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ja3yun · 1 day

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Love Me Tender | S.JY

bf!jaeyun x gf!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft-dom jake, oral (f. rec), unprotected sex, cream pie, wax play, knife play, bondage, leather gloves, pