in.

his tongue dragged a long, slow line up your breast, collecting frosting and saliva in one warm pass. you gasped, fingers flying into his hair, hips instinctively arching toward him. he latched onto one nipple, groaning at the mix of sweet and skin, sucking greedily before switching to the other—licking, nibbling, moaning like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

and maybe it was.

“so good,” he breathed between licks. “you’re so fucking sweet, baby.”

his mouth left your skin with a wet sound, only for him to grab the piping bag from your lax fingers. he gave you a look—mischievous, ravenous—and squeezed another thick swirl of icing directly onto your already overstimulated, perked-up nipple. the cool frosting made you shiver violently, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat.

“let’s see how much more you can take,” he murmured, licking his lips, eyes locked on your chest like a man worshiping something divine.

you could feel it now—the heat between your legs turning molten. your slickness was dripping onto the counter, a soft obscene sound every time your thighs shifted. it was shameless, messy, and utterly overwhelming. but you didn’t care. not when he looked at you like this. not when his tongue was back on your chest, slowly, torturously licking the icing off again—sucking your nipple into his mouth and groaning deep in his throat like he needed it to live.

you whimpered, arching toward him, fingers trembling as they gripped the edge of the counter behind you. your pussy throbbed—clenching around nothing, begging for his fingers, his tongue, his cock—anything.

hinata’s mouth never left your chest.

he squeezed the last bit of frosting from the piping bag, slow and deliberate, letting thick spirals drip onto your breasts. he painted over the curve of one, then the other, covering your skin in messy loops until the whole surface was sticky, shimmering in sugar and saliva. your nipples were red, achingly hard, buried under icing and his insistent tongue.

“fuck, you’re unreal,” he groaned as he licked across your sternum, dragging his mouth from one nipple to the other, switching between soft sucks and sharp flicks of his tongue. “so fucking good. so soft. i could do this all night.”

he was doing it all night.

each slow drag of his mouth made your thighs tremble. your core ached from neglect, slick pooling between your legs, soaking the counter beneath you. you needed relief—needed it—but he was still so focused on your breasts, on cleaning up every bit of the mess he made. the frosting was almost gone now, melting into your skin from his body heat and saliva, leaving behind a sticky sheen that only made everything filthier.

desperate, you let one hand trail down your stomach, slipping between your thighs. your fingers found your clit instantly—wet, swollen, throbbing—and you began to rub tight, fast circles, chasing your second orgasm. your eyes fluttered shut, lips parting in a gasp.

and then suddenly—slap.

a sharp sound filled the air. your hand jerked away on instinct.

hinata had slapped it.

“ah—sho—”

his eyes were dark. mouth still glistening, fingers gripping your wrist as he pulled your hand away from your pussy. his jaw clenched as he stared at you—something between mock scolding and complete lust.

“you really think i’m gonna let you do that yourself?” he growled, grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer to the edge of the counter. “you’re mine tonight. only i get to make you cum.”

before you could answer, two fingers slid inside you—deep, fast, curling just right. you gasped, legs flying open wider as your walls clenched down hard. hinata leaned forward again, still playing with your breasts, licking and sucking, all while his fingers thrust deep into your soaked pussy, curling up into your sweet spot over and over again.

“fuck—you’re already so tight,” he grunted, voice low against your chest. “you were gonna come without me, huh? greedy little thing.”

your hips bucked, moans pouring out of you as his fingers worked you faster, thumb circling your clit in perfect sync. your body was already on edge—still sensitive from the first orgasm, hypersensitive from his mouth, the frosting, the heat, everything.

“sh-sho—i’m gonna—!”

“yeah, you are,” he murmured, dragging his tongue across your nipple again. “give it to me, baby. let me feel you.”

your eyes rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as your second orgasm ripped through you. your walls spasmed around his fingers, juices gushing out and soaking his hand, your thighs, the counter. hinata groaned at the sight, watching you unravel—your body arching, tits bouncing, mouth slack with pleasure.

he didn't stop right away. his fingers slowed, easing you down from the high, but he was still inside you, still pressing soft kisses across your sticky, marked-up chest like he wasn’t finished yet.

because he wasn’t.

hinata grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off the counter, steadying you when your legs wobbled from the two orgasms he’d already pulled from you. your skin was flushed and still glistening—sticky from sweat and frosting, breasts shining from his tongue and attention. you were bare, completely, the red lace discarded somewhere behind you, leaving nothing between you and his greedy hands.

he turned you around gently, and you let him—your palms bracing the edge of the counter again as he took a moment to admire you. your back arched, hips tilted up, ass fully on display—slick dripping down your thighs. you felt his hand trail up your spine slowly, fingers light and reverent. then came his mouth.

he pressed soft kisses along your back, trailing down your spine like a slow fuse of heat. when he reached your lower back, he groaned quietly, then dropped to his knees again.

his lips pressed to the crease where your thigh met your ass, kissing slowly before his tongue dipped lower—licking a long stripe through your folds.

you shuddered, gripping the counter.

“so fucking wet,” he murmured, voice thick, just inches from your core. “and i haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

his mouth sealed over your clit in the next second, sucking hard.

you cried out, knees buckling slightly. his hands gripped your ass firmly to keep you upright, spreading you open wider. he devoured you like he was starved—groaning against your pussy, tongue moving in slow, thorough circles until your moans turned shaky again.

when you clenched around nothing, desperate for more, he pulled away with one last lick, standing quickly. and before you could even turn around, he spun you to face him and caught your mouth in another deep kiss—messy, wet, tasting entirely of your arousal.

you whimpered into it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders just as his hands found your thighs.

he picked you up with ease—your bare, slick body clinging to his like you belonged there. instinct had you wrapping your legs around his waist, the heat of his cock pressing against your pussy through the fabric of his shorts, your body arching toward him, needing friction.

your hands fumbled at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his chest. he broke the kiss just long enough to pull it off and toss it aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

“bed?” you breathed against his lips.

hinata didn’t say a word. he carried you down the hallway like you were weightless, like he needed you in the bedroom now.

your back hit the mattress seconds later, the sheets cool against your overheated skin. hinata hovered over you, bare-chested and flushed, his eyes dark with something raw and aching. but it was his body—broad and lean with muscle, every inch of him toned and golden from the brazilian sun—that made your breath hitch. his shoulders looked wider, his arms more defined, and his chest, glistening slightly with sweat, flexed as he held himself over you. his abs tensed with every breath. he was bigger. stronger. tan and utterly unfair. the sight of him alone made your pussy clench with need.

“you got hotter,” you whispered, breathless, fingers trailing down the sharp cut of his abs.

he smirked, leaning closer until his lips hovered just above yours. “you’re one to talk,” he murmured, eyes raking down your naked body like he was starving. “you’re dripping. i’ve barely touched you again.”

and just like that, he kissed you—deep and full of promise—like he planned to make good on every filthy thought running through his mind.

your chest rose and fell as you stared up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, body already aching in all the right places. he looked like a dream above you—hair messy, golden skin glowing in the low light, chest still heaving from how tightly he’d held himself back. but you wanted to give him something too. needed to.

“can i suck you off?” you whispered, voice shy but laced with hunger.

his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring just slightly. you watched the way his cock twitched beneath the waistband of his shorts. he didn’t answer at first—just sat back, chest rising with anticipation as he shifted to the edge of the bed and spread his legs slightly, his eyes locked on yours.

“you wanna be my good girl tonight?” he murmured, voice thick, already dazed from how ruined you looked.

you nodded eagerly, slipping off the bed and dropping to your knees on the floor in front of him, your bare body catching the dim light, curves still flushed and slick from everything he'd already done. your eyes met his, lips parted as your fingers reached for his waistband. he raised his hips to help, letting you pull his shorts and briefs down in one slow motion.

his cock sprang free—hard, flushed at the tip, already leaking with precum. you licked your lips at the sight.

“so pretty,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around the base and giving him a slow stroke.

hinata groaned low in his throat, one hand sinking into your hair. “fuck, you look so good on your knees. my pretty girl.”

you leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at the bead of precum at the tip. his thighs tensed, and you smiled—then dragged your tongue slowly along the underside of his cock, licking from base to tip like you were savoring it.

“just like that,” he breathed, eyes heavy. “such a good girl for me…”

you wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly began to take him deeper. your hand stroked what your mouth couldn’t reach yet, and you could feel his grip in your hair tighten—gentle but possessive, like he didn’t want to let go.

his head fell back slightly, a moan slipping from his lips as you bobbed your head, tongue swirling, sucking harder when he twitched in your mouth.

“fuck, baby…” he hissed, hips jerking slightly. “your mouth feels like heaven.”

he looked down again, watching you with blown pupils, chest rising and falling harder now. “look at you… on your knees for me, taking it so well. such a fucking good girl.”

you moaned around him in response, loving the way his praise made heat coil in your belly all over again. spit dribbled from the corner of your mouth, but you didn’t stop—not when his muscles tensed, not when his voice dropped into a groan that sounded like it had been building for weeks.

“you keep going like that,” he warned, voice almost breaking, “and i’m gonna cum down that pretty throat.”

your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, moaning softly around him—loving the weight of his cock on your tongue, the way his fingers threaded so gently through your hair, thumb brushing over your cheek like you were fragile in his hands.

but you weren’t. not for him.

and hinata knew it.

without a word, he fisted your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulled you back just an inch—just enough to look down into your eyes with something dark and hungry swimming in his.

“fuck, look at you,” he groaned. “all pretty and desperate. you can take it, right? be my good girl and take it?”

you nodded as best you could, lips stretching wide again as you opened up for him, tongue flat, throat ready.

then he moved.

his hips thrust forward sharply—fucking his cock deep into your mouth, the head hitting the back of your throat on the second thrust. your hands scrambled to brace against his thighs, nails digging into the hard muscle as tears pricked your eyes instantly.

“shit—shit,” hinata moaned, his voice unraveling. “that’s it, baby, take it— god, just like that—”

his pace quickened, shallow but fast, each thrust pushing deeper down your throat. spit was dripping from your chin now, the obscene wet sounds of your mouth echoing through the room. your eyes blurred with tears, mascara streaking, but you didn’t care. you moaned around him, letting him use your mouth, letting the pleasure of being his favorite ruin wash through you.

he looked down and groaned hard—seeing you with glassy, wet eyes and flushed cheeks, his cock buried in your throat, lips stretched and drool coating your chin.

“fuck, you’re so pretty like this,” he panted. “ruined just for me.”

you blinked up at him, eyes overflowing, and that was what did it.

he groaned deep from his chest, hips stuttering. “gonna cum—baby, fuck—”

he pulled out just before the edge, hand still tight in your hair as his cock twitched in front of your lips, thick ropes of cum spilling across your tongue and chin as he moaned your name like a prayer. some of it dripped down your chest, streaking across your already sticky skin and frosting-coated breasts.

you swallowed what you could, licking him clean with slow, teasing swipes of your tongue.

when you finally looked up at him again, breathing heavy, cheeks flushed, makeup utterly destroyed—mascara smudged, eyeliner running, lipstick long gone—he just stared. eyes wide. mesmerized.

“jesus,” he breathed. “you look so fucking hot like this.”

his thumb reached to wipe under your eye, smearing the tears and makeup even more.

“my pretty girl,” he whispered, voice thick with lust and awe as he pulled you up into his lap. his hands were steady on your hips, grounding you, while his cock—still slick from your mouth and already twitching back to life—pressed hot and heavy against your thigh.

you felt the ache in your core pulse with need, the emptiness of the past months catching up to you all at once. his fingers squeezed your waist gently, guiding you as you raised yourself onto your knees. the tip of his cock brushed against your folds, and you both gasped at the contact.

“fuck, i missed you,” you murmured, forehead resting against his. “missed this. missed you.”

hinata’s eyes flickered up to yours, jaw clenched with restraint. “baby, you have no idea how long i’ve dreamed about this.”

you began to sink down slowly, your hands bracing against his shoulders. the stretch was intense after so long—months of nothing but phone sex, teasing words whispered across staticky calls, fingers between your own thighs as you imagined it was him instead. and now he was here, hot and hard and deep, splitting you open in the most perfect way.

your head fell back, a moan tumbling from your lips. “god—shoyo—you feel so good. i almost forgot how big you are…”

his grip tightened. “yeah?” he panted, watching every inch as you slid down him. “forgot how full i make you feel, baby?”

“mhm—fuck, yes—i tried,” you gasped, your thighs trembling as you bottomed out fully, his cock buried deep inside. “but nothing—nothing compares to this. to you.”

you could feel everything. every vein, every pulse. he filled you so completely, so perfectly, it was almost overwhelming.

“used to fuck myself thinking about this,” you confessed breathlessly, hips already beginning to rock, slow and desperate. “had to put my pillow between my legs while i listened to you on the phone—pretending it was you.”

hinata groaned deep, his head falling against your shoulder. “fuck—baby—you’re killing me.”

his hands slid down to your ass, squeezing hard as you began to move, riding him with long, slow grinds. he met your rhythm, thrusting up to meet you as his mouth found your neck again.

“you think i didn’t do the same?” he muttered into your skin. “jerking off with my phone on my chest, moaning your name, fucking my hand while i imagined you saying ‘please, shoyo, cum inside me’.”

you clenched around him at the words, whimpering.

“i need you to,” you cried. “please—i want to feel you fill me again.”

“oh baby,” he rasped, guiding your hips harder now. “i’m gonna give it to you. again and again. until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

and from the way you started bouncing faster on his cock, your body already arching with building pleasure, he knew you wanted exactly that.

and from the way you started bouncing faster on his cock, your body already arching with building pleasure, he knew you wanted exactly that.

hinata’s gaze dropped, utterly mesmerized.

your breasts moved with every bounce—soft, flushed, still faintly sticky from the frosting he’d licked off earlier—and it was hypnotic. they jiggled beautifully each time your hips met his, your body riding him with abandon. his hands gripped your waist, then slid up slowly to cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper even harder.

“look at you,” he breathed, voice trembling. “so fucking perfect—fuck—these tits, baby, they were made for me to touch, weren’t they?”

you nodded, already breathless, crying out when he pinched your nipples between his fingers just enough to sting.

“say it,” he demanded, rutting up into you as your thighs started to shake.

“they’re yours,” you gasped, hands clawing at his shoulders for balance. “they’re all yours, shoyo—everything. my body, my pussy—fuck—yours.”

his mouth found your breast again, tongue swirling around your nipple as he slammed up into you, the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoing in the room. you nearly sobbed from the pressure building inside, his cock hitting all the right spots, your clit brushing perfectly against his pelvis with every bounce.

he leaned back just a little, eyes wild, watching your slick drip down his cock every time you lifted your hips.

“you gonna cum again for me?” he asked, voice low, desperate. “gonna cum while i’m still deep inside you?”

you nodded frantically, tears pricking your eyes. “yes—yes, baby, i’m so close, don’t stop—”

and he didn’t. his grip on your hips turned bruising, his cock thrusting up with more urgency as he chased your high right alongside his own.

“good girl,” he growled, his lips trailing back up to yours. “cum for me, my pretty girl. be good and let me feel you—”

you shattered with a scream, walls clenching so tightly around him that it made his hips stutter. your orgasm crashed through you like a wave, your entire body trembling in his lap, thighs locking tight around him.

hinata barely held on—his own orgasm hitting seconds after yours. he groaned your name, hips jerking erratically as he emptied inside of you, cock twitching deep within your fluttering walls.

he held you close as you both trembled, sweat slicked skin sticking together, your forehead against his as you caught your breath.

and when he finally pulled back to look at you, his cum already starting to drip down your inner thighs, he only smiled.

“fuck… we’re doing that again,” he whispered. “many times.”

and true to his words, he had you on your back seconds later, your legs folded high against your chest, his hands pinning them there as he settled between your thighs. the position had you completely open to him—spread wide and vulnerable, slick and swollen, still pulsing from your last orgasm.

his cock slid back inside with little resistance, the stretch just as deep and satisfying as the first time. you both moaned in unison, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he bottomed out completely.

“this—” hinata hissed through clenched teeth, “—this is where i belong. right here, inside you.”

he pressed forward, folding you tighter beneath him, his face just inches above yours as his hips began to roll. each thrust was deep, slow at first—measured and purposeful—making sure you felt every inch of him. your breath hitched with every movement, nails raking down his back as he filled you up all over again.

“you feel so fucking good,” he gritted out. “so wet, so tight. like you were made for me, baby.”

“i was,” you moaned, barely coherent. “shoyo, please—don’t stop—i want more.”

“yeah?” he growled, pace quickening. “you want more? my greedy girl.”

he leaned down, lips brushing against yours as his thrusts picked up, cock slamming into you with a force that had the headboard knocking against the wall. your breasts bounced with every movement, body jolting with the pressure and pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress.

his praise was relentless—“that’s it, take it like the good girl you are,” and “so tight, baby, always clenching around me like you don’t want to let me go.” his mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing and biting, marking you as his.

and all you could do was take it. the angle was perfect—his cock hitting so deep you swore you saw stars. your moans became cries, your hands flying to his back, then to his arms, your legs trembling in his hold as another orgasm built like fire in your core.

“gonna cum again, baby?” he panted, his voice hoarse. “cum on this cock for me—make a mess all over me again.”

“shoyo—oh my god—yes, yes, i’m gonna—!”

you shattered beneath him, the pressure too much, your orgasm ripping through you hard enough to make your vision blur. you screamed his name, body locking up under his relentless pace as you gushed around him, slick and heat coating his cock.

he groaned loud and deep when he felt you cum, his hips jerking wildly before he drove in one last time and spilled inside you again. hot and thick and overwhelming, it filled you up, his cock twitching deep as he rode out the waves of his own climax.

but even when you were shaking, overstimulated, whining from the sensitivity—he didn’t pull out.

he just leaned down, kissing your lips tenderly as he whispered, “one more, baby. just one more. you can give me that, right?”

you barely had time to recover before he was moving again, his strong arms flipping you onto your stomach with ease. your cheek pressed into the pillows, legs still trembling when you felt the blunt head of his cock nudging your entrance from behind.

“up, baby,” he whispered, voice low and wrecked. “on your hands for me.”

you obeyed, slowly pushing yourself up on shaky arms, arching your back the way you knew he liked—your ass high, your slick glistening in the low light of the bedroom.

“fuck,” he hissed, running his hands over your hips. “look at this. you’re dripping.”

with a low groan, he pushed back into you—deep, hard, one fluid thrust that made you cry out, your arms shaking beneath you.

his pace was ruthless, hips slamming against your ass with a wet, loud rhythm, his groans matching your broken moans. he gripped your waist tightly, angling just right to hit the deepest part of you with every thrust, and it was dizzying.

“sh-shoyo, i can’t—” you gasped, tears forming in your eyes again from the intensity. “feels too good—”

“yes, you can,” he growled. “you’ve been so good for me. my pretty girl can take it.”

and just as you felt him twitch, just when you knew he was close, hinata did something that made your breath completely vanish.

he pulled you up.

his arm wrapped tight around your waist and dragged you against him, your back hitting his sweaty chest as he stayed buried inside you. you moaned out loud, the new angle even deeper—fuller—your neck falling back against his shoulder.

his other hand found your breast, groping the soft flesh, playing with your nipple as he kissed the shell of your ear. his cock was still thrusting, deep and purposeful, while his fingers slid between your legs again, finding your clit and circling it with skill that had your knees buckling.

“shoyo—please—”

“you’re so close,” he panted into your ear, grinding his cock deeper. “i can feel you. clenching around me like you’re trying to milk me dry.”

his fingers worked your clit faster, his other hand tugging at your nipple, and the heat inside your belly snapped—your fourth orgasm tearing through you like lightning. you screamed his name, your entire body shaking in his arms, his cock locked tight inside your pulsing walls.

“fuck, that’s it—that’s it,” he growled, and with one more deep thrust, he buried himself fully inside and came hard.

hot spurts filled you again, his hips jerking, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he held you tightly, both of you trembling from the intensity. you felt everything—his arms around you, his lips on your neck, his cum dripping down your thighs—and you never wanted it to stop.

“my girl,” he breathed, still rocking gently inside you. “my pretty, perfect, greedy girl.”

and when you finally collapsed forward onto the bed, boneless and spent, he followed—blanketing your body with his, still hard inside you, not ready to let go.

not yet.

you should’ve been asleep. after everything—after all those orgasms, after his cum still dripping between your thighs—you should’ve been done.

but the way hinata’s lips kissed the sweat off your shoulder and how his hands gently kneaded your hips as he whispered, “one more, baby. i want to taste you again…”—you couldn’t say no.

and that’s how you found yourself on the chair outside on his balcony, the night air cool against your sticky skin. rio’s glow shimmered in the distance, a faint breeze brushing over your fever-warmed body. your legs were spread wide over the arms of the chair, your pussy already glistening, open and wet from everything he gave you earlier.

hinata knelt before you like a man starved, eyes locked on your core like it was the only thing in the world he craved.

“look at you,” he muttered, voice low with awe. “still leaking from me. fuck, i missed this taste.”

his hands slid beneath your thighs, gripping tight, and when his tongue made first contact—flat and slow from base to clit—you moaned loud enough that someone might have heard.

you didn’t care.

your hands immediately found your breasts, fingers tugging at your own nipples as your head dropped back against the chair. the red lace had long been discarded, and now you were bare under the stars, on full display, as hinata devoured you like a man possessed.

he noticed what you were doing, of course. “god, look at you,” he rasped between licks. “touching your pretty tits while i eat you out. do you have any idea how fucking hot that is?”

you whimpered, twisting your nipples harder, the sensation mixing with the slick flicks of his tongue, the rough scrape of his teeth, and the soft suction around your clit that sent shocks of pleasure down your spine.

he moaned into you when he felt you start to shake again.

“that’s it. cum for me, baby. make a mess all over me.”

and you did.

your body seized, the orgasm crashing into you so violently it left you breathless. your legs trembled uncontrollably, and when he didn’t stop—when he kept licking, sucking, growling—you squirted, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as your hips bucked into his face.

but hinata didn’t pull back.

he groaned as you squirted again, wetter this time, your juices splashing onto his tongue and chin. he pulled back for just a moment, absolutely soaked, grinning as he wiped his face with the back of his hand and said, “fuck, i missed this pussy. she missed me too, huh?”

your body was still twitching in the chair when he stood, his cock rock-hard again.

he didn’t even wait.

he pulled you up, turned the chair slightly to face the view, and bent you over the armrest with your ass presented perfectly for him. he slid back into you with ease, a deep, wet glide that had you both moaning.

“sh-shoyo—i can’t,” you whimpered.

“yes, you can,” he growled, thrusting deep. “i need to feel you cum one more time.”

and he fucked you like he meant it—fast, hard, hips snapping against your ass, his hand sneaking between your legs to play with your clit again. your breasts bounced with every thrust, still sensitive, and your moans echoed off the quiet buildings.

“gonna make you squirt again,” he panted, voice wild, one hand gripping your hip while the other found your breast—kneading it roughly, fingers pinching at your sensitive nipple. “gonna fuck it out of you.”

you cried out, trembling beneath him, every nerve ending already alight. “shoyo—i don’t… i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growled against your ear, his thrusts picking up again, deep and hungry. “you’re doing so good. taking me so well.”

your body jolted with each stroke, his cock dragging against every slick, swollen inch inside you. your breasts bounced in his hands, too sensitive, too raw, but you didn’t want him to stop. your legs were weak, hips slapping against the edge of the chair, but all you could think about was how full you felt. how deep he was. how he just kept going.

you were already overstimulated—eyes wet, chest flushed, every moan breaking in your throat—but the way he filled you, the way his voice dripped with praise and hunger, you wanted it.

and then—

you shattered.

your release hit like a tidal wave, your body seizing as you squirted again, helplessly, soaking his hips and thighs. you moaned—sobbed—as the wetness gushed out of you, dripping down your legs, splashing onto the chair and hinata’s body.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned, watching it happen with a mix of awe and pure arousal. “look at you. so messy for me.”

you thought he might stop, let you catch your breath—but he didn’t.

he kept thrusting, slower now but just as deep, chasing his own high, both hands now gripping your waist tight.

you were shaking, overstimulated and aching, but you didn’t want him to pull out. you needed it—you needed him.

and with a low, broken moan, he buried himself one final time, his hips pressed flush against your ass as he came. hot, thick release filled you, pulse after pulse, warmth flooding deep inside.

he didn’t move for a moment, just breathed raggedly against your back, arms wrapped around you.

when he finally pulled out, his cock slid free with a wet sound, and your body gave a little involuntary shudder. his cum was already dripping from your swollen folds—thick and slow and so much of it. some of it smeared down your inner thighs, mixing with your slick and everything else he’d wrung from you tonight.

he reached down lazily, dragging two fingers through the mess between your legs and groaned softly. “fuck… i’m gonna be thinking about this for weeks.”

you were boneless in his arms, utterly spent, skin still sticky with sweat and your release. outside, the night had quieted. the air was humid with the sea breeze drifting through the open windows, but the heat that had built between your bodies still clung to your skin.

without a word, hinata scooped you up.

you didn’t resist. couldn’t, really. your muscles had melted into a hazy tremble, and the soft hum of afterglow blurred your senses. your cheek rested against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering shut as he walked you into the bathroom.

the scent of lavender hit you first.

you blinked, dazed, as you noticed the tub already filling. he must’ve turned it on before the last round. steam rolled off the surface of the water, laced with a familiar calming fragrance. one of the bath oils you always left in the cabinet.

"figured you'd want this after your flight," he said softly, kneeling down with you still in his arms before gently sliding you into the tub.

a small gasp escaped your lips as the warm water wrapped around your tired body like a second skin. you leaned back against the ceramic edge with a sigh, feeling the first ripple of relief loosen your aching limbs.

but then he stepped in, too.

hinata lowered himself behind you, his long legs bracketing yours as he pulled you against his chest. his skin was so warm. his arms—so solid—wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him. you felt small in his hold, delicate even after everything he’d done to you tonight.

his hands moved slowly—massaging up and down your sides with deliberate care. the pads of his thumbs found your hips, working small circles into them before he kissed your temple.

“you okay?” he murmured into your hair.

you hummed in response, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “mhm. just… warm.”

“that’s good,” he said, brushing a damp lock of hair behind your ear. “you were amazing tonight.”

you flushed even deeper beneath the water. it felt silly to be shy after everything, but the way he was speaking to you—gentle, reverent—it made your chest feel tight.

his hands dipped lower, fingers grazing the tops of your thighs beneath the water. the movement was slow. soothing.

until he dragged one hand inward.

you tensed.

"shoyo…" your voice came out barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion and lingering arousal.

“shh,” he breathed, voice husky and soft. “not trying to start anything. just want to help you relax.”

but his fingers pressed into your clit anyway—tentative at first, circling lightly, letting the warmth of the water soothe the sting of your overstimulated nerves.

you whimpered, body twitching in the tub. his other hand came up, cupping your breast, and your head fell back harder against him as your breath hitched.

“you’re still so sensitive,” he said with a soft smile, fingers teasing around your nipple. “look at you, baby. still wet for me. even now.”

you squirmed in his lap, thighs clenching around his hand beneath the surface. your legs were still weak, and the water only made it harder to fight the way your body responded to him.

“shoyo… it’s too much,” you whispered, even as your hips began to roll slowly into his fingers.

“you can take it,” he murmured, kissing down the side of your face. “just a little more. just want to see you let go again.”

his fingers moved with practiced rhythm—circling your clit in just the way he knew you liked. your body arched, pressing back into his chest, your hands gripping his thighs as the pleasure rose again, relentless and sweet.

you couldn’t stop the moans that left your lips. not even when you tried.

“there you go,” he whispered against your ear. “just like that. my pretty girl. let go.”

and you did.

you didn’t even know how many times you’d come at this point. your mind was hazy, body weightless, every nerve ending frayed from the pleasure he kept coaxing out of you. the latest orgasm—whatever number it was—hit you like a soft crash of waves, blooming low in your stomach and rippling out in molten, aching pulses.

your breath caught. then broke. and all you could do was slump back into him, limbs boneless, heart pounding against your chest like it was trying to remember how to beat.

“that’s it, baby,” he whispered, holding you tighter. “that’s my girl.”

he didn’t move. just stayed there with you in the water, arms anchored around your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily behind your back. he pressed a kiss to your temple. then one to your jaw. and another—longer, slower—to the crown of your head.

his hands never left your body. they kept tracing lazy circles over your hips, up your ribs, as if to calm every aftershock still wracking through you.

after a while, the water began to cool, and hinata gently shifted behind you. “come on,” he whispered against your damp skin, arms slipping beneath your knees and back, “let’s get you warm and dry.”

you didn’t protest—couldn’t, really—your body limp in his hold as he lifted you effortlessly from the bath. he moved carefully, tender in every step, as though you were something precious. the towel he wrapped you in was plush and warm, and his hands were patient, drying every inch of your skin with a care that made your chest ache.

he dried himself quickly after, hair tousled and damp, torso still glistening under the soft bathroom lights. he caught your gaze in the mirror and smirked, cocking a brow.

“wanna wear one of my shirts?” he asked, voice a little rough, a little teasing.

you leaned into him from behind, pressing your lips to the slope of his back, then murmured, “no. just wanna sleep naked with you.”

his laugh was quiet but smug. “oh? bold of you, babe. you do know i have very little self-control around you, right?”

you rolled your eyes with a sleepy smile. “you’ve already wrecked me tonight. i think i’m safe.”

“we’ll see,” he murmured playfully.

by the time you both made it to bed, the moonlight spilling in through the curtains, you’d already forgotten how exhaustion felt. the sheets were cool, the air soft, and hinata’s skin warm against yours as he slid in behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.

your breasts pressed to his chest, bare and warm, but it wasn’t sexual—not this time. just grounding. comforting.

he rested his chin on top of your head, one hand drawing absentminded shapes along the small of your back. stars, maybe. a volleyball. a heart. he didn’t say anything about it, but you could feel the smile tugging at his lips every time your breath hitched from the ticklish trails.

you let out a low hum. “you didn’t answer me.”

“hmm?” his voice was drowsy now, heavy with contentment.

“did you like your present?” you whispered, fingers grazing his ribs. “me. flying here. surprising you.”

his reply was immediate—murmured into your hair with a reverence that made your stomach flutter. “you’re the best gift i’ve ever gotten.”

your throat tightened.

he kissed your temple and added with a soft chuckle, “though, the red lingerie and frosting on your tits did bump you up to god-tier.”

you laughed, smacking his side lightly, but you could hear the affection laced between the tease. and you knew, without him having to say it again—

he loved you. wholly. hungrily. reverently.

and as you drifted off, tangled in his arms with your bare skin pressed to his beneath the hush of moonlight, you knew this would be a birthday he’d never forget—not because of the cake, or the surprises, or even the lingerie.

but because you were there.

his favorite person, his greatest gift.

finally home.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Underneath the Moonlight

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Sex on the beach with Simon

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) nipple play, body insecurity

This is once again in collaboration with @the-witty-pen-name

The sun beats down on the sand as you sit on your towel where you sit next to Simon who’s reading the book you recommended to him. You lay your head on his shoulder and skim the pages as his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He turns and presses a kiss to your forehead before turning back to the book.

This vacation for the two of you was long overdue. After weeks of planning, the two of you are finally relaxed. It took some convincing to get Simon to agree to take some time off, but after showing him the numerous new bikinis you’d added to your cart, he was quick to submit the request for the vacation. He surprised you with round trip plane tickets and a room booked at an all inclusive resort as soon as he got it approved.

Simon would have never considered himself a beach person, but he found himself enjoying things he never did before now that he’s found you. He hated time off, leaving him too much time to be left with his racing thoughts. Now, he’s counting down the seconds when he’s away until he can return home to do nothing with you. You ground him in ways you’ll never fully know. The old him would complain about the heat and the sand and the crowds, but with you? None of those things even cross his mind anymore.

“What do you think so far?” You ask, turning your head and studying his face as he reads. He looks so good like this- sun-kissed and worry free, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as his blue eyes scan the words on the pages.

“I like it about the same as when you asked me three pages ago,” he smiles, amused by how giddy you seem to be as he reads. “It’s great- stop spoiling it when I’m getting to a good part.” He chuckles as you scoff, gasping in offense.

“I am not!” You say, crossing your arms across your chest.

“You keep staring at me when something is about to happen,” he points out and you feel your face flush when you realize he’s right.

“Sorry,” you mumble with a shy smile. You lay back down, closing your eyes as you try to tan and a comfortable silence falls between the two of you again.

You don’t want tan lines so you untie the strings of your top, keeping yourself covered as you lay on your back. You smile to yourself, feeling Simon’s eyes on you having pulled his attention away from the book. You feel his hand gently rubbing your back, tracing shapes mindlessly on your soft skin as he returns back to reading.

The sun feels so good on your skin, and you can just feel all the tension in your body practically melt into the sand underneath your towel.

“Si?” You ask, turning your head towards him.

“Hmm?” He replies, pulling his attention from the book in his lap to you. He tucks your hair that’s fallen out of place behind your ear.

“Could you help get my back? I think I need to reapply.”

He drops the book so quickly that it makes you giggle.

“You didn’t save your page,” you point out and he waves it off as he grabs the bottle of sunscreen from your bag.

“I’ll find it,” he muses, too preoccupied with you to care in the least as pours some lotion into his palm. “My girl needs me.”

Simon pulls the sunscreen bottle out of your bag and squirts some into his hand before rubbing it into your back until the white turns clear. He’s always so gentle with it, almost like he’s afraid that he’s going to hurt you.

Once he’s done, he presses a kiss to each shoulder then goes back to his book, so invested in the story that he’s hunched over, his face only inches from the page. This is so unlike anything else he’s read, but he’s really enjoying it.

What he’s not expecting, though, is the smut scene. He’s heard of it but wasn’t expecting to be seeing it in a book you recommended to him. He knows that maybe he shouldn’t be reading this in public, but he doesn’t care. He has to know what happens and he wonders what if it will maybe give him some pointers.

As the sun goes down and the heat dissipates, the two of you stay there as everyone packs up to go home. Pretty soon, you’re the only ones on the beach and Simon is really looking forward to taking advantage of that.

His lips press against your cheek again and again as he pulls you into his lap. You’re both giggling as he lies down on the towel, his hands tangling in your hair as you kiss his lips. It gets progressively more heated, all teeth and tongues as his slides into your mouth.

“I need you,” he says against your lips and when you feel his cock hardening against you. You want to say yes, to give into him when he’s so needy like this, but you can’t. He’s seen you naked more times than either of you can count so you don’t know why you feel so insecure tonight.

Your heart pounds in your chest and you have no idea why the thought of taking off your swimsuit is making you feel sick. Your breathing is getting heavy and you turn away when he reaches up to wipe away the tear that has fallen down your cheek.

You wipe it away with the back of your hand then stand to your feet before packing up your stuff. You feel like such a jerk but you just can’t do this right now. Not here. You're hot and sweaty and the sunscreen is making you feel like you need a shower.

You try to blink your tears away, avoiding his gaze but feel him hovering over you. He has no idea what’s going on and even though he knows you like the back of his hand, he can’t figure this one out. It’s just a giant question mark and it’s driving him crazy.

He’s mad at himself, convinced that he pressured you into something that you weren’t ready for. And now he’s going to spend the rest of the night trying to make it up to you.

“Darling, what’s going on?” He asks, his hand on your shoulder and you shake it off, so overwhelmed, so overstimulated by everything. You just want to go back to the hotel and take a shower and go to sleep.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, moving to pick up your towel but Simon stops you. Your eyes snap up to his and you hate the way he’s looking at you, like you’re this fragile thing that he needs to fix. “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

“Did I do something?” You turn away but still feel his gaze burning into you. Now you feel like a dick. He’s being so sweet and you don’t know why you’re shutting him out. He cares for you, would never hurt you and now you’re hurting him. All because you’re feeling bad about yourself.

That’s why you don’t want to sleep with him right now. You’re not feeling like yourself in your body, like when you look in the mirror, you don’t look the same. You’ve put on weight since you started dating Simon and now it’s starting to show. You don’t know why you’re so embarrassed. Body changes are normal and you know you shouldn’t be so insecure about it, that Simon would worship the fuck out of you, but now you don’t want him to see you. Not when you look like this.

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m just tired, okay?” Simon knows he should let it go but he can’t. He needs to get to the bottom of whatever is going on so he can fix it. He hates that you feel like this. He just wants to see his girl smile again.

“Baby please,” he says, dropping to the sand in front of you. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. Just-please.” He’s begging now, his hands grabbing hold of your waist as he presses his forehead against your stomach. You want to push him away but you feel like you need to let him have this.

He’s so desperate to make things right and you know you need to tell him that he’s not the problem. But you love seeing him like this-on his knees, pleading like he does best.

“Please,” he whispers, pressing kisses to your stomach before looking up at you. “Please let me make you feel good, darling.” You feel like you’re about to drop to your knees, his words making you feel like you could collapse. He always knows exactly what to say to make you dizzy.

Tears well up in your eyes again as you run your hands through his hair. You want to, you want to so badly, but there’s still the roadblock in your way. The insecurity is full force as you think about how disgusted you felt looking in the mirror. That’s the whole reason why you’ve been wearing your cover up all day except for when you were tanning.

“I can’t,” you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper as you choke back your sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Simon pulls away and looks up at you, his own eyes turning glassy as he sees that you’re crying. He feels his heart break into a million tiny pieces as he stands to his feet, seeing that you’re sobbing now. He says nothing and pulls you into his arms, his hands running up and down your back as a way to comfort you.

“I-I don’t want you to see me. To see my body.”

“What?” Now he’s genuinely confused, having no idea what you could possibly mean by that.

“I’ve put on weight Simon. Why do you think I’ve been wearing big t-shirts?” He thought it was just a style choice, not that you were hiding your body. And now his heart is somehow breaking even more at this revelation.

“So what if you’ve put on weight?” He asks, his hands moving up to cradle your face so you’ll look him in the eyes. “Do you really think I care about that?”

“No, but I do. I look…different.”

“So what? It’s just more to love, right? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I do want you to know that I love you no matter what you look like. You’re it for me, darling. And there will never be anyone else who is perfect enough.”

You’re both crying now, holding onto each other tightly. You grab onto his shirt, pulling him into a kiss and it’s like all of your worries melt away. His hands have a firm hold on your hips and you don’t even care when they slide up your top, resting on your bare skin.

You suddenly need him, desperate to have him take you right here on your towel. You feel like you’re finally ready now that you’ve told him the truth. It didn’t completely fix the problem, but you at least feel comfortable enough to show him your naked body.

You both sink to the towel on your knees and you push him back so he’s lying down before you straddle his waist. You’ve got that look in your eye that tells him that you’re the boss tonight and he’s more than okay with that.

Your shirt comes off and so does his, both of them landing in a pile on top of the towel. You lean forward and grab hold of his hands, leading them to your back. His hands untie your bikini top which falls onto his stomach. Simon picks it up and tosses it into the pile as you lean up, letting him take in your naked torso.

“Darling,” he gasps, his hands moving down your back, fingers giving it a featherlight touch as they dance across it. “You’re beautiful.”

“Really?” You ask. “Do you still want to show me how much?”

“Fuck yes,” he breathes and you lean down, pressing your lips to his again as his hands slide around to your chest, his thumbs massaging your nipples. You moan into his mouth and he’s now hard beyond belief against you. You start to grind against him and it’s turn to moan now, untying both sides of your bottoms and you pull them out from underneath you. You then pull down his swim trunks, still grinding against him as he continues to play with your nipples.

He finishes the job and barely has any time to register what’s happening before you top him. He looks up at you as you guide his hands to your hips, taking in the view of you riding him while the moon is behind you. It’s shining down on you, giving you this beautiful glow and god, he doesn’t think you’ve been more beautiful than you are now.

Your hands reach up and play with your nipples, moaning loudly as you do so. He needs something to remember this moment, watching this beautiful woman bouncing on his cock as she pleasures herself. And she’s all his. What did he do to deserve this?

He reaches for his phone to snap a quick picture and you catch him, moaning even louder as he takes the photo. Yeah, he’s definitely saving this one for when he needs relief when you’re not around to give it to him.

“So fucking hot, darling,” he rasps as his phone is tossed to the side, He grabs hold of your waist again and begins to buck his hips against yours, pumping harder and harder as your bounces get more progressive.

Your hands leave your chest and move to his shoulders, moving even faster. This is the prettiest you’ve felt in so long and now you feel so silly for having denied him for so long. After this, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to leave the hotel room for the rest of the vacation. You can imagine being tangled up in the sheets for hours on end, only taking breaks for meals. And you know that Simon would be more than happy to agree to that idea.

“You’re the hot one,” you reply. “Walking around here in those tight shorts. You’ve been driving me crazy all day.”

“I knew you’d like them,” he smirks smugly. “You’re such a little whore, aren’t you?” He asks, picking up the pace to match yours.

“If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. You’re the one reading smut on the beach.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know it had smut until I was halfway into it. How was I supposed to know that a book with a cartoon cover contained such filth?”

“Did you like it, though?”

“I did,” he replies with a nod. “Gave me some pointers.” With that, he flips you over so you’re on the bottom. He hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a brief kiss before he kisses his way down your torso before pulling your nipple into your mouth. He licks and sucks on it before biting down, making you moan louder than he thinks you ever have before. You clench around him and he pounds into you again over and over until you’re coming, his name falling from your lips in a loud scream.

He keeps going, seeing how many times he can get you there, but he’s orgasming before that, neither of you caring that he’s unloading inside you before he collapses on top of you. Once you both come down, Simon gathers your clothes, wrapping yourselves up in your towels before heading to the shower where you clean up. He then loans you his shirt to cover up while he puts his trunks back on before leading you back to your room where you go for round two.

[smutoperator]

Under Her Skirt

Choi Yewon (Arin) x Male Reader

Tags: A2M, acrobatic 69, anal, ass eating, ass-to-pussy, balcony sex, carry fucking, cheeky, choking, cute but slutty, daddy kink, dirty talk, (lots of) facefucking, face slapping, facial, miniskirt, objectification, rough sex, schoolgirl, socks, spanking, specs, spitting, squirting

Word count: 5143

For the last couple years, you and Arin seemed frozen in time. Ever since Oh My Girl renewed their contracts and moved towards sporadic activities, you have had very few chances to see Arin in person. All your opportunities would come from festivals where they would always play the same songs, and all you could do was watch Arin jiggling her cheeks on stage from afar.

After you saw Arin perform in a schoolgirl outfit, wearing specs and looking cuter than ever, but also sexier than ever, you knew this drought had to end. You had to get Arin at all costs. It had become a matter of life or death for you. As you managed to dribble their managers and snuck into backstage, you found the beautiful, cute Arin right there, her heartwarming smile in full display when she saw you.

"It's been a while since we last met," Arin said. "I still remember when you used to warm me up backstage before Music Bank," she continued. "Can we do this again, even if just for today?" you asked. "Sure, meet me at home; I'll be waiting for you," she said.

Arin sent you a few pictures of her schoolgirl outfit before she even published them on Instagram. Truth be told, she missed you too and had been craving it for a long time; that backstage smile wasn't for nothing at all.

Arin greeted you with her stage outfit still on. Her glow-up since you two last met was quite amazing. The more you looked at her, the more your lust for her grew. Flashbacks of her riding you with her cheeky butt already popped into your mind, of you carrying her and spanking her ass while going nonstop inside her holes. It was long overdue to bring it back.

It turns out Arin wanted it just as much as you did. As you sat on the chair around her house's table, she took a different route, sitting on top of the table itself with her round cheeks and advancing towards you, giving you sexy kisses where you could feel how much she missed you.

"You want this, baby?" Arin asked you. You didn't reply, but the expressions on your face already made your answer clear to her. And your next move, even more so, as you jumped from the chair and grabbed Arin by her neck, immediately answering back her torrid kisses. You took your coat off as Arin's sexy mouth quickly heated you up. "You're still the same whore from the last time we met," you told her, giving her face a little slap. "But I'm a lot more experienced now," Arin pushed back.

"Then let's cheek it; I mean, check it," you said as you reached under her skirt. God, you really missed those cheeks. The moment you grabbed them, you already wanted to explode. Memories of you clapping it and spanking it hard flashed into your eyes. You placed Arin's body on top of the table and already took her panties off. Her lifted skirt stays on, just like her socks and specs. You are very much enamored by this look on Arin, like you never were before, and ready to show it to her.

You duck your head under Arin's skirt and start eating her pretty pussy. That cute schoolgirl facade is only present in her outfit. Everywhere else, Arin is just the moaning slut you always knew her for, as she closes her wonderful thighs around your head the more you stimulate her sweaty pussy. Soon, your fingers replace your hands as you kiss Arin and let her taste her hole while your hands make her even wetter. Arin just falls back onto the table and enjoys the finger-fucking session.

"Yes, please, please," Arin begs right before you kiss her. But you've got different plans. Carrying this petite doll was always one of your favorite things, and you do it again as Arin clings to your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"Turn around," you say as you drop Arin to the floor after a little while. As you give her skirt a little lift, the thing she's most known for is already on full display. You waste no time ducking between her fat cheeks, circling your tongue around both her holes. But this time, her asshole gets the most attention, as you already tongue it deep and soon remind yourself how much better it tastes when sweaty. Arin just moans and spreads her legs.

Arin starts jiggling her ass as you eat her out and grabs your head to dunk it deeper between her cheeks. Her reaction makes you go even crazier, as you suddenly get up and give Arin an order: "Let's get this off," you tell her, as she tries to take her top and tie off while you choke her and finger her pussy at the same time.

"Ohhhh, I missed that touch so much," Arin says. "Of course you did; you're an insatiable whore, always jiggling those cheeks on stage," you punch back, yanking her top off. "It looks like you enjoyed that jiggling, didn't you?" Arin said. "Look at how hard you are; I've been noticing it the moment you entered my house," Arin replied, touching your pants right where your erection lied.

"Then get on your knees and worship it, bitch," you tell her, unbuttoning your pants. Arin quickly wraps her hands around it and licks your shaft from top to bottom multiple times before she sloppily sucks it. "Open that mouth, bitch," you tell her as you grab her hair and start fucking her beautiful face, your balls slapping nonstop against her chin. As you stop with your cock impaling her throat, Arin moves it even further, testing herself and getting ready to gag hard on that shaft.

"Spit on my mouth, please," Arin says, opening it even further as soon as she gags on your meat. You give her what she wants and kiss her once again shortly after, quickly moving to keep the facefucking going. You had forgotten how messy she gets when her pretty face gets pounded, going from a cute, classy maknae straight into a slutty cocksleeve.

"You like to fuck that cute little face, don't you, baby?" Arin asks as she goes back to blowing that pipe off. "But you like it better when I turn into this cock-sucking slut, right?" she says as she finishes her aggressive blowjob, taking all your shaft in, including giving a lot of love to your balls.

"You're going to detention today, you slutty schoolgirl," you poke at her, aggressively taking Arin's bra off and exposing her perky tits. More kissing ensues while you rub Arin's cute boobs before slapping them. "Tell me who's daddy's whore?" you ask her. "I am!" Arin laughs.

"Get in there," you say as Arin places her small head between your legs. You feel really dominant watching her face get fucked in that position, giving you the perfect view of your manhood bulging under her throat while your balls hit the glasses in her specs.

"AHHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH." Arin screams from the top of her lungs once you pull out of her mouth. "Shut up, bitch," you tell her, covering her mouth with your hands as soon as she screams. Instead, Arin licks your fingers nonstop. "My pussy tastes really good," she says once she finishes it.

You take your shoes off, making a stomping noise on the woody floor of Arin's house. Clearly, she hasn't learned the lesson. Now you fuck her face with your fingers, going deep into her pussy. "How does that taste, cunt?" Arin tries to say some words, but your cock mutes them. "Louder, I can't hear it," you tell her.

Arin coughs all over your cock, but little does she know you're about to get even spicier. You grab her by the waist and flip her upside down. "Don't let those specs fall down," you say to her. "YESSSS!" Arin gets excited and licks your cock as you grab her lower body and eat her pussy while she's upside down. Down low, she maniacally licks your shaft.

"Who told you to do this?" you ask her, spanking her ass and thrusting your prick right back into her face. Arin gets punished hard as her cheeks slowly turn into your favorite color: red. Upside down, a cock deep in her throat, a tongue deep in her cunt—it's incredible that Arin still manages to keep those specs on and still finds strength to bob her head on your dick as soon as you stop fucking her face, which leads to yet another punishment spank from you.

You flip Arin back and kiss her. "Yes, baby, it looks like you enjoyed that 69, didn't you?" you rhetorically ask. "But we are just starting," you say as you grab her neck once again. "Bend over," you order right after, placing your hands in her cheeks as you go back to rubbing her cunt.

"Time to get punished, bitch," you tell Arin, sliding your cock in her pussy. "Oh fuck," Arin gets caught by surprise with a monster suddenly inside her cunt, but instinctively bends over from long years of experience. "YES, YES, YES, FUCK IT!" Arin yells as you are already clapping her massive cheeks, giving her no room to breathe and attacking hard from the start. "Please destroy my pussy, AHHHHH," she begs as you pick up the pace.

"Fuck me just like that, hit me deeper," Arin keeps demanding as you pump her pussy nonstop, spreading her cheeks and moaning while you grab her arms behind her back. You push her body towards yours and give her a crazy pounding in standing doggy, treating her pussy like a fleshlight and making her cheeks let out loud noises each time you thrust deep inside her.

Arin has to cling back onto the table not to get obliterated, as you stop a bit to admire her meaty cheeks. "Get down," you tell her, taking advantage of a submissive Arin is bending over to eat her desirable butthole as she jiggles her ass and lets her cheeks hit your face. You put a finger up her asshole, but it's so warm you can't resist but to shove your whole cock inside it shortly after.

"Use my asshole; I know that's what you want the mo... AHHHH," Arin says. "Don't worry, bitch, I'll use it like my personal toy," you tell her, fucking her ass and spanking her cheeks nonstop. "Please, shove that cock deep in my ass," Arin continues to say. You love how her facial expressions change with each pumping and spanking you give her. "Oh my God, you fuck me so hard," Arin says. Even for a slut like her, it's hard to take such a big cock at such a fast speed in her butthole.

"USE ME. USE ME. USE ME. DESTROY MY TINY LITTLE ASSHOLE, FUCK!" Arin keeps screaming. The more she talks, the harder you fuck her ass, and the louder her cheeks clap. Not even five minutes in, but she can barely stand up, getting fucked like an animal as you go raw on her.

"I love how you fuck me," Arin says as soon as you finish ramming her. You slap her face as soon as you hear those words, which she loves. "Are you going to fuck me like your dirty little bitch?" Arin asks, clearly wanting more. You let your actions do the talking, grabbing her and leading Arin towards the balcony, pinning her against the glass door. Arin can barely hold onto the glass as you manhandle her ass, her moaning mouth, and her sliding hands, leaving an imprint on the glass on this foggy, cold day. 

"OH. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK," she screams, her little tits now hitting the glass nonstop as she has no control over her body, getting plowed like a slutty fuckdoll that she is. Arin gets grabbed from behind, and your primal urge to destroy her only grows as her whole body gets suffocated between that glass and your dominating self, forcing her to cling as hard as possible to any support, holding the door with all her might just to survive your rough anal rampage.

"Lick that glass, you dirty whore," you say, spitting on it right after you stop pounding Arin, who follows. "I want you to fuck me so bad," she says once she finishes. "What did you say?" you ask her, grabbing Arin back inside the room. Arin laughs. "Then shut up and show me," you say, lifting her leg against the door. "Ready to put it back in?" she demands, giving you a lustful stare. "Give me that ass," you say; indeed, you can't say no to it.

You fuck and spank Arin's ass like crazy. "Keep going, daddy," she says, masturbating herself at each thrust and even using different languages: "Follame el culo," she demands, in Spanish, as you grab her cheeks, but a different one in this case, those in her cute slutty face. Arin gets her face slapped multiple times, but she also retaliates and spanks yours as well, showing she's truly an untamed slut. All that while getting fucked hard in the ass.

"Make me fucking take it," Arin says as your anal addiction to her only grows. "I want you to treat me like the biggest whore you've ever met," she continues. You switch to a standing doggy once again; never stop fucking her butt. "Sí papi, así, así, así," she says once again in Spanish. "Fuck me harder, fuck me harder," she then says.

You indeed fuck Arin harder, making her hold against the door not to get destroyed. Her entire body jiggles, even her little tits. "Make me fucking take it, daddy," she continues. And you make her, gabbing Arin from behind. "GOD, I'M GONNA CUM," she says right after. As you just seem to have endless energy and never stop, her butt keeps getting spanked, her body used like a fleshlight. Her neck choked in such a way that it clenched her entire throat. If Arin really wants to be treated like a sex object, you sure won't object.

Arin gets on her knees to suck your cock. Despite the rampage she just endured, she seems just fine and ready for more, savoring her asshole like a dinner meal and making loud noises with her mouth as she gets very sloppy. Soon you're treating her face just like her asshole, fucking it hard as she nods with your cock deep in her throat, ready to choke on it. You spit on her face as soon as you finish it. "Give it back," she asks for more as you fuck her face with her still jerking your cock off.

"Come in." You grab Arin's hair as she crawls inside on all fours like a dirty puppy. You slam her body into the table and start eating her pussy. "Yes, daddy, make me fucking cum, ahhh," Arin moans as she moves her hips to meet your mouth inside her cunt. Soon, your mouth is replaced by that huge cock, sensing that Arin wants it back inside, begging and moaning as you pump her pussy in a hot missionary position before shoving your whole hand inside her mouth to shut her up.

Arin bites your hand as she chokes all over it, trying to let her moan out as you put the heat in her pussy. As you free Arin's mouth, you give her no time to collect herself, switching straight back to her asshole. The spanking continued, as this time you targeted her milky thighs. "Yes, that's what I want; spank me, spank me," Arin said as you kept hitting her.

You make things even harder for Arin as you shove your hand inside her pussy to add to the pumps you were already giving her asshole. She's on the edge of the table, having to be careful not to fall down. "FUCK. MAKE. ME. CUM," she says, each word becoming more and more of a struggle to come out of her mouth. "Fuck, I'm cumming," she says right after, her nipples fully erected and her body overwhelmed by the anal and vaginal stimulation you give her simultaneously.

Hearing those words makes you increase your speed a lot more, pounding Arin's ass until she squirts and cums all over your hands. You pull out and set your sights on fingering her wet cunt as Arin slides her legs out of the table. "Slap my fucking cunt, yesss," she begs as juices come out of it, and she wants the slapping session to extend into her entire body.

Arin romantically kisses you as she finishes her orgasm. You then turn her body around and place her head, falling out of the table, to fuck her face. "Give me all that cock," she begs as you plow her throat balls deep, and she savors your shaft, letting out loud moans that you can't hear an audible word of. Arin coughs deeper on your cock once you stop your pounding motion, engulfing it with ease. You two spend a couple minutes on this routine, with Arin lasting longer each time you shove your prick deep in her throat, coating your dick full of her spit and creating strings of saliva coming out of your throbbing shaft.

"Fuck that face up," Arin demands as you treat her mouth like a human onahole, reaching under her needy pussy to finger it while your pole is buried deep in her throat. "Yes, gag on that dick, you fucking whore," you tell her. "Fuck yeah!" she answers back.

With Arin still recovering, you grab her body and carry her. She answers immediately by bouncing on your cock while up in the air, showing why it's one of her favorite positions. Her moans are music to your ears as Arin impales herself on your big dick, and you enjoy how easy it is to spank her cheeks. Soon, Arin is kissing you while getting pounded and spanked mid-air.

But you want to pump her harder, dropping to the floor and without pulling out, hammering her pussy upwards as Arin has to hold herself to the edge of the table, getting pounded nonstop down low in her cunt. Your balls slapped onto her cheeks multiple times, turning both of you on even further. "Make those fucking cheeks clap," Arin orders as the pounding continues, only stopping for a couple seconds for you to switch holes and do the same thing but to her already sore ass.

You let Arin twerk on your dick as she made it disappear under her big cheeky butt. You love how she energetically jumps on that dick like an insatiable slut, spanking her cheeks and telling her to go fast, which Arin follows to the degree that your cock slips out of her butthole. Rather than complaining, you just take advantage of it to slide it back in her cunt and be the alpha man, obliterating it once more as your balls go all the way up into hitting her anal entrance with the speed you pump Arin's pussy.

"Let me fucking ride it; I need your fucking cock right now," Arin says as you pause a bit, letting her take control of the ride and impale herself all the way into her cervix. You kiss her and give her already red cheeks a little tap to praise her before she stops, and you two have a clingy and romantic moment filled with kisses, but always with your cock deep inside her.

You push Arin to the top of the table, lying on it while doing so, letting her enjoy a ride while standing tall. "There you go," you say as Arin spreads her legs and settles them on the table, giving long bounces on your dick, going all the way up your tip and then pushing all the way down your balls. "You want to feel this warm, needy pussy?" she asks. "Yes, just like that," you reply. Arin's moans get sexier as she shows her love for riding big dicks. "All the way deep in my pussy," she says while her bounce continues, and you get a perfect view of her hole getting stretched out every time she takes your cock in and out of it.

Arin's moans get louder as she spreads her cheeks. "Look at me taking all this fucking cock all the way in," she brags. "Time for you to use that fucking pussy again," she commands, as you push up it and Arin gets her sex manhandled while mid-air, the loud noise of her clapping cheeks filling the room once more. "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK," is all she can say, defenseless as your cock stabs her cunt like nothing, making her skirt wave at each thrust.

"FUCK. FUCK, I WANT ALL OF IT," Arin screams, still mid-air. "Nonstop, nonstop, nonstop, nonstop, nonstop," she starts singing one of her group's hits while giving you an order at the same time. "YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. FUCK. I'M CUMMING." Arin gets destroyed as you show no mercy for her cunt; the more her cheeks clap, the harder you pound her. As soon as you run out of stamina, Arin grinds her pussy on your cock sideways, coating it with her juices, and kisses you to show gratitude for fucking her like a whore.

Arin flips to the opposite side, diving to taste your cock full of her juices from both holes. You get up a bit to watch her marvelous mouth work all the way down your shaft as Arin deepthroats it in full force and makes even louder noises as she keeps coughing on that dick. More deepthroating ensues as you duck her head into your crotch until she gags.

"Is that what you want? To fuck me hard like a dirty little slut?" Arin asks as you choke her, and she fingers herself. "Put it back in my ass, please," she says, lying on the edge of the table as you penetrate her already gaped butthole. "Give me more; destroy my tiny little asshole," she continues as she moans, and you spank her little. "Use that fucking asshole, yeah," she keeps saying. "Choke me," Arin demands as you oblige, while placing your thumb in her mouth.

"Back and forth, switch between my holes," Arin keeps demanding as you take turns between her anus and cunt and tease her before settling for another hard ass-fucking that she loves. "Yes, please, stretch my ass like that. I love it. I love it in my fucking ass. Stuff me up, stuff me up," she tells you. The anal pounding continues, but you surprise her with another switch to her pussy, enjoying the whole back and forth hole-stretching, but truth be told, Arin has a favorite one.

"Please put it back in my fucking ass; I want you to use it," she begs. You go back into her asshole just as she wants, turning her cheeks even redder. "My ass is so fucking wet for you," she keeps talking dirty and praising the wonder of her tiny little stretched anus. 

You clap Arin's cheeks against the table as you increase the speed of your anal fucking. "KEEP FUCKING ME, PLEASE!" Arin screams as her asshole gets destroyed. "Harder, harder, yesss!" She pushes you to the edge, demanding the best effort you can bring to fuck that ass, yelling nonstop even as you choke her. Your thobbing cock tingles, and you almost cum at the spot as her clenching butthole smashes it, but you respond, fucking her even harder as she tells you she's ready to cum again.

"FUCK YEAH. USING MY FUCKING HOLE!" Arin gets even louder as she squirts after a long and rough round of anal. You aid her into releasing those juices as you massage her clit, letting a geyser come out of her cunt as Arin gets into a fetal position for you to slap her cheeks once again, her body sliding over the slippery table as you dive to eat both her holes out and then spit on her slutty face.

"Keep going down my fucking clit, daddy," Arin says as you continue to eat her pussy, her skirt fully lifted as you dive under it. More passionate kisses ensue between both of you as Arin puts her long legs over her head, letting you take her in a mating press up her asshole.

"Drop that fucking cock deep inside me; drop it in my ass," Arin tells you as you push it back in her anus. "All the way deep in my fucking asshole, please," she continues, sticking her tongue out. "Shut up, little cunt." You have enough of her slutty antics and shove your fist down her throat, fully topping Arin as she lies over the table.

You go slow and deep, taking a more passionate approach this time. "Keep going, right in my fucking ass," she says as soon as you free her mouth to speak. However, that makes you flip a switch as you start giving her a rough mating press deep in her butt, making her cheeks clap once again. Arin screams as her swollen butthole keeps taking pounding after pounding.

You move sideways, anally pounding Arin in spooning this time, your balls hitting her cunt while she fingers her clit. "Oh God, fuck," she moans as you grab her right thigh and stretch her asshole. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," she repeats. "I told you to shut up," you say, placing your left hand over her mouth.

Arin is so overwhelmed she starts mixing up languages: "Me encanta the way you fuck my culo, papí," she says right after you go back to choking her. Your balls hit perfectly into her cheeks, making her moan softly. "Ram that fucking ass," she begs, but you have different plans, going back to her pussy as soon as she says those words.

Arin gets softer. "You treat me so well, Daddy," she says as you stretch her pussy out, her eyes flowing with tears of joy. "I love how you use both my fucking holes, Daddy," she continues. You two grow more passionate as you kiss Arin's mouth and neck while never stopping fucking her tight sex. "Keep going, daddy; put that cock deep in my fucking holes," Arin says.

"Slap my fucking titties," Arin demands, wanting to get used like a toy. You follow, hitting her boobs right at her throbbing nipples. Arin laughs as you duck under to suck her tits while still pounding her cunt nonstop, before surprising her and putting her back under a mating press that makes her body slide onde again.

"Fuck, it's so deep inside me," Arin moans as you keep attacking her pussy while up in the air, submitting her to a deep pounding that makes her cheeks jiggle on top of the table as your hips clash hard against them. "AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHH! FUCKKKKK! FUCKKKKK! FUCKKKKK!" Arin yells as her pussy clenches all over your cock. You could breed her at the spot, but you hold that urge, pulling her out so Arin can taste her wet juices.

"Fuck my little dirty mouth," Arin begs as your cock approaches her face, pounding her as if you had never left her pussy. "Ahhh, yes, use my face like that," Arin says as you finish, getting number after over 30 minutes of animalesque pounding. And you keep using her face, placing it on the edge of the table, and plowing her throat while lifting her skirt to get the perfect view of her amazing ass. 

At this point, Arin just wants to be a fleshlight. "AHHHH YESSS!" she gleefully screams once you shove your balls deep in her mouth. You push her to the other side of the table, taking a peek under her skirt to finger her pussy while fucking her face, amazed that her specs still haven't fallen off even with her head upside down. Arin bobs her head to meet your thursts as you slow down a bit to massage her cunt. "Holy fuck," you say as she shakes her head all over that meat despite facing down the floor, letting her face fuck your cock instead of fucking her face yourself.

"I want to sit on that cock, daddy," Arin demands. You pick one of the chairs around the table and sit on it, letting Arin slide your cock in her sore asshole, this time in reverse cowgirl, with one of her legs in the chair and another on the floor, giving you an amazing ride. "Daddy still likes to fuck me in the ass like that?" she asks.

Arin puts both legs on your thighs and gives you an amazing anal ride. The more you stretch her out, the more she wants. "Look at this cock so deep in my fucking asshole," Arin brags about her skills, fully impaling her sore anus into that big cock. "Do you like the way it feels in my ass, Daddy?" Arin asks as she keeps talking dirty. "Look how I sit on this cock all the way down in my ass," she continues.

Arin spreads her legs and lets her cheeks clap as she rides your cock, fingerging herself as she increases the pace of her ride. You grab her by the neck, and her butthole clenches even further. "I want to cum with your cock deep in my asshole," Arin says as she continues to bounce, reaching her orgasm shortly after. "Oh, I fucking love it," she says as she stops, giving you free reign to finger her clit and make it squirt nonstop as her legs close and she climaxes.

"Please cum on my face; drop that jizz all over my little, slutty face. I want to feel your warm and hot jizz in my face,  Daddy." Arin rests on the table, recovering from her final orgasm. You jerk your cock off on top of her, and soon she gets what she wants as you coat her specs full of sperm before filling the cheeks in her face with your white paint. Arin stays there, admiring your work of art in her now cum-filled face, sticking her tongue out in pleasure.

"You drained your fucking balls so well all over me," Arin says.

"Oh thanks. I have to go; it was nice fucking, I mean, meeting you again," you reply, as you notice it's already past midnight and you still haven't got back from the concert.

"It's fine," Arin says, with one final condition. "As long as you come back tomorrow to fuck my ass again,"

Damn, she's an insatiable anal queen, isn't she?

[theaceace]

An old concept that I'm still feral over, but a Dreamling fic in which the dreamling relationship is chronicled entirely by Yelp reviews of the New Inn.

Reviews are either 5* or 1* with surprisingly little in between, and the business owner replies are always a riot. They start off fairly normal, talking about the food and drink, the couple of guest rooms upstairs, the location and prices etc, but then they start to get weird.

Constantine leaves 3*, beer is shit whiskey is ok not haunted which is more than I can say for most london pubs and the response is Thanks Jo, but you're still banned

4* this place is run by my history professor and it's amazing but he asked me about my overdue essay three times so I can't give it 5* and Hob, who has had multiple students visit the pub for the sole purpose of doing this, is just like you still haven't submitted that, get off yelp and start citing your sources

There are multiple 5* reviews like would give 10* if i could, the owner chased off a neo nazi with a literal sword he pulled out from behind the bar

5* should probably give it less because a couple of times the answers to the history round on the monthly quiz night have been wrong, but otherwise it's a solid little place for a reasonably priced pint and a nice afternoon and Hob's response is just those answers were right

And then Dream comes back and the reviews start... Changing, a bit

One of the 1* reviews is just complaining about the fact that there was a bird at the bar and no one got rid of it and the reply from Hob is that's Matthew, he has a tab. Several of the 5* reviews are also about the fact that sometimes there's a bird in the bar

One of the 5* reviews is saw the most beautiful goth twink in the world, will definitely be going back and Hob nearly deletes that one. The reply instead is that's my boyfriend, unlike Matthew he never pays his tab

5* i have no idea how i got there or found the place because i swaer i was halfway across london from where google maps says it is but anyway the bartender was really great and understandig when I started crying on him, will defiantely go back if reality ever warps like that again. Response from owner: yeah sorry about the reality warping, we don't get it either

1* I only wish I could have given this establishment a glowing review – fabulous service, lovely food and a sumptuous wine I hadn't expected, but unfortunately I had to see my brother's face. Response from owner: Desire get off the internet, it doesn’t need your help

[saffusthings]

second chances

mob boss! lando norris x reader

part seven: invisible string

word count: 1.8k

warnings: implied violence? but that's it i think

six | seven | eight

Lando’s mind was sharp, his eyes scanning the scene in his peripheral vision as he moved down the city street, pretending to focus on a text. It was collection week – the time where everyone knew that Norris's boys would come around and collect on all the overdue payments from the past month. Lando himself made a special appearance this time, just for old man Binotto.

That son of a bitch never paid on time.

It would almost be amusing if it wasn’t such a fucking nuisance – like a pebble in his shoe on the 27th of every damn month.

Lando and his boys were known for a particular set of skills. The mob was a business just as much as anything else was – skills and services for a price.

So that would make Lando a commonplace business man. Lando and his crew provided a variety of services for the city’s underworld—protection, intimidation, and, above all, discretion. For those willing to pay, the Circle offered a guarantee that no one would mess with them. Whether it was keeping a business safe from rivals or sending a message to someone who needed reminding, Lando’s men got the job done. The Reaper’s Circle made sure that the people living on their turf had nothing to fear but them. The money then went into funding the city’s most lucrative ventures—high-end casinos, exclusive clubs, and the kind of entertainment that stayed behind closed doors. 

A little something for everyone.

In a world where everyone was looking over their shoulder, the Reaper’s Circle made sure its people didn’t have to. 

All in a day’s work.

This was giving him a fucking migraine.

It had started cordially enough — polite conversation, adequate small talk before delving into their familiar routine. Lando would demand his money, Mattia would act clueless, and then Lando would reacquaint him with their deal until Lando’s knuckles split.

Apparently they were still at the clueless part.

“Come on,” Binotto tutted, placing his clasped hands in his lap, eyes sharp beneath the warm lighting as if he had even some semblance of power in this situation. “We’ve known each other for how long now? What is business between friends?”

Lando gave a slow, calculated smile. “Somehow, I don’t recall us ever being friends,” he replied smoothly, hand coming up to massage his temples.

Binotto, predictably, didn’t like that.

His fingers tightened around his glass. “You are acting like you don’t need friends?”

“I’ve got enough,” Lando rolled his eyes.

Binotto leaned in, his expression darkening. “That is a polite way of telling me to fuck off?”

Lando’s patience thinned. Yes, he wanted to say. Instead, he let the silence speak for itself.

The other man exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Bad idea. A very bad idea.”

"Yeah," he drawled, a smirk on his lips as he stood up. “M’ willin’ to lose sleep over it.”

15 minutes later, Lando turned and walked out, feeling the weight of Binotto’s glare burning into his back. His knuckles ached faintly, already beginning to purple.

Once outside, he exhaled, mind already moving three steps ahead. Binotto wasn’t a real threat, but men like him had a way of becoming problems when left unchecked. And right now, Lando didn’t have the patience for problems.

The Brit counted every bill to make sure each one was accounted for before slipping the thick, worn envelope into one of the pockets inside his jacket. It was important to double check every single detail, he'd learned. He was always aware, always looking over his shoulder. It was how he’d built his empire. 

It was how he’d survived.

But as he turned a corner, his gaze flicked to a head of dark blond hair across the street—Arthur Leclerc, standing at the edge of the sidewalk, eyes flickering as he pretended to scan a storefront, his hand casually adjusting his jacket. It was subtle, almost too subtle, but Lando saw right through it.

Lando smirked to himself. The kid was ambitious, sure, but he had no idea what he was dealing with. No matter how clever he thought he was, he was still the little brother—not the one in charge. 

Arthur was probably just an unwitting pawn in this—too inexperienced to fully grasp what he was trying to do, but Lando couldn’t afford to let him get any closer.

The Leclercs. Always so eager to get involved in things that weren’t theirs.

Lando kept walking, his steps calm but purposeful, allowing Arthur to fall into rhythm behind him. He didn’t want to make this easy. He needed to see how far the kid would go.

Then, just as Lando turned a corner, he spotted another shadow, a darker head of hair this time—a tall figure, with similar gangly features lingering further down the block. 

Lorenzo Leclerc. 

He was older, more calculating, his posture a little more obvious, standing by a streetlight with a phone in his hand, trying to play the part of an innocent bystander. He was watching, waiting for Lando to slip up. Lando’s smirk faltered, and his hand instinctively brushed the gun concealed under his jacket.

Looks like his morning just got more interesting.

Lando’s pulse quickened as he realized he was being double-tailed, and this time, it wasn’t going to be as easy to shake them off. He needed to disappear.

With a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders. He was good at what he did—too good to get caught—but he wasn’t about to let himself get cornered by the Leclercs on a busy street. He needed to vanish. Fast.

His mind worked quickly. The first rule of the game: Never lead them to your next destination. His eyes scanned the street, searching for an exit.

There wasn’t time for a confrontation. Not here, not now. He needed to lose them both—quickly.

Lando ducked into the nearest alley and scanned the area, his instincts already locking onto the perfect escape route. A narrow side street led into a small café with large windows, an unassuming little place that looked as though it could blend into any part of the city. Perfect.

He could blend in, slip into the background, and wait for the Leclerc brothers to pass by. His pace quickened, making a beeline for the door. He slipped through the door, barely drawing attention as the bell above it chimed softly.

But of course, as he moved toward the counter, his eyes landed on a familiar face.

You’ve got to be fuckin’ with me.

He could already feel his irritation rising. There was no way this was happening. No fucking way.

It had to be some kind of cosmic joke.

She was smiling at him, clearly pleased to see him again, completely unaware of how fucked this situation was.

“Liam?” she asked, voice tentative.

Lando froze. Of course, she’d recognize him.

Oh fuck me.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone flat, forcing a tight smile.  She gave him an awkward smile, the kind of smile he’d seen a hundred times before—unsteady, unsure, yet oddly warm. “I didn’t expect to see you again,” she said, the words almost shy as she took a step toward him.

Lando swallowed his irritation, quickly masking it with an aloof expression. “Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it either,” he muttered under his breath.

“Twice in one week!” she mused cheerily, tucking her copy of Crime and Punishment under her arm. “I mean, what are the odds?”

I dunno, but I need 'em to be zero.

“D’you come here often? I haven’t really seen you here that much” she wondered, tilting her head. “Or are you just really, really lucky?”

Lando almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

Instead, he gave her a tight smile, just enough charm to keep her from hopefully asking anymore questions. “What can I say? Good coffee n' all tha'.”

She huffed a soft laugh. “Right, well, I can get you a coffee if you—”

“No,” Lando cut her off, his tone sharp, almost too quick. He needed to keep moving, get out of here before drawing more attention to himself.

“M'fine, really,” he said, his gaze shifting toward the door, willing himself not to look back at her.

“No, thanks,” he said curtly, his eyes already scanning the windows. He wasn’t looking for her, not really. His thoughts were elsewhere. He was thinking of the Leclercs, and how he needed to get out of here without drawing any attention.

Still, her voice broke through his thoughts. “You sure? I could, you know, bring you something.”

Lando didn’t turn to look at her. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t here to entertain her, and he sure as hell wasn’t here to play nice. This was just another complication—another irrelevant, inconvenient detail in his life.

His fingers drummed lightly against the edge of the table, the seconds dragging on in silence. He knew she was still staring at him, probably wondering what the hell was going on, but he couldn’t afford to care.

Y/N stood there for a moment, unsure, then shrugged awkwardly and returned to her side of the counter.

“Just passing through,” he blurted, some semblance of an explanation. Not that he owed her an answer, but… she was only trying to be nice. It wasn’t her fault she’d caught him on a shit day, right?

So Lando was just being polite. 

Politeness. Decency. Yeah, that sort of thing.

Y/N blinked at him, a little caught off guard by his tone. “I hadn’t expected to see you again, especially not so soon,” she said, smiling awkwardly, but there was something else in her eyes now—a curiosity. “Is everything okay?”

Lando didn’t answer right away. He could see the way her eyes darted around, looking at him as if she was trying to piece things together. He couldn’t have her asking questions, couldn’t have her getting too involved.

“M'fine,” he waved off casually. “Just… needed to get out of sight for a moment, yeah?"

“Out of sight? What, are you like… running from the cops or something?” she laughs, her tone teasing.

If only she knew.

“Nah, s'nothing,” he replied coolly, then paused, catching her eye. He studied her for a moment—how she was standing there, so out of place in the chaos of his world. It almost made him question everything. Almost.

Finally, when enough time had passed, Lando took a step toward the exit, but something about the weight of her gaze made him pause. It was the same old pitfall. He was so good at keeping people at arm’s length—he was cold when he needed to be, distant, indifferent—but for some reason, it was different when it came to her. She had a way of making him feel… odd.

“Uh, see you around,” he said, almost too quickly.

And without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out, slipping back into the crowd.

The moment he stepped back onto the street, he allowed himself a brief moment of relief. The Leclercs hadn’t followed him in—yet—but it wouldn’t be long before they realized he’d slipped away again.

The weight of the world was still pressing on him, but now it was tinged with something else—a lingering feeling that wouldn’t quite leave him.

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the thought that he had just made a mistake.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Told you not to overdo it (RenéeSlegersXReader)

AN: Here it is, the RenéeXReader fic. Hope you enjoy. Let me know If you want more of the Team moms.

Summary: you thought it was just a normal day at Arsenal but then your next Patient turned out to be your wife.

You just finished taping Lias shoulder when you got the call from one of the Assistent Coaches that someone needed your help on the Trainings Pitch. Cause they have Hurt their ankle.

You fully expected it to be a Player. But instead you were met with your wife sitting on the grass, holding her ankle.

"hi." You Said softly to the Team and then looked at your wife.

"Renée, my love. What happened?" You asked and kneeled down in front of her.

"i was warming up with the Girls and then i slipped and my ankle buckled." She told you. Sighing softly. The Girls were standing close by, watching the two of you. While you checked out your wife's ankle.

"i told you not to overdue it ,love." You kissed her head quickly before putting an ice pack on it.

"i know ,i know!" She answered and blushed a bit.

"it looks like just a sprained ankle. Now we ice it for some minutes and then i will help you up and we see how it goes. But i recommend taking it easy no matter what!" You explained. "Better safe then sorry!" You added on.

After a few minutes of icing the Injury, you wrapped her ankle up with a Bandage and then helped her up.

"it only is a little discomfort left! So guess that's good!" Renée told you. You chuckled softly.

"it is good indeed! But when you get home all you gonna do is stay off that ankle and cuddle with Lio." He was your three months old son, he was the biggest joy of the two of you. Your Mom was currently watching him.

"next time you have to bring him to practice. We Miss Out Arsenal Baby!" Emily said softly.

"agreed!" Leah answered.

"we promise we bring him with us tomorrow!" You told them. You have given birth to him and went back to work rather quickly. Taking him with you in the Physio room for most of the day.

You grabbed some crutches for your wife just in case so she could finish the practice with the Team. Going back to your office. Filling out some paperwork.

Around two hours later you and Renée were on your way home. Your Mom handed you over Lio when you got home and asked your wife what happened. She was clearly concerned. She even offered to take Lio over night If needed but you told her it was okay.

Renée was lying on the couch. Ankle resting on a pillow. You had Lio in your Arms, nursing him. Your wife was gently stroking your sons little head with one finger.

"i can't believe how perfect he is!" Renée told you.

"just like his mommy!" You stated and smiled at your wife. Your wife blushed.

"No ,he is perfect like his momma!" Your wife replied. Smiling back at you.

It was 20 minutes later when the doorbell rung and you opened it. Chuckling softly when you saw some Girls of the Team standing there with Pizza. It happened alot that the Younger Ones would just Show Up. But usually you would feed them and you would give them Life advice. You basically were Bonus parents to them. Katie, Kyra and Jenna walked inside after you held the door open for them.

"hi Renée, we brought Pizza so you didn't have to cook! Also Katie has to tell you something!" Jenna explained.

"thanks for bringing over food! That's nice. But before we eat let's talk. Is everything okay?" Renée asked. They sit down and you hand them their favorite sodas. Yes you do always have some of those at Home.

"Tell Moms, Katie!" Kyra said half jokingly.

"i uh got hurt a few days ago but didn't tell anyone and it got worse! I don't think i can Play in the next Game!" Katie stated. You look at her.

"what happened? Where are you hurt?" You wanted to know.

"i slipped and fell on my back. I managed to pull through during practice but after i showered today i almost slipped again and the pain going through my Body was just terrible!" She admitted. You sigh softly.

"Katie, why didn't you say something right away? I mean you could have gotten it fixed already." You told her. "Show me exactly where it hurts?" She showed you and you took her to your little Office where you had everything you needed to fix her back. You had her lay down and put everything back in it's place and she immediately felt relief.

After that you all ate the Pizza, while the girls took turns holding Lio, who loved the Girls attention. He was such a smiley little boy. You also watched a movie together. It was too late to drive home though so you let them sleep in the guest bed room. Which basically was a room for the Arsenal girls at this point. You then put Lio to bed before you helped your wife to bed as well.

[harrysfolklore]

hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb

that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The night had been one for the books.

Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.

He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.

Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.

Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.

"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.

"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.

It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.

"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."

"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."

"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."

The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.

"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."

Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.

Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.

You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.

And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.

And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.

“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.

“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.

Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.

"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.

"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.

"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”

You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.

"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"

You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.

"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."

The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.

"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."

Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.

"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.

"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."

The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.

"Home it is, then."

[dontcurbyourenthusiasm]

Hashtag Worth it

(aka Play that Funky Music White Boy pt. 2)

(@lousolversons the gif god)

Warnings: None rlly, mentions of blood/vomit/pee, thats it! Just a whole lotta fluff (also not beta read so sorry for any errors!)

Description: Library books must be returned, and cute mousey haired boys must be kissed. It's the law of the land.

Word Count: 3.5k

---

Ever since Funky Music blasted through your place of work, you were unable to think of anything else. Every time those automatic doors whooshed open, your heartbeat would pick up as you prepared yourself for those puppy dog eyes and tousled brown hair. It had been weeks for Christ sake, but still you found yourself lingering by the Kid's Corner, long after you shelved the last children's book, just because it had a better view of the door.

You even started waking up earlier to do your hair before work. When you wore new earrings with a necklace to match, thats when your coworkers started to notice.

"Are you seeing someone?" Bess bluntly asks while in you were re-shelving by Philosophy and Psychology.

"Who would I be seeing Bess? I spend all my time here." You don't bother to stop shelving while answering with a beleaguered sigh.

Bess is not sold. "Then why are you getting all dressed up?" She pauses in thought. "Oh! Are you having a quarter life crisis?" She chirps in a sunny tone. Bess often got bored at work, the quiet of the library unnerving her more than anything. She also often, took out her boredom on you.

You try your hardest not to roll your eyes. "I had my quarter life crisis at 17 thank you very much," you reply, with the misplaced hope that she would drop the subject.

"Well, whats gotten into you lately? You're wearing jewelry, you keep checking your phone when I know your mom is the only person that texts you-"

"Thanks for that" you grumble.

"-so what is it? Do you have a new boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner? C'mon throw me a bone" she begs. "Nothing interesting ever happens in my life so I need you to do it for me."

Your mind flashes back to Dennis.

Mr. Funky Music.

Honestly, you wish you had something interesting to tell Bess. But you didn't. The situation couldn't be clearer. You pulled out your best flirty moves, recommended him books, AND gave him your phone number, but he never called you or bothered to come back. What bruised your ego even more, was that at the time, you could swear he was picking up what you were putting down.

At this point it seemed like he wouldn't ever come back; not even to return his book, which was now overdue by 2 days.

"I promise you Bess, I am completely, absolutely, utterly, PAINFULLY single-"

You're interrupted by the sheepish grin that has been haunting you for the past 3 weeks and 2 days.

Not that anyone was counting.

"I don't know if you remember me? I'm back for the other books you recommended," is all he says innocently, like he hasn't been stuck in the wrinkles of your brain.

"Hi" you blink blankly at him for a moment before finally registering his words. "Yes, right the books. I saved them in the back... do you wanna..." you motioned in the direction of the storage room.

"Sure," he answers before his gaze moves to a very amused Bess. "Hi I'm Dennis" he offers a hand.

She shakes his it, grinning like a hyena. "Bess," is all she says before slinking away.

As you make your way to the storage room, he starts by apologizing. "I'm really sorry it's overdue I didn't have time to come by and return it."

"Oh, it's no problem, we get overdue books all the time" You wave him off nonchalantly, like you haven't been refreshing his account on the desk computer everyday.

"I don't really get much time to read." The timid tenor of his voice gives you an edge of confidence.

"Oh yea? What are you so busy doing?" You tease.

"I'm a med student. Fourth year. It's when we do our rounds in actual hospitals."

Holy shit. Dennis Funky Music was actually Doctor Dennis Funky Music.

"What speciality are you thinking?" You ask, partly out of curiosity but mostly because the idea of him being a pediatrician made your ovaries want to explode.

"I'm in the ED right now."

ok thank god not a pediatrician. You were in no financial means to even THINK about having a child. But ED?

"Eating disorder? Erectile disfunction?" you raise a quizzical eyebrow.

"No! No, the Emergency Department" he hastily corrects, face flushing slightly.

Well shit. This adorably bug eyed barn mouse was actually an emergency doctor??

Picturing him running around, with a stethoscope around his neck and blood splattered on his scrubs made your palms sweat.

"Ah, so thats why you never called. Too busy saving lives" You reply, hinting casually to the unresolved matter of your little sticky note.

"I didn't know you wanted me to call" he says simply, his eyes wide.

Ugh you wanted to kiss that clueless little pout off his face

"I don't know about you, but I don't typically give out my number to people who I WOULDN'T want calling me."

"That's... true" he shrugs as if he's realizing that possibility for the first time.

You open the door to the storage and room and motion for him to follow. "This is where the magic happens."

It smelled of dust and old paper, probably because that's all that sat in there; old damaged books that needed to be thrown out, new books that still needed barcodes, or books in the return bin that needed to be sorted and re-shelved. On the floor next to the return bin was a small stack of books with a sticky note placed on top that read:

Dennis Whitaker (Funky Music)

He crouches down reaching for the books in the stack, opening them to read the inside cover. You settle next to him, sitting cross legged, back leaning against a nearby desk.

"I'll have you know, my recommendations have changed slightly, now that I know you're a doctor."

He pauses reading and peers at your curiously from the corner of his eye. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Some of the books in here are like, 700 pages. I doubt you have time for a book like that if you're running around saving people 12 hours a day."

"You're probably right," he concedes with a light chuckle, "But some of these look really good" he says eyes glued to the back covers.

You can't help the warm feeling that blooms in your chest.

This was what brought you to the library. And what kept you here. There was something so intimate about sharing a piece of literature. Especially if it was a book. It was like saying, 'here. I was immersed in a completely different world and I still thought of you.'

You don't realize that you're staring until he starts talking.

"So..." he starts fiddling with one of the books, picking at the barcode sticker. "You said something back there about being... painfully single?" He quotes you from earlier and you wrinkle your nose at the reminder.

Welp, he already heard it, why lie.

"Yep. Just me and a ficus." You admit.

"Well, I am... also single... as well" he trails off, his gaze nervously flickering to yours every few seconds.

Oh.

Your lips can't help but turn up into a cheesy smile.

"Dr. Whitaker. Are you asking me out?" You teasingly bump his shoulder with your own.

"Yea, if you're okay with it, obviously. And technically I'm not a doctor yet." he returns your gaze with a soft smile and it pinches your heart in an unfamiliar way.

"Well then, I'm off at three. Can you wait till three?" You check your phone.

You watch his light up at your response. "Yes. Yep, I can wait till three"

"Great!" You move to stand, sticking your hand out to help him up. His hands are slightly rough, probably from the vigorous washing and hand sanitizer, but his grip is gentle and sturdy. It made you wonder how many people he'd saved with these very hands. It also made you wonder if your hands ever fit together this well with anyone else.

When you usher him out and shut the storage room door behind you, your eyes catch Bess' from World Languages. She mouths 'nice' while holding her pointer and thumb in an 'ok' sign.

You roll your eyes and make your way to the circulation desk.

"I just need your library card," he slides it over on the counter before you finish your sentence, something resembling pride in his eye.

"I really liked the book." He says and you must've looked a bit confused because he immediately clarifies, "The one you first recommended me. The one with your number in it. I liked it for more than just your number, though the number was also nice"

FUCK he was cute when he talked. Did any man look good when he talked?

If any man had, you were positive you'd never seen it.

"It was one of my favourite short stories," you add. "It was a little different than Call of the Wild so I worried a bit, but looks like I worried for nothing." You smile as you check in the new book.

The Lamp at Noon.

It had been one of your favourites since you were forced to read it in high school, and something about him made you think he might like it too.

Before you knew it, you were quickly whisked back to work, as more children came in with books they wanted to renew, check out, and return. There was also a bin full of returned books that needed to be reorganized. While you worked, you were still able to sneak glimpses of Dennis, settled in a chair in the corner, nose deep in the new book you gave him.

"So, did you and Linguine do it in the storage room?" Bess' wolfish voice materializes from behind you.

"Ew. And what? Linguine?" You turn your head to convey your disgust and confusion directly.

"You know... from Ratatouille. The chef guy not the rat" her gazes fixes back on Dennis.

"Why would you-" You stop mid sentence.

Huh. Now that she mentioned it, you guess he did kind of look like that guy from Ratatouille.

His big round, down turned eyes that reminded you of a lost puppy, the slight skittishness, and his tousled brown hair, and even the soft tone of his voice.

"Ok ew don't do that," Bess makes a fake gagging noise. "Your lovesick look is disgusting."

"I am NOT lovesick. I barely know the guy." You punctuate the words, like you are trying to convince more than just Bess.

"Denial is a river in Egypt" she hums back at you. "Also," she adds casually, "you can head home early if you want. I'll re-shelve the rest in the bin today."

"Wait really?" it comes out a bit more eager than you expected.

"Yes, now go collect your boy before he melts into a puddle on the floor"

You don't even bother to correct her. You are already shrugging off your work vest and grabbing your bag by the storage room.

Bess' lip curls into a smile, muttering something that sounds like "fuckin' knew it" to herself.

You walk over to where he was, eyes still intently focused on the pages. He doesn't register you until you gently nudge his shoe with your own.

"Are you-" he checks the time on his phone. "Are you done already?"

"Bess let me get off early" you can't help but smile warmly. "Ready to go?"

"Yes" He shoots up to his feet.

Once standing your faces are much closer than either of you anticipated, but you don't move away. You see him his eyes widen in realization, immediately moving his gaze to the ceiling tiles.

He smells like soap and something else vaguely familiar. Kind of like when you walk into someone else's house at their 'home' smell reminds you of somewhere you've already been.

"You smell nice." Is all you say before starting towards the door. But just before you turn away, you can see his cheeks start to redden.

-

You opt to stop by the coffee shop a couple blocks from the library. You learned to love it after long shifts because of the reasonably priced coffee, bagels, and comfy cushioned booths (why all these swanky new coffee places decided to have rigid plastic chairs from hell, you had no idea).

As you both approached the menu, you could see his shoulders tense a little. After you give your order to the cashier you see him shake his head.

"You don't want anything?"

"I ate before I came here." Is all he says.

You don't reply and simply turn back to the counter to order two of each: the bagels and coffee.

"You really didn't ha-"

"I want to." you cut him off, and something in your tone kept him from arguing further. He shoots you a grateful smile. And that was the end of it.

After you are able to grab your food and settle down, you are quickly knee deep in work stories, as you both did little else and your jobs technically forced you to serve the public.

"I once had a kid throw up on me, and the kid's mom yelled at me like I was the one who made him eat three hotdogs and run around in circles."

"I might have you beat." An eyebrow quirks up at his words and you lean on your elbows, tilting towards him. "The first day of my ED rotation, I had to change my scrubs like 5 times. Twice because of blood, and another time because of an unsecured bottle of Mylanta, but the kicker was, I got urinated on while trying to subdue a patient."

"Okay you win" hands up in mock surrender. Hot dog kid was rough but at least you've never been pissed on. "That must've sucked"

He shrugs it off too casually in a manner even for a man who's job required him to be covered in bodily fluids. "It didn't end up being that bad. He was really nice about it. Just ended up being a guy struggling being off his meds without health insurance. That's actually how I learned about the street team." he pauses, smiling to himself softly before his smile transitions to a more mischievous one. "Plus, the same day, another intern dropped a scalpel INTO another doctor's foot so..."

All you could do was giggle at the joke and inspect the soft look in his eye.

He continued with a few of his stories from his time on the street team. The people he encountered, the glimpses of their lives he saw, and how it changed the way he worked back at the ED. The whole time you couldn't tear yourself away from his eyes. The gentle understanding and compassion was palpable; radiating off of him.

From working in a public library you also had your experiences with houseless people in the community. Many would come to use the washrooms, use wifi, print things, or even take a nap on the couches. Although you did your best to make sure the library was a comfortable place for them, you knew not everyone felt the same way.

You learned quickly from work that something that seemed as obvious as respecting someone's basic humanity wasn't guaranteed.

"So why the library?" He asks.

"I like books." you shrug and he looks at you intently like he knows theres more underneath. So you continue. Crack yourself open a touch. "I've always liked them. When written right, I feel the characters like they're real people, like they're my friends or something."

You knew how that sounded to other people; like you were a friendless recluse, obsessing over people that didn't exist; figments of your imagination. While that was true to some degree, you weren't a hermit. You had real life friends and a semi-operational social life, and you found these relationships incredibly fulfilling. But it didn't mean that the humanity of reading a book and experiencing someone's innermost thoughts and feelings was any less sacred.

"Human emotions are able to transcend time; I'm able to feel something someone wrote about 200 years ago. I feel like it's the closest thing we have to time travel."

He quirks his head in thought. "I guess... I guess I've never thought about it like that."

And you're left without anything to say because of that look on his face.

His eyes.

Even when he wasn't looking at you, you could almost see the gears turning in his brain, holding on to your every word. Now that he was looking at you, it felt like he was taking the time to absorb each and every word. Trying to absorb you.

It's an unfamiliar feeling; someone paying so much attention to you. Not to analyze you, or grade you, or lodge a complaint to the library board, but just to know you.

The realization made your heart pinch again. The same way it did back the first time, when his ringtone scared the shit out of him, and before, when he asked you out in the storage room. There's a split second where you don't know what to do with the feeling; you don't know where to put it. His sincerity sort of...

scared you.

Not in a bad way obviously, but in a way that was so clearly unfamiliar to you. People (least of all men) were rarely this attentive, or in tune with themselves or with you. His motives, his thoughts, his desires were all so clear. He was so transparent in a way that made you wanna do the same. It was something you didn't quite know you were signing up for when you ambushed with him while he was reading or when you put your number in his book.

But maybe you were ready for it.

"I really like you" is all you say, getting it out before you talk yourself out of it.

He looks a little surprised, but his face quickly softens into a smile.

"I like you too" he looks down at his drink for a moment. "... alot."

You take a quick scan of the cafe. Most of the patrons had left for the evening, leaving you two and an older couple as the sole patrons across the floor, all the way by the doors.

Without the pressure of extra eyes, you scooch into his side of the booth and slide a hand on top of his.

You feel his fingers tense up under your palm and there’s a flash of doubt in your mind before he curls your intertwined fingers into his palm.

That gives you the bravery to take one last look around the coffee shop before sneaking a quick peck to his right cheek. You can't help the giddy smile that curls on your lips as his cheeks turn red under the skin your lips just touched. His puppy dog eyes are wide and his lips are parted slightly in a way that is painfully kissable. You watch as his flush travels up his ears, and you're openly oogling him when he surprises you by asking:

"Can I kiss you?" His voice is a little hoarse, but his eyes are sincere and searching.

Completely unexpected (but not unwelcome) you're only able to nod, and his other hand, the one not curled under your own, reaches over to cup your cheek, fingertips just grazing your scalp.

You expected a peck; everything about him lead you to believe it would be.

But the firmness of his grip and the heat behind his lips catches you off guard for half a second. Your body catches up to him before your mind does, as you return the gentle pressure of his lips with your own. You can't help your tongue as it moves to lightly graze his lower lip. You feel his breath hitch before he returns the favour.

An abrupt cough rips the two of you apart.

"We're closing in 5 minutes" A very unimpressed teenager in the cafe uniform stares down at the two of you, mop in hand.

"Yep! Uh- right. Sorry, we'll be right out!" Dennis scrambles for your stuff, ushering you out of the booth while you are still a little dazed, pressing your lips together in effort to hold in a laugh.

Your laughter finally breaks when the door of the cafe shuts behind you both. He gazes down at you amused, chuckling alongside you.

"I can't believe you got me kicked out of my favourite coffee shop" you muse.

"Don't blame me, you started it" he raises his hands in mock surrender. You take a second to drink in his expression; eyes still slightly crinkled with remains of his laughter and his cheeks still slightly pink.

"Hashtag worth it."

"You did not just hashtag something in real life" he deadpans.

You quickly bring your lips to his in a quick peck, pulling away quickly.

Could someone be addicted to kissing?

"I did, big time" your tone is casual but a sly smile gives you away, as you walk toward the bus stop. There's a beat of silence before you hear his rapid footsteps catching up to you.

---

AFJGYODISIHUDYSGUEB thank you for reading, I really did love writing this, Whitaker deserves all the love in the world and I really love writing fluff. I already have ideas for a 3rd part, involving an introduction to the rest of the Pitt gang so if yall would be into that lemme know!!!! (also some smut next maybe...)

Here are some Whitaker x You meeting Santos headcanons!

[svp3rrn0va]

A Night With the Sallows (NSFW)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow & F!MC

Summary: Your best friend Anne invites you to the cottage in Feldcroft for a long overdue sleepover while her uncle is away. You're excited at the prospect of spending quality time with your best friend and her twin brother who you've secretly pined over for years. You end up confiding in her about your feelings for Sebastian, which causes him to act a bit strange from that point on -- until the middle of the night.

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, fluff, creampie, public(?) intercourse, friends to lovers

Word Count: 4,973

I've legit been writing this one on and off for months lol I've had insane writer's block and also self-doubt cause I think my writing could be so much better, but here it is haha

(also I realized after posting that I messed up on the positions, during sexy time they are in one position then after they finish I describe Sebastian collapsing as if he was on top of her the whole time uhhh just ignore that that's just genuinely me forgetting and I'm too lazy to change LMFAO)

Hello,

I wanted to let you know my uncle Solomon will be away for the weekend, so I’d like to invite you to Feldcroft for a sleepover. I’ve really missed you this summer and I would love to see you!

Sincerely,

Anne

You were so excited you almost didn’t even send your owl back to inform Anne of your visit before heading to the Floo Flame. Of course Anne wouldn’t mind if you’d shown up without notice beforehand, but a response is always polite.

Anne was your best friend since your very first year at Hogwarts. Now you’re in your seventh year, and this happens to be the very first time you’ve been invited to her cottage. Her uncle has never been fond of her having visitors, and you were alright with that. You preferred to avoid him entirely, as he’d always been incredibly cold towards you, as he is with everyone. You never understood why he seemed to be so mad at the world.

As much as you were eager to spend the night with Anne, especially with no adult supervision (Because who wants that at 18?), you couldn’t deny you were highly anticipating spending a night with her brother Sebastian as well. You’ve known Sebastian as long as you’ve known Anne, and you know each other pretty well, but you’ve never been as close with him. However, your relationship is friendly and you are comfortable around one another.

But what he or Anne doesn’t know is you’ve been harbouring a massive crush on him for years. It started around fourth year when he’d hit puberty. His voice changed, he grew taller, and his face looked more mature. Although now, the three of you are 18, and he’s grown into a very, very, very handsome young man.

Sometimes you wondered if he could’ve ever reciprocated those feelings, and at times it seemed like maybe he did. You’d catch him giving a few too many glances in your direction, or getting quieter in your presence, like he was almost bashful. Although you chalked it up to delusion.

You sent back your owl informing Anne that you will be at the cottage in an hour’s time knowing Anne likes to keep it extra tidy so she’d have to do little to nothing to prepare for your arrival.

One hour later on the dot, you found yourself in Feldcroft walking up to the Sallow cottage. You almost hesitated with knocking as you thought you’d appear a little too eager being perfectly punctual, but you knocked on the door anyway.

You nearly felt like your lungs had collapsed when the door opened and you found Sebastian standing before you. You’d only seen him at the end of June and it was late August now, but he looked much more tan and his arms had noticeably grown muscle from his work on the farm.

“H-hello,” you stammered a bit pathetically.

“Welcome,” he replied, giving you a devilishly handsome smile. “Anne’s just in here baking some biscuits. Make yourself at home.”

Sebastian stepped aside and held out his arm to invite you inside. What a gentleman. Anne stood in the kitchen and she turned to see you, her face lighting up.

“Yay, you’re here!” She stepped away from the oven to approach you and engulf you in a big hug. “I’m so happy to see you. I know seventh year only starts in a couple of weeks but I couldn’t wait any longer!”

“Neither could I, I couldn’t say no! The biscuits smell delicious, by the way.”

“Thank you!” Anne squealed. “I wanted to be productive this summer, so I thought I’d take up baking. I’m quite good at it, actually.”

“She is,” Sebastian mumbled with a mouthful of apple pie.

Anne scoffed. “Sebastian, I told you that last slice was for her!”

His face dropped as he swallowed another bite. “Oh…”

“That’s alright,” you reassured with a laugh. “He deserves it, he looks like he’s done a lot of hard work recently.” You didn’t realize you had been staring and chewing your lip until you saw his cheeks turn a bright red.

“I suppose so,” Anne grumbled obliviously. “But I’ll have to bring you a pie when we go back to Hogwarts, and Sebastian will keep his claws away from it.”

Laughter filled the room from you and Anne as Sebastian rolled his eyes, but a smirk grew across his face. It was rare that you got to spend time with the two of them alone as you were often in a crowded castle, or in the Undercroft along with Ominis. Admittedly, you were really excited that Ominis wasn’t there. Nothing against him, but your heart raced at the fact that you’d ultimately get more attention from Sebastian than usual since he only had one other person to divide his attention towards rather than two.

Anne returned to the kitchen to continue on the biscuits, silence beginning to grow throughout the cottage. You found your gaze falling back onto Sebastian just as he traced his index finger along the plate, wiping up sauce from the pie. You felt vibrations course through your body as he put his finger into his mouth and licked it clean. Your neck cracked at how fast you whipped your head away once he made eye contact with you after that innocent but incredibly lewd action.

“So,” he piped up. “How was your summer? Get up to anything exciting?”

“N- not really,” you croaked, quickly clearing your throat in embarrassment after your voice cracked pathetically. “I’ve just been doing a lot of research for the career I want to get into once we graduate.”

His eyebrows raised. “Oh really? Have you decided on anything yet?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe. I suppose? I don’t really want to work for the Ministry. I want to do something more… more impactful. Something inspiring. Maybe teaching.”

“Teaching,” Sebastian smirked. “I always thought you’d get into something like that. It’s fitting for you.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” You asked, scratching your head.

He smiled again. “Good thing. I just mean you’re great with people.”

“Oh,” you replied softly. “Thank you.”

Your friendly conversation with Sebastian was interrupted by Anne sighing and mumbling in frustration from the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, Anne?” Asked Sebastian.

“I’ll be making beef stew for dinner tonight. I was just making sure that we had all the ingredients, but it turns out we don’t have the beef stock. I can’t make the stew without it,” she grumbled.

Sebastian stood up with a shrug. “Not to worry, I can take the floo over to Hogsmeade and pick some up. Gives you both time to catch up.”

“No, it’s fine. I can go get it for you as a thank you for cooking for us,” you offered.

Sebastian put a hand out to stop you. “No, you sit and relax. It won’t take me long at all. Besides, I’d like to stop at The Magic Neep anyway.”

“Lovely. Thank you, Sebastian,” Anne replied.

He grabbed his floo pouch and headed towards the front door. He turned back to you both with a smirk.

“Don’t have too much fun without me.” He winked, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

***

15 minutes had passed full of you and Anne gossiping about your summers. Granted Anne had much more to say. Feldcroft always felt so quiet when you were there, but as it turned out it had a lot of drama.

Just as you were getting ready to begin reminiscing about previous years at Hogwarts, you went silent when you saw Anne pull out a fresh can of beef stock.

“Isn’t that—“

“Yes, it is,” Anne interrupted. “I knew we had it the whole time. I just wanted an excuse to get Sebastian out of the house.”

You blinked. “Oh.”

“I just wanted some girl time,” she smiled. “I’ll just hide it so he doesn’t find it and think he wasted his time.”

Anne brought the can over to the China cabinet and hid it in a tall teapot, and you laughed.

“What? He isn’t going to think to look in there,” she chuckled.

She came and sat beside you in the lounge. You froze as you noticed her looking at you quite intensely, like she was hesitating to say something rather direct.

“Is- is everything alright?” You asked a bit nervously.

Anne scratched her chin and sighed. “Alright, I’ll admit it. I didn’t want Sebastian gone just for us to have girl time. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nodded slowly.

“Do you like Sebastian?” She asked bluntly.

You nearly felt the air escape your lungs, and you felt the only appropriate response was to play dumb.

“Of course I do.”

“No, I mean… do you like Sebastian?”

She saw right through it. You should have known. She knows you too well.

“How did you-“

“Aha! I knew it! You know you’re really not that discreet,” she gloated.

“If you did then why did you ask me?”

“I just wanted you to admit it,” she grinned. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’ve looked at him that way for a long time now, but today you’ve been very obvious about it.”

You felt your cheeks burning up. “I have, haven’t I?”

The two of you sat in silence for a bit. You were unsure what to say, and Anne felt guilty for putting you on the spot after noticing how shy you looked, and didn’t feel obliged to further pressure you.

“Are- are you… alright with it?” You asked quietly.

She gave you a reassuring smile. “Of course I am, don’t worry.” She put her hand on your shoulder, and you felt relieved. “You can’t help the way you feel, that’s alright. Just don’t fawn over him to me. That would be gross.”

The two of you laugh. You thought if anyone knew the way you felt about Sebastian, you were happy it was Anne.

“How long have you liked him?”

“Since fourth year.”

“Really? That long? Why haven’t you told him?”

“Are you joking?” You chuckled in disbelief. “It would be strange. We aren’t that close, and I’m sure he barely knows anything about me.”

“Are you joking?” Anne repeated. “You met Sebastian the same time you met me. Ominis might be his best friend, but we’ve all spent an incredible amount of time together. I guarantee you know a lot more about each other than you think you do. You are by no means strangers.”

You nodded. She was right. You’ve just always been too insecure to speak up.

“He asks about you, you know. Quite often, actually,” she admitted.

“Really?”

“Mhm. I have lots of friends at Hogwarts but he doesn’t ask about them nearly as much as you.”

The butterflies in your stomach were so intense you thought you’d cough one up.

“I just-“ You twiddled your thumbs as you found the words to say. “I really admire the way he protects you, or protects anyone he loves. He’s not afraid to put himself in danger for anyone. He’s really ambitious, to a fault, really. But he’s so smart he’ll have no trouble achieving anything he wants to achieve. He’s so kind, and he genuinely has interest in what anyone has to say. But he’s also stubborn which can be really annoying. No one’s perfect, though.”

Anne smiled. “That sure does sound like him. I’m glad you see him that way, although I think he’s an utter knob.”

The both of you laughed. She was right, Sebastian can be an utter knob.

Just then, the door opened. Sebastian had returned with the beef stock in hand. You stopped laughing rather quickly, your shyness coming back round in an instant. Anne, however, remained completely natural, like your conversation hadn’t happened.

“Thank you very much, Seb,” Anne said, standing up to retrieve the can from Sebastian, which unbeknownst to him was not needed.

“What are you two giggling about?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Anne lied. “Nothing a silly boy would understand.”

***

Dinner went by smoothly. The three of you laughed and reminisced together about times spent in the Undercroft as children. Anne was right, Sebastian did know a lot about you. He asked you about hobbies you used to be interested in, things you didn’t even remember being interested in.

“Do you still take up knitting these days?”

“Knitting? When was the last time you talked about knitting?” Anne asked with a laugh.

Not since third year, and you had only mentioned trying it out once. You were pretty astounded he managed to remember that, or even care. How much attention has he actually paid you? How were you not aware of that?

You also noticed that since he returned from Hogsmeade, he seemed to… look at you a lot more. In fact, he seemed to hardly be able to take his eyes off you. Did he know something?

That night, you found yourself tossing and turning when you tried to sleep. You considered that maybe it was because you were sleeping on the floor (and Anne had graciously offered that you sleep on her bed, which you refused since she went through the effort to make your meal) but you knew you were lying to yourself. You felt anxious, and you had regretted being so open to Anne about your feelings to Sebastian. What if she spilled the beans to Sebastian? What if he started avoiding you if he knew how you felt? You trusted Anne, you knew she would never tell other people your secrets, but you always tended to dwell on the worst possible scenario.

An hour later, you finally began to feel groggy, and the pit in your stomach started to fade away. You turned on your side and closed your eyes, grateful that Anne could somehow manage to make even sleeping on the floor so comfortable.

You felt yourself drifting off to sleep, your breathing getting slower and your thoughts becoming a jumbled mess as you were losing consciousness. However, you were suddenly pulled out of that sleepy state when you felt the blankets next to you shift. You ignored it at once, brushing it off as a hypnagogic hallucination.

No. The blankets were definitely being lifted, and you could feel someone else’s body warmth next to you. You slowly turned your head back, and your eyes were struggling to adjust in the darkness, but you could still make out the silhouette.

It was Sebastian.

Your mind began to race, and your thoughts started to scream at you. Is he sleepwalking? He has to be sleepwalking. Anne never mentioned Sebastian having a sleepwalking problem… maybe she didn’t know?

Sebastian didn’t seem to notice you had turned your head, so you slowly turned your head back and rested it back on your pillow, telling yourself that if he is sleepwalking you won’t bother to wake him up since it could be dangerous.

You almost passed away when you felt his fingers gently brush over your hair and pull it behind your ear. He must have felt your breath hitch, because you heard him gently whisper-

“Turn around.”

Obviously, you complied. Something in you told you that you’d regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t. You turned to face him, and your eyes had adjusted to the darkness better. Seeing his face this close had your mind whirling — he was so beautiful.

He brought his hand up to your lips and brushed his thumb across your bottom one, and you exhaled out of your mouth as he did so. His actions were so soft, but so seductive at the same time.

“What are you-“ You began to ask, but you were interrupted with Sebastian planting his lips on yours.

You wanted to moan, but you remembered Anne was just sleeping feet away from you both in her bed. The cottage had no doors, only curtains separating the space, so you had to stay as quiet as possible.

You’d only ever kissed one other boy before — Isaac Cooper. It was during a weekend in the library, and you were doing some extra research for an essay. You always preferred weekend studying because it was a lot more likely the library would be empty with most students enjoying their time outside the grounds. It wasn’t empty that time, however.

Isaac is a Quidditch player, a very popular one at that. He’s developed a massive ego from the constant praise and ogles from desperate girls, causing him to believe he can have anyone he wants.

You found yourself alone in the library with him, as he had been ordered to use his time on the weekends studying since all his focus on quidditch was causing his marks to drop.

He approached you with his typical cocky and obnoxious demeanor, and you made it very clear to him you were not interested, no matter how many shallow and demeaning compliments about your appearance he threw your way. Isaac thought he could change your mind, so he grabbed you and pulled you in for the sloppiest, most disgusting kiss known to man. His tongue flapped and licked all over your face like he didn’t know where your mouth was.

You shoved him off and he retreated rather quickly after you gave him a big, humbling slap to the face — not before calling you some unfriendly words first.

With that said, despite you not having much experience prior to this, you knew Sebastian was doing it right. It was like he had practiced kissing his entire life, or maybe he was simply born with the skill. You didn’t want to think about how many girls he’d possibly kissed before you.

His kiss was soft and tender, then it would evolve to be more passionate and desperate, then back to soft and tender. He was strategic with the use of his tongue, he didn’t use it too much or too little. It was just right.

“Seb…” you breathed as he pulled away from your mouth and pressed hungry kisses to your cheek, jaw, and neck.

He lifted himself off you, bringing a finger to his lips to silence you. You complied. After a few more kisses and sucks of your soft flesh that were sure to leave marks, he removed his mouth and you almost whimpered at the sudden loss of contact. Sebastian placed his hand on your shoulder and began to push. Not aggressively, but gently, as if he was guiding you. You turned your back to him once again.

Assuming that he wanted to spoon you, you scooted back, pressing your body up against his. Your eyes widened as you made contact with the unmistakable hardness in his pajama trousers. That’s when you felt his hand disappear under the blanket covering the two of you, and his fingers pinched on the bottom of your nightgown and began pulling it up.

You subconsciously reached down as well to attempt to grab the gown to prevent him from pulling it up any higher, but you stopped yourself. You wanted this, you’ve wanted this for years. No, you craved it.

Sebastian groaned quietly when he noticed you weren’t wearing any undergarments. You never wore them to sleep as you’ve always slept better that way. You gasped when his big hand grasped and squeezed your arse cheek. His hand slid lower and lower down to your kneecap. His fingers dipped in between your knees, lifting your top leg up and over him, resting it over top of his legs.

He began kissing the nape of your neck again and you shivered. His fingers rubbed up and down on your thigh before he slowly reached over you, his hand inching down closer and closer to your slick core.

He bent his other arm which was resting across the pillows, and brought a finger to your chin to turn your head to face him, where he began to kiss your lips again. Your eyes slammed shut and your mouth opened wide in the middle of the kiss when his finger pressed against your clit.

You bit down on your lip hard as Sebastian began to rub your clit gently. His slow circles along with his soft, wet lips pressing sweet kisses on your jaw felt heavenly. The pleasure was nearly making you forget Anne was sleeping just to the right of you both, so you had almost slipped up and made noise more than once.

“How’s that feel, baby?” He whispered, his breath hitting your ear sending goosebumps through your body.

Baby. That nickname alone nearly brought you to an orgasm and he’d only just started touching you.

“S-so good, fuck,” you choked.

You began rocking your hips as he rubbed faster, pressing your lower half back into his groin, a relieved sigh emitting from his lips.

“I want you to come, darling,” Sebastian purred. “Come for me.”

After those words left his mouth, his middle finger dipped into your slit, dragging across to collect all your juices before continuing to rub circles on your swollen nub.

“So fucking pretty, my baby.”

That was all it took, only the praise to send you over the edge. Sebastian softly chuckled in satisfaction in the nape of your neck as your legs began to shake. Your mouth opened and Sebastian’s hand quickly clasped over it to keep you quiet as you ran out your orgasm, his finger still rubbing your clit delicately as your pussy throbbed.

“Well done,” cooed Sebastian as he licked your mess clean off his finger, just like he did with the pie. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen.

Once you had recuperated, you thought it was over, but Sebastian’s boner was so evident you thought it unfair for these activities to end without him getting his share of pleasure as well. You were quite relieved when you felt Sebastian starting to shimmy his trousers down behind you.

You tried to lift your leg off him so it would be easier for him to do so, but he grabbed it to stop you.

“No, keep it there. It’ll be easier to fill you like this.”

Your heat began to burn once again at his dirty words, and they sounded even better in that sultry whisper.

“Don’t you want me to touch you?” You asked, a bit embarrassed at the slight desperation in your tone.

“Baby, I’m so hard I don’t need you to, I just want to be inside you,” he replied, gently moving some hair out of your face. “Remember to be quiet, alright?”

You nodded, and he gave you a sweet peck on the lips.

Sebastian rubbed his tip along your slit, lubricating it in your juices, and you clenched your fist against your pillow. He gave you chills as he placed a hand on your waist while he gently pushed into you.

You winced in pain as he filled you, your pussy still being too tight for him. He stopped quickly once he noticed your reaction.

“Are you alright, baby?” He asked calmly, running a hand through your hair. “Would you like to stop?”

“N-no, just keep going,” you said. “Let me get used to you.”

Sebastian continued to push his cock inside you, inching in as slow as possible to let you spread for him with little to no pain. You shivered once he was all the way inside you and his balls pressed against your ass.

He asked you if you were alright one more time to check on you, you nodded, and he began to gently rock his hips into you. With the position you were in he was able to hit you at an angle, perfectly rubbing against your G-spot. You felt tingles in your stomach with every thrust and you were seeing stars.

“Fuck….” he purred into your ear. Sebastian leaned in even closer to you, dragging his lip sensually along your along as he fucked you.

His arm snaked underneath yours, reaching around you to cup and massage your tit as he began to thrust into you even faster. He tried to avoid going all the way in as the sound of your skin slapping together could be enough to wake Anne, who was still sound asleep in her bed, none the wiser.

You admired his hand as it squeezed your breast– the way it flexed, how manly and veiny and how big it was. He could fit your entire breast in his hand.

“Merlin, I've fantasized about your pussy, feels even better than I imagined,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttered at his words. He has fantasized about you… you wondered if he'd done it as often as you have about him. He has no idea how many times you've gone to your dorm after spending time with him in the Undercroft, making sure the bedroom was empty before crawling into bed and petting your clit, filling yourself up with your fingers wishing it was his cock instead.

Now here you are, with his cock inside of you, and you realized just how useless your fingers had always been. They've never given you the satisfaction you needed, but Sebastian’s dick stimulated you in all the right ways that it didn't take long for you to approach your peak again.

“Sebastian, I'm gonna-”

“Me too, you feel so good I'm not going to last much longer,” he breathlessly replied.

He lowered himself down and pressed his soft lips against your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak and sucking softly. That was it for you.

Your second orgasm approached rapidly, and it was so strong your brain went fuzzy. You clenched your legs around his waist and dug your nails into his back as your vision began to blur at the overwhelming pleasure.

“I-I love you,” you blurted unintentionally as you were fully lost in your release.

You bit down on your lip forcefully and held your breath, internally screaming at yourself not to make noise as the pleasure spread throughout your entire body.

As for Sebastian, your sudden admission was enough to bring him over the edge as well, along with your walls pulsing around his shaft. He could hardly hold his weight and practically collapsed on top of you as his cock spilled.

You let out a quivering sigh as you felt his warm load spray inside you while his length twitched between your legs.

The two of you lay there panting softly, chest to chest with Sebastian's head resting in the crook of your neck. 

Creak.

You both shot up at the speed of light, whipping your heads toward Anne, who was turning into her opposite side, still completely oblivious to the act you two had just committed practically right beside her. 

You both quietly chuckled and Sebastian returned to his position nuzzling your shoulder.

“I can't believe she slept through that, thank Merlin,” you whispered. “She'd probably kill us both, or die of horror. You should probably get back into your bed, Seb…. Seb?”

Somehow, in that brief moment, Sebastian managed to fall asleep. You considered waking him up, but he looked so peaceful, and you loved having him touch you like this. You let him sleep, and you used your free arm to stroke the back of his head. You couldn't fight the smile that spread across your face as you listened to his soft breathing as he slept.

You decided you'd just wake him up early so he could move back before Anne woke up. But that didn't happen.

“Ahem….”

The two of you were woken up the next morning to Anne standing above you both, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

“Good morning,” she stated.

“Shit,” Sebastian grumbled.

“I don't know what happened in the middle of the night that led to this, and I don't think I want to know. Anyhow, I'm getting ready to make breakfast. How do you like your eggs?” She asked you.

“Erm, s-scrambled,” you answered shyly.

“Scrambled,” Anne chuckled, before muttering so softly you could barely hear her. “Something certainly was.”

She walked off towards the kitchen, and Sebastian ran a hand across his sleepy face and let out a small laugh. “She'll get over it. At least she didn't hear anything.”

“Right. But, um-” you hesitated, and Sebastian looked at you expectantly. “Why did you- I mean how did you know- what if I didn't want that?”

“Well, you did, we fucked.” You rolled your eyes as you elbowed him, and he laughed again. “I'm just teasing you, I didn't know. Well, I knew you had feelings for me. I heard you talking to Anne. I was listening at the door before I came in, when you were saying all those nice things about how I'm smart and protective and such.”

“Oh.” Your face began to burn with embarrassment, but it faded once he placed a finger over your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“It was really nice, thank you. I've felt the same way about you for ages, if that wasn't obvious by now. And I didn't know you'd want that by the way… I just knew if I didn't make a move last night I'd be too shy to later. But after we kissed, I just- I couldn't resist you.”

You smiled, and he gave you a soft peck on the lips.

“I'll help Anne set the table for breakfast,” you said as you began to get up.

“-by the way.”

You couldn't hear what he had said between Anne making noise in the kitchen and the ruffling of blankets as you rose. “What?”

“I said I love you too.”

[honeydippedfiction]

Angel and Joe with 'Eagerly watching you hold a little fashion show after coming home from shopping.' but then it turns spicy with Toying with a piece of clothing, whether that be the collar of your shirt, slowly undoing your belt, sliding a finger under the waistband of your underwear before letting it snap back against your skin. and 'don't just stand there, you tease. come here and let me taste'

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#26. Eagerly watching you hold a little fashion show after coming home from shopping. 'Toying with a piece of clothing, whether that be the collar of your shirt, slowly undoing your belt, sliding a finger under the waistband of your underwear before letting it snap back against your skin. and 'don't just stand there, you tease. come here and let me taste'

Joe Burrow x Angel

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

The sun had barely crested the horizon when Angel Burrow cracked open one sleepy eye, hearing the soft coos of her six-month-old daughter, Zariyah, on the baby monitor. She smiled to herself—those little morning babbles were her favorite soundtrack these days.

Joe was still asleep, sprawled across the bed with one arm slung lazily over where Angel had been. For a moment, she lingered there, watching her quarterback husband sleep, his curls mussed and his face at peace. A soft warmth filled her chest, but today was her day.

Her girls day.

She hadn’t had one since Zariyah was born, and she could feel it in her bones—she needed this. Needed to step back into the version of herself that existed before spit-up stained sweaters and three-hour naps on the nursery floor.

After six months of adjusting to the beautiful chaos that came with being a new mother to baby Zariyah, Angel was finally carving out a few hours for herself. A long-overdue girls day with her best friend Monica was exactly what the doctor ordered—and frankly, her soul had been begging for it.

“Z is fed, dressed, and in a great mood,” she said aloud, more to herself than anyone, as she packed the diaper bag for Joe.

Downstairs, Joe bounced their daughter gently in his arms, pacing back and forth near the front door. Zariyah’s soft curls had a mind of their own, much like her spirit. She giggled and squealed every time Joe made a silly face or kissed her cheeks.

When Angel descended the stairs, radiant in an effortless two-piece set and sneakers so clean they practically sparkled, Joe paused and looked her over with open admiration. “Damn,” he said, blinking slowly. “Girls day, huh?”

Angel chuckled, grabbing her bag. “Don’t act surprised. I told you I was getting cute today.”

“You’re always cute,” he replied with a smirk, handing over the baby with a little spin. “But today? You’re trouble.”

Zariyah babbled in agreement.

Angel kissed Joe on the cheek and then Zariyah’s forehead. “Try not to let her drive you crazy,” she teased.

Joe gave her a mock salute. “Ten-hut, Captain Mom. We’ll hold down the fort.”

Outside, Monica was already waiting in her sleek black SUV, music pulsing faintly through the closed windows. She rolled it down as soon as Angel approached, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose.

“Ohhh, yes ma’am!” Monica called out. “You better walk down that driveway like it’s a runway.”

Angel tossed her bag into the car and slid into the passenger seat. “Let’s go before I remember I left two loads of laundry in the dryer.”

Monica laughed, throwing the car into drive. “Don’t worry, babe. Today is about vibes, not responsibilities.”

Their first stop was brunch downtown. They sat on the patio, warm sun on their skin and mimosas in hand. The conversation flowed as easily as the citrusy drinks—catching up on everything from Monica’s new situationship to Angel’s sleepless nights and all the messy beauty in between.

“You’re glowing,” Monica said between bites of avocado toast. “Motherhood looks real good on you.”

Angel grinned, swirling her drink. “Thanks, but I’ve been looking like a raccoon for the past six months. I needed this detox from diapers.”

After brunch, they hit the nail salon—chrome gel sets with detailed accents, because as Monica said, “It’s all in the details, babe.” From there, they swung by their favorite hair salon for scalp massages and blowouts, each of them emerging with fresh styles and new energy.

It was late afternoon when they reached the mall. The air conditioning offered sweet relief from the heat as they strolled from one store to the next, arms slowly accumulating shopping bags like medals of honor. Sephora. Zara. A Black-owned boutique tucked in the corner where Angel snagged a sleek jumpsuit and Monica talked her into matching gold hoops.

While browsing in one store, they were stopped by a group of young women, one of whom gasped when she recognized Angel.

“Oh my God, you’re Joe Burrow’s wife, right?”

Angel paused, a bit startled but gracious. “I am.”

“We love you guys!” the woman gushed. “And your baby is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Can we get a picture?”

Angel smiled, nodding. “Of course!”

As Monica snapped the photos, one of the girls whispered, “She’s even prettier in real life.”

Back in motion, Monica nudged her. “You really are the people’s princess.”

Angel rolled her eyes playfully. “Nah, I’m just the woman who married the golden boy.”

Monica scoffed. “Please. You’re the Angel Burrow. Don’t play yourself.”

Their final stop was an upscale lingerie boutique nestled near the mall’s exit. The lighting was soft, the music low and sultry, and the air smelled faintly of jasmine and vanilla.

“Alright,” Monica said, already eyeing a sheer emerald green set. “Time to shop for a surprise. My little boo has no idea what’s coming.”

Angel chuckled, trailing behind her. “You’re such a menace.”

“I try,” Monica said, flicking a hanger with flair.

As Monica hunted down sizes and styles, Angel meandered through the displays, half-interested—until her hands brushed over a deep red satin teddy. She stopped. It was bold, romantic… and exactly the kind of thing she hadn’t worn in months.

Before she knew it, she had gathered a small pile: the red teddy, a black lace bodysuit with strategic cutouts, and a blush-toned bralette and panty set with delicate gold embroidery.

When Monica returned, her arms full of hangers, she glanced at Angel’s haul and smirked.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, setting her own pieces down. “About time you brought that fire back, momma. You’re trying those and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Angel raised a skeptical brow. “Says the woman who once convinced me to buy thigh-high boots I never wore.”

“And you still looked bomb in them. Now go.”

Monica took the lead in the changing rooms, emerging in a rotating lineup of sultry and sleek. Each time, she struck a pose for Angel.

“This one says ‘I’m a snack.’ This one says ‘full-course meal.’ This one says ‘dessert at midnight.’”

Angel laughed so hard her stomach hurt. “That one definitely says ‘booty is a privilege.’”

Once Monica narrowed down her final picks, she gave Angel a pointed look. “Alright. Your turn.”

Angel hesitated. “It’s been a minute.”

“And yet,” Monica said, taking a seat outside the fitting rooms, “you’re still that girl. Let’s go.”

Angel emerged a few minutes later in the red teddy, smoothing the straps. The moment she stepped into the soft light, Monica gasped.

“Angel. Oh, this is it. That color on your skin? You’re dangerous.”

Each outfit brought more cheers—or the occasional “Nah, that one’s not a winner,” because Monica kept it real. By the end, Angel stood in front of the mirror in the black lace bodysuit, feeling more like herself than she had in months.

She turned. “Too much?”

“Girl,” Monica said, wide-eyed, “Joe is going to keep you locked up in that house once he sees you in these.”

They laughed their way to checkout, arms full of delicate lace and silk. As the cashier rang them up, Angel raised an eyebrow at her total and winced. “My bank account is crying.”

“But your man’s gonna be praising the heavens,” Monica replied, tossing a wink. “Worth every penny.”

The sun had started its slow descent, stretching golden fingers across the freeway as Angel and Monica sped along with the windows cracked just enough to let the early evening breeze sweep through the SUV. The playlist—curated expertly by Monica, of course—shifted from upbeat girl anthems to smooth R&B, blending laughter with bass.

Angel’s curls danced in the wind, and her lips moved to every lyric like muscle memory. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, bags rustling quietly in the back seat with every turn.

Monica leaned back with a satisfied sigh, legs crossed on the dash like the day hadn’t drained her at all. “We needed today. Like, spiritually.”

Angel nodded. “My soul’s been on life support. I forgot how good it feels to just... exist. Outside of diapers and bottles.”

“You’re still that girl, and don’t let motherhood make you forget it,” Monica replied, pointing with her fresh chrome nails. “Joe’s about to be a problem once he sees what you bought.”

Angel smirked, eyes still on the road. “He might faint. I may have gone a little overboard.”

Monica let out a delighted cackle. “You? Overboard? Sis, your man is an NFL quarterback who worships the ground you walk on. He’ll build an altar when he sees you in that red lace.”

By the time they pulled up in front of Monica’s apartment, the car was full of new energy—sisterhood, shared secrets, the hum of restoration.

Angel parked at the curb and turned down the music. “Thanks for today. Really.”

Monica squeezed her hand. “Anytime. And I expect a full report on Burrow’s reaction.”

“Oh, you’ll get a play-by-play,” Angel teased.

They hugged, said their goodbyes, and Monica slipped out with a wink before Angel merged back into traffic. The drive home was quieter now, the adrenaline of the day settling into a comfortable afterglow.

And with that, Angel pulled away, the sky darkening gently around her as she made her way home—bags in the trunk, music humming low, and her heart full.

She didn’t know it yet, but the fire she’d rediscovered that day wasn’t just about lingerie or a little glam.

It was about coming back to herself. And she was just getting started.

By the time she reached the house, twilight had painted the sky in streaks of lavender and peach. As the garage door slowly lifted, Angel spotted them immediately—Joe standing in the doorway to the house, barefoot and in sweatpants, holding baby Zariyah like she was the crown jewel of his world. And she was.

The soft light caught them just right: Joe with his curls slightly tousled and a boyish smile tugging at his lips, and Zariyah cooing in his arms, one tiny fist tangled in his hoodie strings. It was the kind of image that made Angel’s chest swell.

She parked and climbed out slowly, a smile blooming on her lips before she even reached them.

“There’s my baby girl!” Angel sang, her voice lifting as she rushed to the steps, arms already outstretched.

Zariyah let out a squeal of delight and bounced in Joe’s arms, her little legs kicking with excitement. Angel kissed her soft cheeks over and over, inhaling the sweet scent of baby lotion and formula.

Then, as naturally as breathing, Angel leaned up and pressed her lips to Joe’s. A slow, tender kiss. Nothing dramatic—just long enough to say, I missed you. I’m home.

Joe’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, completely undone by the softness of her mouth and the warmth of her energy.

When they broke apart, he smiled like a man who had just glimpsed heaven.

“I see girls day was a success,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration.

Angel gave him a knowing hum and took Zariyah from his arms, bouncing the baby gently on her hip. “My bank is going to hate me, Joe.”

He laughed, following her toward the car. “How bad are we talking?”

Angel opened the trunk, and Joe’s eyes widened at the sheer number of bags stacked like mini shopping trophies.

“Oh, it’s bad,” she said with mock seriousness.

Joe reached for a couple of them, but Angel stepped in front of him with a playful finger wag. “Uh uh. No peeking, mister. I’ll take them upstairs. You can see everything... later, once Z’s asleep.”

Joe groaned like a man who had just been denied the final play in the red zone. “You’re torturing me.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “And yet you love it.”

He chuckled and relented, stepping back and scooping Zariyah into his arms again. “Alright. But I’m holding you to that promise.”

Angel gave him a sly look as she started her first trip into the house, bags swinging from her arms. “Oh, you’ll get your reward.”

The next twenty minutes turned into a mini workout. Three full trips—first the clothes and accessories, then the new shoes, and finally the very important, very secret lingerie bag, which she tucked discreetly into the corner of the walk-in closet beneath a few jackets.

Joe offered to help again, but she shooed him away each time.

“Consider it part of the suspense,” she teased on her last return to the garage, wiping a sheen of sweat from her brow.

After the final bag had been tucked away—lingerie discreetly hidden beneath a tangle of soft sweaters in the walk-in closet—Angel took a breath and rolled her shoulders. The long day of pampering, laughter, and low-key mischief with Monica had been exactly what she needed. But nothing, not even a girls day full of shopping and spa stops, compared to the warmth that filled her chest the moment she stepped back into the kitchen and saw Joe there, sleeves rolled up, baby monitor on the counter, soft music playing in the background.

The lights above the island cast a cozy glow, and the faint scent of garlic and olive oil mingled in the air as he stirred a sauté pan. Angel padded barefoot across the tile and leaned her hip against the counter, watching her husband in his comfort zone. There was something endlessly attractive about a man who knew his way around fatherhood and a skillet.

When she joined him in the kitchen, Zariyah was back in her bouncer, playing with her soft teething ring, and Joe was pulling out ingredients for dinner.

Angel peeked at the cutting board. “Chef Burrow in the building?”

“I figured you’d be tired,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Thought I’d get started.”

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “And this is why I married you.”

He turned and kissed her forehead. “It’s one of the reasons, right?”

Angel laughed. “Top five. Right after ‘makes good babies’ and ‘puts the toilet seat down.’”

He grinned and handed her a knife. “You can chop the garlic then. Teamwork.”

They worked side-by-side, Zariyah babbling nearby, the scent of sautéed onions and herbs filling the air. It was peaceful in a way that grounded Angel after such a fast-paced day—an anchor back into the safe haven of her little family.

She reached out and plucked a carrot stick from the prep bowl, crunching thoughtfully.

“Was she any trouble?” Angel asked, her tone casual, though her smirk betrayed her.

Joe didn’t even turn around at first, just gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. “She was perfect.”

Angel raised a brow, arms folding as she narrowed her eyes in mock disbelief. “Our daughter? Zariyah Jasmine Burrow? The mini menace didn’t cause a ruckus today?”

Joe finally looked over his shoulder, grinning like a man who’d been caught mid-lie. “No ruckus. I swear.”

“Mmhmm,” Angel said, inching closer, leaning into the doubt like a well-worn inside joke. “So she didn’t scream like a banshee when her pacifier fell out?”

“She… voiced her displeasure a little,” Joe admitted with a laugh.

“And you didn’t have to play ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ on repeat while holding her like Simba to calm her down?”

“She just likes when I freestyle. I may or may not have invented a remix,” Joe replied, lifting a wooden spoon like a microphone. “Zariyah's got taste.”

Angel rolled her eyes and walked over to the other side of the counter, grabbing a cutting board and a knife. “So what I’m hearing is, chaos did in fact occur, but you handled it like a champ.”

He reached out and bumped her hip affectionately. “You trained me well.”

Together, they fell into the kind of rhythm only two people who truly knew each other could share—chopping, stirring, moving around each other like a pair of dancers in slow motion. There were soft touches and whispered jokes, a low hum of domestic ease layered beneath the music.

Angel sliced zucchini while Joe grilled seasoned chicken breasts. Occasionally, one of them would glance toward the monitor where Zariyah slept peacefully, tiny fists curled near her cheeks.

“Did she at least nap for you?” Angel asked, turning to place the chopped vegetables into a bowl.

“Twice,” Joe said proudly. “One long one after lunch and a shorter one while I watched film.”

Angel gave him a sidelong glance. “Did you hold her the whole time?”

Joe shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “She naps longer when I do.”

Angel paused, her heart giving a little tug at the sweetness of it all. Joe was many things on the field—strategic, composed, precise—but at home, he was just Zariyah’s dad. Soft, silly, patient. It was the version of him she’d fallen in love with long before Super Bowls and media days.

“Sometimes I think she’s just pretending to be difficult with me,” Angel muttered as she sprinkled sea salt over the salad.

Joe looked up. “She’s playing the long game. You’re the boss. She’s trying to stage a slow coup.”

Angel laughed so loudly it startled the monitor for a second. She walked over and leaned against his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Thanks for today, seriously. I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

Joe placed his hand over hers and kissed her knuckles. “You give everything to her. You deserve time for yourself, too. I got it handled. Mostly.”

“Mostly,” Angel echoed, pressing her forehead to his back. “I can live with that.”

The oven timer dinged and they broke apart, plating their meal in comfortable silence. Angel poured them both glasses of sparkling lemonade and took a seat at the island while Joe served dinner.

They ate side by side, shoulders touching occasionally, laughter flowing just as easily as the conversation. It was a simple dinner—grilled lemon chicken, roasted vegetables, quinoa—but it felt luxurious in the way quiet, uninterrupted time often does.

Angel speared a piece of zucchini. “You know, after all that shopping, I didn’t even show you what I got.”

Joe raised a brow. “Not even a sneak peek?”

“Later,” Angel said with a grin. “Once Zariyah’s officially down for the night.”

Joe exhaled like the anticipation was a physical weight. “You’re killing me.”

Angel sipped her drink, eyes sparkling. “That’s the plan.”

They cleared the dishes together, trading jokes about whose turn it was to do the drying (“You’re taller, you reach the top cabinets faster,” Angel insisted) before heading upstairs for bedtime duty.

The last light of day had long faded, replaced by the hush of night blanketing the Burrow home. Down the hall, a soft lullaby played faintly through the baby monitor, and the comforting scent of lavender from Zariyah’s nighttime bath still lingered in the air.

Angel stood quietly beside the crib, gazing down at their daughter. Zariyah was deep in slumber now, arms stretched above her head in that carefree way only babies seemed to sleep. Her long lashes fluttered occasionally, lips gently parted around the edge of her pacifier.

Joe stood a step behind Angel, hands in his pockets, watching them both with quiet reverence.

“She looks like you when she sleeps,” he murmured, voice low to keep from disturbing the peace.

Angel smiled but kept her eyes on their baby. “You say that every night.”

“And I’ll keep saying it,” he replied, gently placing a hand on the small of her back.

She finally turned to face him, the corners of her mouth curving up as she slipped her hand into his. “Come on, Burrow,” she said, her tone lighter now, teasing. “Your personal show awaits.”

Joe let out a breath of a laugh, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well, when you put it like that...”

Angel led him out of the nursery and down the hall, their footsteps soft against the hallway runner. The house had gone still around them, quiet and dim, the kind of intimate silence that only settled in when the baby was finally down for the night and the grown-ups could reclaim just a little of their own world.

When they reached their bedroom, Angel pushed the door open gently and flicked on the low amber lights from the bedside sconces. The room glowed warmly—cozy, familiar, and tinged with anticipation.

Joe was already tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt when she turned to him with a raised brow. “Ah ah—no moving yet. Sit,” she said with mock authority, pointing to the edge of the bed.

With a soft chuckle and a playful salute, Joe obeyed, sitting down and resting his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving her.

Angel crossed the room and disappeared into their walk-in closet. “No peeking,” she called behind her.

“Not even a little?” Joe teased, leaning to the side like he could catch a glimpse past the door frame.

“Be patient,” she said, her voice floating out with a light laugh.

Inside the closet, Angel took a steadying breath. The shopping bags were exactly where she’d left them earlier—lined up by brand, carefully tucked away like little secrets. She pulled them out one by one, gathering the first few items: a structured blazer in crisp cream with gold buttons, a silky olive green wrap dress that hugged in all the right places, and a pair of wide-leg pants in soft mocha. Then came the shoes: nude stilettos, snakeskin booties, and a pair of strappy black sandals she’d fallen in love with at first sight.

The first look was sleek and sophisticated—a cream-colored blazer that hugged her waist and accentuated the gentle curve of her hips. Underneath, she wore nothing but a delicate satin camisole in soft beige, tucked into wide-leg mocha trousers that draped effortlessly to her ankles. On her feet were the snakeskin booties she’d fallen in love with earlier at the mall.

“Okay, businesswoman vibes,” Joe said, nodding in appreciation. “Are you about to fire me or promote me?”

Angel smirked, giving him a slow twirl. “Depends on how well you behave.”

“You look like a whole CEO,” he said, leaning back with a grin. “CEO of taking my breath away.”

Angel rolled her eyes playfully and disappeared into the closet again.

The next time she came out, the vibe had completely changed.

Gone was the structured look—now she was soft and sultry in a silky olive-green wrap dress that clung to her like it was tailored just for her. The thigh slit danced with every step she took, and she paired it with black strappy heels that gave her walk a subtle sway.

Joe’s eyes darkened slightly, his jaw ticking as he watched her cross the room.

“Okay, now that’s date night,” he murmured. “No way you’re wearing that in public.”

Angel cocked a brow. “Possessive already?”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “Have you seen you?”

She paused just in front of him, hands on her hips. “Well, I did buy it with you in mind.”

Joe’s lips twitched. “I knew I married a genius.”

She gave him a quick wink, then retreated once more into the closet. Each outfit that followed painted a new mood—elegant, playful, bold. A slinky black jumpsuit with a deep neckline. A ruched burgundy midi dress that made Joe audibly groan. A cozy off-shoulder sweater dress paired with suede boots that made him smile in a different way, like he could already picture her curled up on the couch with Zariyah on her lap.

When she finally stepped out again, it wasn’t just clothes in her arms—it was a tiny shoebox and a smaller gift bag.

“Alright, now for the really important things,” Angel said.

“These,” she said, walking over to the bed, “are for my favorite humans.”

Joe perked up. “We’re getting to the good stuff now?”

She opened the box first and pulled out a pair of baby pink sneakers, no bigger than the palm of her hand and held them up. Joe’s face softened instantly.

“For Z,” she said. “You know... so she can start her sneakerhead journey early.”

Joe’s face lit up. “No way. Little Z got new kicks?”

“She had to,” Angel said, shaking her head like it was obvious. “The child has my face and your feet. She deserves good shoes.”

“And what about me?” Joe asked, trying to peek into another bag. “Did I get anything, or is this just ladies’ day all the way?”

Angel fished out a box and tossed it to him gently. “Try not to cry.”

Joe opened it and pulled out a navy blue hoodie embroidered with “#GirlDad” in cursive across the chest. He blinked, clearly touched.

“You like it?” Angel asked, suddenly a little shy.

“Babe... this is perfect.”

“I figured you earned it. You survived a full day with the mini menace.”

“I love it,” he said, voice low. “You have no idea. Thank you.”

He reached for her hand, tugging her gently toward him. “I’d survive anything for you two.”

Angel let him pull her closer, her knee pressing lightly into the bed between his legs. He kissed the back of her hand slowly, deliberately, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

She smiled, brushing her free hand through his hair. “You’re sweet.”

She melted against his chest, letting herself linger there for a few quiet seconds. His scent, the low thrum of his voice, the steadiness of his arms—it all wrapped around her like safety.

Joe leaned back just slightly, head tilted. “So... I noticed you’ve been dancing around one particular bag.”

Angel raised a brow, feigning innocence. “What bag?���

He gestured toward the closet. “There’s one left, I counted how many you had. The one you won’t let me touch.”

“Oh,” she said casually. “That’s for later.”

Joe groaned dramatically, falling back onto the bed. “You’re killing me, Angel.”

She leaned over him, placing a quick kiss on his lips. “It’s called suspense. Builds character.”

As she stood again, Joe reached up and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her there for a moment.

“I don’t care what’s in the bag,” he murmured against her stomach. “You showing up in this room, smiling like that... that’s already everything.”

Angel ran her fingers gently through his curls, heart swelling at the quiet affection in his voice. She knew Joe was a man of precision on the field, but off it, he loved with the kind of depth that left her breathless. He made her feel like she was the center of his gravity—even after months of late-night feeds and spit-up and sleep deprivation.

But then she pulled back with a sly grin.

She stepped back slowly, a twinkle in her eye. “Well, just wait until you do see what’s in the bag.” Now walking backward toward the closet like a woman with a plan. 

Joe sat up, raising a brow. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Angel winked. “Why not both? But I’m gonna need five minutes and zero interruptions.”

“I will sit here and suffer in silence,” he promised, already adjusting the pillows behind him.

Angel laughed as she vanished into the closet again, the door clicking softly behind her.

Inside the closet, Angel closed the door softly behind her and exhaled slowly. Her heart pounded—not from nerves, exactly, but from a bubbling excitement that she hadn’t felt in a while. Not since before Zariyah. Before round-the-clock feedings, sleepless nights, and the wonderful chaos of new motherhood.

This was for her just as much as it was for him.

She pulled the first set from the sleek black bag—the deep ruby red lace that Monica had all but demanded she try on. It was delicate but daring, the sheer bodice cut high on the hips, leaving very little to the imagination. She adjusted the straps, ran a hand down her hip, and glanced at herself in the mirror.

Angel’s reflection stared back—a woman who was still learning to feel at home in her post-baby body, but tonight? Tonight she looked like herself again.

And she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Ready?” she called out.

Joe’s voice came back low and eager. “Always.”

She cracked the closet door and stepped out, slowly, deliberately—one hand resting on the frame, the other on her hip.

Joe looked up. And blinked.

He didn’t move at first. Just stared, eyes locked on her like she’d frozen time.

The deep red popped against her smooth skin, the soft lighting catching the intricate lace as she stepped forward with quiet confidence.

“Oh... my God,” Joe breathed, sitting up straighter. “Angel.”

She stopped in front of him, one brow raised. “Too much?”

“Too perfect,” he said instantly. His eyes swept over her with reverence, not hunger—though that simmered just beneath the surface. “You’re unreal.”

She gave him a slow turn, the curve of her back on full display, and heard the breath he sucked in through his teeth.

“You’re trying to kill me tonight, huh?” he said, voice lower now.

Angel gave a playful shrug. “Maybe a little.”

She disappeared back into the closet before he could reach for her, laughing under her breath as she leaned against the door to catch her breath. That reaction? That was exactly what Monica had meant by “bringing the fire back.”

The next set was softer—blush pink mesh with satin cups and tiny floral embroidery, delicate and ethereal. She paired it with a silk robe, barely tied.

When she stepped out again, Joe’s mouth opened slightly—but no words came out at first.

“Okay,” he said finally, blinking twice. “This one’s... dangerous in a different way.”

Angel tilted her head. “Different how?”

“You look like you’re about to climb into my lap and steal my soul,” he replied, utterly serious.

She laughed—a warm, full sound that made his chest ache.

“Maybe I will,” she said, brushing past him so closely he could smell the faint sweetness of her perfume.

Joe groaned, flopping back on the bed with his arm over his face. “I’m in so much trouble.”

When she returned a few minutes later, he heard the soft click of heels before he saw her. This time, the look was bolder—jet black lace, sheer panels, crisscross straps across her midsection, and thigh-highs with garters. The kind of ensemble that made Angel feel like a superwoman in her own skin.

Joe sat up before she even reached the foot of the bed, his gaze sharp but reverent.

“Okay, stop,” he said, running both hands through his curls. “That one? That one should be illegal.”

Angel smirked, hands on her hips again. “You’re just saying that because I saved it for last.”

“I’m saying it because if I blink, I’m going to miss the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice was sincere now—deeper. Slower.

She walked up to him, and this time, she let him reach for her.

He sat there on the edge of the bed, hands out, but unsure of where he wanted to touch her first. This woman? This beautiful heart-stopping and smart woman was his wife. Joe began thanking every God he could think of for even letting him be in her presence.

Angel smiled up at him, stepping between his knees. “Still think I’m trying to kill you?”

Then Joe traced his hand along her side—slow, deliberate. He began toying with one of the crisscrossing straps, letting his fingers dance along the top edge of her stockings before sliding a finger under the delicate lace edge of her underwear. He let it snap back against her skin with a soft thwack.

If she could tease him and get him so fired up like this… he could do the same thing too.

“Maybe you’re not trying to kill me,” Joe murmured, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of both her underwear and those black thigh-highs, slowly pulling them down, “but if I have to keep watching you like this and not touching you? It just might.”

Angel stepped out of the fabric pool at her feet, still in the lace bralette, the matching garter still holding up her stockings. She leaned down until they were eye to eye. “Touching me is the whole point,” she whispered against his lips. “Just say the word, and I’m yours.”

He swallowed thickly, pulling her into his lap.  She could feel just how much he wanted this through his sweatpants. Angel smirked, but he was quicker, stealing another kiss before she could speak.

“Mine, huh?” Joe said, pulling back just enough to make sure she was looking at him. In his eyes, dark with need. “Then I want it all.”

His hands found their way under the garters, around the back of her thighs until he gripped her bare ass. She gasped, and he kissed her again—harder this time, his teeth catching her bottom lip.

Angel pulled back, breathless. “All of what?”

Joe smiled—a slow, wicked smile that made her stomach flutter. “All of you. I want every inch. I want to be everywhere you are. I want you so far gone that you can’t remember your own name, Angel.” His lips brushed hers with each word. “I want you to forget your own name so you can remember mine.”

Angel bit her lip, pulling herself up from his hold. She stood over him, a sly smile on her face at what she saw—his eyes a darker shade of indigo blue, his face flushed, his entire body taut with restraint, the unmistakable outline of his cock straining against his sweats.

He watched her every move—his eyes trailed over her body from bottom to top, the heat in his gaze a palpable thing. Angel could feel the hunger in every deliberate breath he took, in the way his fingers curled and uncurled at his sides. As if he were still deciding exactly where he wanted to put them.

She gave a little spin, letting him see the rest of the ensemble, the way the lace cradled her backside, the delicate straps that cut across the small of her back and the top of her ass.

Joe groaned before reaching out for her, only for Angel to take another step back. He looked up at her, eyes burning.

“Don’t just stand there,” Joe said, his voice a low rasp. “Come here and let me taste.”

Angel smirked again, stepping closer until she was between his knees again, and leaned down to kiss him. “What exactly do you want to taste?”

Joe smirked back against her lips. “You.”

“Hmm. You’ll have to show me what you mean,” she said, and she felt him smile against her lips.

“With pleasure,” he murmured.

He kissed her again, hard and deep, and Angel could feel herself getting wet from the way he moved, the way he took what he wanted. His lips were firm, insistent, his tongue tangling with hers as his hands found the hooks on her bra.

He broke the kiss, eyes dark and burning when he looked up at her again.

“I’m gonna take this off,” Joe said, already working at the hooks. “And then I’m gonna kiss every inch of you, starting here—” His lips brushed the space between her breasts. “And working my way down.”

Angel shivered. “Yeah? What happens when you get down to the bottom?”

“I’m gonna make you come apart on my tongue,” he whispered, lips brushing hers again.

She moaned against him, and Joe smiled against her lips. “And I’m not going to stop until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Angel said, breathless.

“It’s worth it,” Joe replied, “to see you like this. To remind you who you are.”

Angel swallowed, eyes searching his face.

“Who am I?” she asked, voice soft. Uncertain.

Joe reached up, cupped her face in his hands. “You’re mine.” He kissed her. “You’re my wife.”

Another kiss. “You’re a mother.”

Another kiss. “But right now? Right now, you’re just Angel.”

She kissed him this time, pulling him closer, her fingers curling in his hair, her entire body surging forward to meet his.

“And I want all of you,” Joe continued, pulling back just long enough to speak against her lips. “The good, the bad, the messy, the beautiful.”

Angel could feel tears welling up in her eyes—tears of relief, of need. “I want all of you, too.”

He kissed her hard again, and this time there was no restraint. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the delicate lace before he reached for the hooks again.

He broke the kiss only long enough to pull the bralette off—and then he was pulling her down to him again, his mouth on her breast, tongue swirling over one peak and then the other, the wet heat of his mouth making her ache with want. His fingers found her other breast, rolling the peak between his thumb and forefinger until Angel was breathless and gasping.

He pulled her into his lap again, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to mask the heat of his cock as she straddled him. Angel rocked against him, slowly at first, but Joe’s hands were everywhere all at once—her breasts, her back, her ass, the lace straps of her garters, the wetness between her thighs.

“Joe,” she breathed, the ache building. “God, Joe.”

He sat up abruptly, lifting her with him. Angel wrapped her legs around him, her arms around his neck as he carried her the few steps to the wall.

Joe pressed her against it, pinning her hips there with his own, and his mouth found hers again. Angel pulled at his sweatshirt, yanking it over his head before her hands found his shoulders, his chest, her nails digging into his skin.

He groaned against her, his fingers dipping into the wetness between her legs, finding her clit with unerring accuracy. 

Angel gasped, her back arching against the wall. His fingers worked in slow circles at first, his tongue following the same rhythm against her own, until she was gasping his name, her hips moving to meet him.

Joe pulled back just enough to speak, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts against her lips. “Is this what you want?” He pressed his fingers against her again, this time letting two slide inside of her. She was so wet, so ready.

“Yes,” Angel breathed. “Yes—God, yes—”

Joe’s fingers curled, pressing against that spot that made her vision blur, made her see stars. Angel whimpered, her entire body tightening. She was close. So close.

Then his fingers were gone.

Angel gasped, blinked down at him in confusion. “Joe—”

“Not yet,” he murmured against her neck, pressing kisses against her skin. “Not until I taste you.”

Before she could say anything else, he lifted her again, carrying her to the bed. She lay back against the sheets as he hooked his fingers in the sides of her stockings, pulling them down slowly.

His fingers traced the path the stockings had taken until they reached her center again. She was still wet—still ready for him.

He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other. His tongue traced the outline of her, slowly, carefully—learning every curve, every dip, every fold. Angel’s fingers curled into the sheets when his tongue finally, finally met her clit.

“Joe—” she gasped.

He hummed against her, the vibration sending shockwaves through her entire body.

“Joe—yes, please—”

His tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles, never breaking contact as Angel’s breath came in sharp gasps. He could feel her shaking beneath him, the muscles in her thighs trembling with restraint.

“Shit, I’m so close—”

He hummed against her again, slid one finger and then another inside of her, curling them forward until she cried out. Angel’s entire body tightened, her back arching off the bed as she came on his tongue.

Joe didn’t stop.

His tongue kept moving, his fingers curled inside of her until he felt her start to shake again, her voice breathy and urgent now.

“Joe—I can’t—oh my God—”

He pulled back, his voice low. “You can. And you will.”

And before she could answer, his mouth found her clit again, his fingers working in time. Angel couldn’t form a single thought—just felt the slow, steady climb toward that edge again.

“Joe, Joe, JOE—” she cried out, her entire body shuddering with the force of her release.

She lay back against the pillows, boneless and breathless, watching through half-lidded eyes as Joe stood and pushed his sweats down.

Angel bit her lip at the sight of him—hard and thick and ready for her.

She reached for him, but he shook his head, kneeling on the bed again.

“Not yet,” Joe said, pressing a kiss to her lips, letting her taste herself on him. “I’m not done with you.”

Angel groaned. “Joe, please—”

He kissed her again. “Please what? You have to use your words, Angel.”

“I need you,” she said, reaching for him again. This time, he let her—let her fingers wrap around him, let her pump him slowly until his hips were moving with her.

He pulled her hand away with a growl.

“Need me to do what?” Joe asked, reaching down to trace her lips, Angel's mouth opening and sucking around Joe's fingers. He pulled them away slowly before he could lose control, before he gave her what they both wanted. “Tell me what you want.”

Her voice was a whisper, a low, needy sound that made him ache. “I need you to fuck me.”

He shuddered, his restraint slipping. “How do you want it?”

She pulled him down to her, kissing him deeply. When she spoke again, it was a breathless whisper against his lips.

“I want you on top of me. I want to feel you everywhere. I want you to remind me how much you love me.”

Joe groaned and captured her mouth with his again, kissing her deeply as he positioned himself between her legs.

He pushed into her in one smooth motion, and they both gasped—Angel at the feeling of fullness, of completion, and Joe at the feel of her tight, wet heat around him.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Joe’s hips moved in slow, deep thrusts at first, savoring every second, every shiver that ran through Angel’s body beneath him. He wanted to make this last, wanted to make it good for her.

But the way she felt around him—the way her back arched, her body opened for him—he couldn’t hold back. Not when he was already on the edge, not when he could feel his own release building.

Joe’s thrusts grew harder, faster, his lips finding hers again in a searing kiss. Angel met him with the same urgency, her hips rising to meet his, her voice a steady stream of breathless pleas.

Her nails dug into his back, his shoulders, the pain and pleasure merging into one overwhelming wave.

“Angel—” Joe breathed. “Angel, I—”

She pulled back just long enough to look at him, her eyes locked on his.

“Don’t stop,” she said. “Don’t stop.”

“I can’t,” he ground out. “I can’t stop.”

 His hips were moving of their own accord now, driven by a need he couldn’t control. “Angel—”

“Yes,” she breathed, her own release building again. “Yes, Joe—”

"Fuck baby, squeezing me so good." Joe groaned. Angel could feel him getting closer, could feel him thickening inside of her.

Joe grabbed her leg pulling it to his shoulder. Angel moaned louder, feeling Joe go deeper. Her hands gripped his arms, her nails dug deeper into his skin as he pounded into her.

“I love you,” he managed, his voice strained. “Angel—I love you—”

“I love you, too,” she cried out, her voice breaking. “Joe—Joe, please—”

"Come on baby, let me feel you." Joe said as he brought his hand down to rub tight circles on her clit. "Cum for me baby, you can do it. Give it to me." He thrust harder.

Angel's entire body tensed, every muscle straining toward that release. Joe could feel it building inside of her—the heat, the pressure, the need.

“Please, please—Joe—”

Then suddenly, she was falling over that edge, her body shaking with the force of it. Angel cried out his name again and again as her body spasmed around him, pulling him over the edge with her. Joe groaned, his hips losing their rhythm as he pulsed inside of her, filling her completely. He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath hot and ragged against her lips, his body trembling with the intensity of his release. Angel wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as they both rode out the last waves of pleasure.

She kissed him again, slowly this time, her lips moving gently against his. Joe sighed against her mouth, his own lips responding lazily as he came down from his high.

They lay there for a moment, breathless, Joe’s face buried in the curve of her neck.

Angel was the first to move, pressing soft kisses along his jaw, his cheek, until he looked up at her. She brushed his curls back, smiling softly.

“Hi,” she said.

Joe smiled back, kissing her softly. “Hi.”

“Thank you,” she said.

He shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. “Don’t thank me. I should be thanking you.”

“I know you did this for me,” he murmured, “but I hope you felt it, too.”

Angel’s breath caught.

“I did,” she whispered, her fingers threading through his curls. “I needed to remember that I can still feel like... me. Like a woman. Not just ‘mommy.’”

Joe pulled her closer, resting his forehead against her chest. “You’ve never stopped being you, Angel. You’ve only added more layers of amazing.”

She smiled gently, carding her fingers through his hair as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was the most precious thing in his world—which, to him, she was.

After a long beat, he looked up, eyes twinkling.

“So… which one are you wearing when we don’t have a sleeping baby down the hall?”

Angel laughed, low and warm. “That depends. Are you planning to behave?”

Joe stood and swept her effortlessly off her feet, cradling her against his chest as she gasped and looped her arms around his neck.

“No,” he said without hesitation, carrying her to the shower. “Not even a little.”

[boyfiejay]

I love my girlfriend

PAIRING : Enhypen hyung line x female Youtuber! Reader

GENRE : fluff, bullet point

Warning : curse words, me rizzing up the reader😔

Word Count : 0.9k overall

Author's Note : this was long overdue☝🏻

Heeseung ☆

you're one of those underrated artists, that are underrated due to one sole reason

it's better to gatekeep a talented artist

yk the way some fans get sad that their favourites are now on everyone's fyp

yeah your fandom in a nutshell

they also thirst over you non stop

I mean you are stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, enchanting

just date me pookie

you used to be a youtuber before the music career fyi

imagine your fans' dilemma (dimension?) when you say out of nowhere that you have a bf

‘guys, my boyfriend sent me this :D’

and it's a silly picture of two cats or smtg

like your fans are fighting a fucking war on twt

and you are like cuddling with hee, listening to unreleased songs

you have no clue of what's going on

meanwhile heeseung…

he's ready to fight the war

posts a picture of you kissing his cheek on your insta story

he makes sure that only 1/4th of his face is visible

to keep his identity anonymous yk

…

your fans find his acc in 15 mins

he panics definitely 😭

tells you his innuendo after you wake up

and you're just like

‘yeah ok, sure’

WHY ARE YOU SO CHILL??

your boyfriend is getting deep fried on twt and you're like ‘el oh el’

dw your fans mean no harm

after a while they're like

‘they're cute tgt ig 😒’

Jay ☆

you're like a cooking channel

STAY W ME IK IT SOUNDS BASIC

you're like a blogger who blew up one day

because you're just soso pretty😻

alright anyways, your channel is focused around learning to cook

it's so chaotic sometimes

bcz you don't know shit about cooking

sorry if you do, let's pretend you don't >.<!!

you have almost killed yourself a dozen times

at some point people are like

‘??? how is she alive’

all thanks to your almost professional chef boyfriend

but no one has to know that ;)

anyways on like a milestone or something, you decide to cook blindfolded

bae you can barely cook with eyes open

your followers are concerned bro

like their blood pressure is rising by the minute

and like a holy light in the midst of the darkness

Jay stepped in, to save you from killing yourself fr this time

Your fans are seriously jumping around, squealing bcz he's just so soft and gentle to you :(((

but then they snap out and pretend to be angry

and you're like ‘meet my boyfie :3’

jk your fans love you two

like almost obsessed

also they're always sliding in Jay's dms

like I get it mans fine af but he's also taken

and also absolutely whipped for you 🤭

it's your world and we're just living in it…

Jake ☆

you are a gamer/streamer

your whole fan base is delusional

like so delusional, there are like hundreds and thousands of accounts claiming to be your bf/gf

but the iconic one ‘ynsboyfie’ is everywhere

like that acc is the most iconic thing in your lore

they are always there, no news of yours goes past them

always donating in your streams

and one day…

you forget to log in your priv acc

so your official acc has the comment

‘babe, you're so sweet ☹️🩷’

replying to ‘YNSBOYFIE’

???

oh your fans are livid

jokingly ofc

or maybe not

everyone on twt is like

‘who is this bitch???’

everyone hoping for his downfall

then you drop his pic

THE SWITCH UP IS INSANE

‘oh, oh, he's fiiine😏’

like I can't blame them, that's jake

but still they're supposed to be your fans

fucking snitches

my bae, pookum shmookum I would never

your fans love him

but also bully him calling him a lewser

hes so down bad he had a fan page for you

i dont blame him, i too would fangirl over you 😼

Sunghoon ☆

you're like a fitness channel

like those ones that have insane challenges

and your famous in people who have no interest in working out too

your face reveal went so viral, almost every single person knew your face

also your workouts (even tho deadly) always work so fast

people are in love with your figure and just you in general

you also upload mini vlogs once in a while

in these vlogs people noticed someone always being around you and in the back of the frame

at first they were like

‘obsessed fan😨’

but then they saw you laughing along with him in another clip

from the small clips, people couldn't see his face (bcz it's blurred) but omg the figure

the biceps, the buff and tall guy immediately steals everyone hearts

it's obvious from the clips that you're close with him

so naturally you are asked who he is and you just laugh

???

people are losing their minds woman

and you're just like ‘hehe’

they continue seeing him in your vlogs and in one clip you could see him putting his hands on your waist while you squat

you have no reaction to that

but twt…

he's getting dragged even though half of the people have no clue what's going on

you decide to take matter in your hands

and post this

with the caption ‘he's my boyfriend everyone :3’

the internet breaks

Sunghoon doesn't do his face reveal for a long time js bcz he doesn't feel like it yk

but when he does

good lord…

your fans love him

they also love how he glares at people who look at you the wrong way

you never notice that for some reason

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia comes home from work

Alexia comes in from a long day of coaching to find carnage in the house but no more than usual.

Jaume's muddy football boots are scattered in the entrance hall along with his school bag and his training bag. His jacket is thrown callously on the ground and she can just make out the dishes he hasn't cleaned up from his afternoon snack on the kitchen counters.

Her son is found in the living room, whirred into a game of FIFA and talking into his headset to his friends.

Your own ballet bag sits at the bottom of the stairs and Alexia can hear rhythmic thumping from your bedroom. She pops the door open and throws your bag onto the bed.

You're sitting at your desk, breaking in your pointe shoe by thwacking it against the corner of your study space. You're attacking the shank of your shoe viciously while your other one lays perfectly broken in next to you.

You've raided the sewing box too, a needle already threaded so you can sew on your ribbons as soon as you're done breaking in your second shoe.

"Did that one do something to you?" Alexia says and you jolt in shock, not having realised she came in.

"Yeah," You reply with a wry smile," It didn't come broken in." You whack it one final time against your desk and test its flexibility, finally content and get to work sewing your ribbons onto the shoes.

"You left your bag by the stairs," Alexia says and you roll your eyes.

"Jaume left his stuff all over the house," You reply," He's so messy."

"He's a boy. Boys are messy."

"Have you made him clean it up yet?"

"I'm letting him finish his FIFA match. It might embarrass him in front of his friends."

You roll your eyes again, tying off your first ribbons before moving onto the second. "They're so annoying."

"They're hormonal," Alexia replies. She takes your other shoe and starts sewing a set of ribbons on. "They'll grow out of it."

"Can they grow out of it now?" You mutter," I'm sick of them watching me."

Alexia freezes, like a pail of icy water has been thrown on top of her. Her mouth goes dry. "What?"

You give her a look. "Huh?"

"What do you mean they're watching you?"

You shrug. "I don't know. They're hormonal boys. I'm Jaume's older sister." You wrinkle your nose. "They say gross things sometimes. It's not a big deal."

Alexia hates that aspect of you. You're so resigned to the concept that it is what it is. You had problems like this when you were younger too, merely accepting bullying and rude words at you because you didn't think it would matter if you tried to fight it.

It's something that Alexia's never managed to snap you out of but she never thought that she would see it in a situation like this.

"What kinds of things?"

You frown at her. "I thought you knew."

"No! Is that why you didn't tell me?"

You shrug. "I thought if you were fine with it happening then I should be fine with it happening."

"No...Bambi...You should never think that those kinds of things are okay. They're not and if it happens again, you come to me right away."

You nod, not fully convinced. "Okay, Mami."

"Hey," She says," Put on your shoes. We're overdue a catch up."

Alexia's busy coaching at Barcelona most days. She's almost always working but she tries to find the time for you and Jaume both together and alone. It used to be a tradition that she would take you out once a week by yourself to 'catch up' but work has been so busy these past few weeks so you're long overdue some one-on-one time together.

"I'm sewing my ribbons!" You complain and Alexia fondly ruffles your hair.

"And you can take a break. You've just come from a full day of dancing. Go put on comfortable shoes. You can sew your ribbons tonight."

You huff but do what you're told.

Alexia goes back downstairs, switching the tv off.

"Mami!" Jaume complains, pulling down his headset," I was in the middle of a match!"

She gives him a pointed look. "And your stuff is in the middle of my house."

"I'll pick it up later."

"You'll pick it up now," Alexia says," This isn't your room, Jaume. I like my house to be tidy."

He huffs and moves to get up.

"And tell your friends to stop saying foul things to your sister."

He freezes, every muscle in his body going rigid and stiff. "What?"

"I know what teenage boys are like, Jaume, and I understand peer pressure and not saying anything so you can fit in but this isn't school. Your sister deserves to come home and feel safe."

"It...It was just jokes, Mami."

"Was it? You may think they were joking but were they actually?"

Jaume's face grows a little confused. "But they had to be! There's...There's no way they'd come to our house and...and say those things to her and actually mean them! Right? Mami, right?"

"Jaume..." Alexia sighs. It's clear to her now that Jaume genuinely had no idea that his friends could actually mean what they said. Alexia takes some comfort in knowing that, at least, Jaume hadn't done this out of spite or any other malicious feeling towards you. "Even if they were jokes, your sister doesn't need to be made fun of in her own house. If you let them get away with stuff now then they're just going to keep building and building and building on it until it's too late to stop them."

"Mami..." Jaume looks heartbroken now, glancing up the stairs where he knows you're doing something in your room. "They...She...Is she okay?"

"I'm taking your sister out," Alexia says," She's had a long day at practice and she needs some time to decompress, okay? Can I trust you to clean up your stuff and get started on your homework?"

He nods.

"Good boy." Alexia kisses his forehead. "Your Mama should be home soon. No tv until your work is done."

"Okay, Mami."

Jaume sits himself at the kitchen table, going through a mind-numbingly boring Physics worksheet when you come down.

"Ready to go?" Alexia asks and you nod.

"Hey, wait!" Jaume calls out and you stop, turning to look at you. "I love you."

You frown in confusion. "I love you too."

"Good," He says," I mean, it's good that you know that I love you." He nods several times and a small bubble of laughter erupts from you.

Jaume grins like he just won the lottery and Alexia trusts in her son to lay down the law with his friends.

She guides you out the door and to the car, driving down to some quaint café that's opened up nearby.

"A milkshake?" Alexia offers after you've found a table," I heard from Mapi that they do those big monster ones with a cupcake stabbed through the straw."

"Mami," You admonish," I still have dance tomorrow."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You're right. It's probably too big for one each. We can share."

"Mami!" You laugh," I'm trying to stay healthy. The Spring Season starts soon. We have performances to do."

Alexia reaches over to pinch your cheek and you roll your eyes. "Well, I'm your Mami and I say it's okay. You know, I'm quite wise."

"Fine," You say," But if we're getting a milkshake then let's get the red velvet one."

"Whatever you want, bambi."

Alexia orders some cupcakes and a cookie with it and rolls her eyes as you mock complain with no actual annoyance in your tone.

"Now," She says," I've spoken to your brother and he's going to sort his friends out or else."

You roll your eyes, poking at your food. "It's fine. I can deal with it."

"You shouldn't have to deal with it." Alexia reaches across the table for your hand. "Boys will be boys but that doesn't mean they should be saying those things to you. I...I just...Bambi why didn't you tell me?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes darting to the side.

"Bambi," Alexia says again," Come on. You can tell me things, you know that, right?"

You nod. "I just...I was worried that I was being silly. That..." You shrug. "You know, you would think I was overreacting. It shouldn't bother me as much as it is. They're just stupid boys."

"Boys are always stupid," Alexia says decisively," And I don't think you're overreacting. It's going to be sorted out. If Jaume doesn't then I will."

She speaks so firmly that you can't help but agree, saved from replying by your mouth full of cake.

You still look a little awkward talking about it though so Alexia pivots the conversation away.

"So," She asks," What ballet is it this season?"

You're not usually talkative about the ballets you're practising, preferring it to be a surprise when you gift the family tickets to opening night but with the season approaching, you don't mind as much.

"First half of the season is La Sylphide," You say, sipping on the straw of the milkshake," Second half is Giselle."

Those words mean nothing to Alexia but you look excited so she decides to be excited for you.

Your cheeks go a little red and you pick at your cake. "Actually...I...er..."

"Is something wrong?"

"No...I...Do you remember when I told you that a few of our soloists got injured?"

Alexia racks her brain. "I think so. You said it was after the Nutcracker performances, right?"

You nod. "Well, they're still not back and the balletmaster decided to start doing understudies in case of injuries and sickness."

Alexia nods along. It's a smart choice, like rotating the players in a team.

You don't look at her, staring down at your plate.

"They're guaranteed one night though, you know, as the lead."

"Okay?"

"Mami, I'm playing Giselle."

Alexia chokes. "What?"

You finally look up at her. "I'm playing the lead, Mami."

"I..." Alexia whips out her phone. "What day is it? I need to check I'm not busy. No, I'll rearrange my meetings if I am. Oh, we'll have to call your Abuela and your Tia. Oh! And Mapi too! Jenni, as well." She starts typing away at her phone. "Wait, let me just text Olga. We'll have to get Jaume a proper outfit if you're going to play lead. And-"

"Mami," You cut her off though your voice is soft and quiet," It's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?!" Alexia scoffs," You're seventeen years old, playing the lead in a professional ballet company! How could you keep this a secret?! Oh, bambi, we have to sort out tickets. What day did you say it was?"

You laugh. "I didn't, Mami."

Alexia crams the rest of her cake into her mouth. "We have to get home. We have to tell Jaume and Olga!" She looks at you for a moment. "So grown up! My little baby, playing the lead!"

You slouch in your seat. "Mami, calm down. It's for one night. People are staring."

"Up! Up!" Alexia insists," Come on! What do you want for dinner?"

"Mami-"

"You choose. Anything! Anything you want!"

"Mami-"

"What about that fancy place near Alba's house? I think I can get us a reservation."

"Mami!"

"Sorry, bambi. What did you want?"

"Can I just have a hug?"

Alexia pulls you into a hug, cradling the back of your head with her hand. "You make me so proud, bambi. I love you so much."

[lemotmo]

Love

Q. I have such whiplash from the last few days. Free them please.

A. It's been a lot, lol. I'm going to kind of PR nerd brain out for a minute because these last two days specifically have been super interesting. Oliver and Ryan have clearly both been told to stick to their canned answers for the most part, but have also clearly been instructed to drop a tease or so as well. Ryan obviously gave his standard brother reply, which honestly should not have surprised anyone. Oliver dropped his standard Eddie is straight reply. They're the exact same answer just said with different nouns (or noun phrase but you know what I mean). Oliver dropped most of his teases in the podcast. It's difficult to get more teasing than 'super gay'. But Ryan also dropped a teaser/clue in his interview. I will take a moment to say that neither Oliver or Ryan benefit from print interviews because their respective approaches/personalities don't translate well in print. Oliver is super British, which means he's very dry. Super quick witted, but very dry, and that does not translate well in print at all. So he often comes across as a dick. Ryan, when he's trying not to spoil something, kind of word vomits and hopes for the best, until it comes to Buddie questions or anything approaching sexuality questions, which is what he's trying not to spoil. In those areas he gives the same canned responses. So his print interviews end up sounding dismissive because those responses don't match his other rambles. But that's not how either man really is so when videos drop of those exact same interviews the tone of the entire interview completely changes. Because the videos show their faces. Which means people get to see their smiles, and their awkwardness, or in Ryan's case his face turning bright red. They're terrible liars. Abysmal liars. It's actually hilarious how bad they are. But they're also ridiculously charming and it works completely in video form. What was amazing about the Ryan interview video in particular was you could see in real time the moment he realized he messed up. Yes he said the word brother, but almost immediately one of two things happened. He either wasn't supposed to say the word brother anymore, but is so hardwired to that answer that he slipped back into factory setting mode, and then tried to correct it; or he missed the segway where he was supposed to drop his future relationship tease and had to course correct. Because he dropped that line about his next relationship (which was clearly ummm yeah) completely out of context and not at all at the right point in the interview. His ears even got red. It was amazing to watch. They're both very conscious of not being the one to spoil it ahead of time, and in video interviews that mostly comes across as awkward and charming, but in print interviews they just sound irritated. It's wild.

Another interesting thing was Oliver's very coached answer to the Tommy question. His reaction to the Tommy stuff during the podcast was clearly spur of the moment and off the cuff, (loved it. no notes) which works on a podcast. Today he was much more diplomatic in his answer. That was not a coincidence. I think he was instructed to make sure he reiterated that that particular storyline is over for Buck, but I also think they worked with him a bit on the best way to say that. Which doesn't surprise me at all. We all love Oliver's hater game but the upfronts is not the place for that. And truth be told Oliver probably didn't require much coaching on that answer but he had clearly practiced it a few times (Aisha not so much, lol). And honestly it was long overdue to be said. There was no reason to give the impression that it's open ended when episode 15 really brought that storyline to a natural conclusion. As for all the tommies in my inbox spiraling over Tommy being reintroduced as Buck's love interest again in episode 11 only for it to go nowhere, all I can say is that's not what he was brought back for. He was brought back to be the catalyst for the GA to question Eddie's sexuality. That was it. And the episode made that clear. You pretending that's not what was happening doesn't magically make it go away. He was always going to serve that purpose. Tim just should have never dragged it out this long. So ABC officially drawing a line through him and that plot point made sense. Moving on.

Probably means nothing, I want to stress that from go, but the fact that Tim doesn't appear to have been at the upfronts is interesting. He runs the number one show on the network, and was given a 2nd show as a result, dear god every new thing that comes out about the Nashville spinoff just sounds worse and worse, but I digress, so him not being at the event was noticeable. Shandoa Rimes was always there. ABC doesn't discourage show runners from attending. Again it most likely means nothing, but it is noticeable. I don't believe for one minute he willingly passed up the opportunity to talk about himself. Tim has been pretty concerning this season, especially the back half of the season. A couple of his interviews were giant red flags, in my opinion. For example the interview he gave after episode 15 was a disgrace from start to finish. Wanting to build an episode around a helicopter chase because you want to do your take on Apocalypse Now is astoundingly stupid (no he didn't want it for Tommy. The man flat out said he wanted to play Apocalypse Now). Deciding to kill your main character off, even though it will prove to be a fake out, apparently on a last minute whim, is a fireable offense. Having zero plan amongst the cast on how to proceed with the bit until the reveal is just unprofessional. Not being willing to stick to any kind of storyboarding or plan all season long is nonsensical, exhausting and highly disrespectful to your cast, crew and audience. I'm not going to touch the Ryan thing because it's very concerning on multiple levels and needs immediate reviewing on ABC's part. There are clearly issues with Tim and I don't know if this means ABC realizes that at minimum a conversation needs to take place, but they have to do something about him. They have to address some of these things. Again I want to stress that it's probably nothing but it was weird to me that he of all people doesn't appear to have been there. My boss never misses a chance to brag about his accomplishments. And Tim's never been shy about praising himself in the past. So yeah.

All in all a most enjoyable few days. I'm having a blast, as are most of us by the looks of things. Can't do anything about people who just refuse to read between the lines on things or follow obvious clues. I'm not responding to those asks either. Oliver and Ryan are not allowed to say anything definitive yet and I will never understand why some people don't get that. Anyway, carry on.

Thank you so much Nonny! My inbox desperately needed this post.

I won't touch upon everything mentioned in this post. The Tim Minear & Ryan Murphy topic speak for itself I think. But I do want to talk about the Oliver and Ryan part.

Okay, first of all...

For all the people dooming right now:

Step away from the interviews. Don't read them, don't listen to them and just ignore them. It's obvious that they stress you out to an unhealthy degree.

Ryan and Oliver CANNOT say ANYTHING about the upcoming finale and season 9. THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED! So yes, they spin around in circles, repeating the same thing, over and over again.

Oliver refers to Eddie as 'straight' in one interview and Ryan calls them 'brothers' in another. It isn't anything we haven't heard before. 🤷‍♀️

So just focus on the show for a minute. We have had soooo many clues and hints in the show that they are going forward with Buck being in love with Eddie and Eddie discovering his 'joy' (= Buck). We have also seen that Eddie is willing to do anything for Buck. That last episode was very telling. So yes... somewhere along the line Eddie will also realise that he feels more than friendship for Buck.

It is the obvious next step at this point. There is no way back and the show and network know it.

But of course, neither of these men can talk about this yet. Because yes, Eddie is still canonically straight right now. He is immensely queer-coded, but in the text he is still straight. So what else is Ryan supposed to say? He cannot yet truthfully answer the Buddie question.

So please stop blaming Ryan for not willing to do Buddie or whatever it is you are dooming over. The man is an actor who acts out what is in the script. He has often showed support for Buddie. He is fine with it. 🤷‍♀️

But he cannot possibly hint at anything to do with Eddie's sexuality, because then the cat would be out of the bag, and it's obvious that this is supposed to be a big surprise to the GA.

I will say this though...

That one line where Ryan talks about Eddie's next relationship being a life-changing one that will throw him for a loop??? Come on you guys. We got a quote like that and you're still dooming.🙄 Puh-lease.

As I said before, Buddie is a sure thing... the timeline however? I'm not sure about. I do expect something in the finale episode. But I truly don't know what that will be.

We'll have to wait and see. I for one cannot wait to watch that finale!🤗

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.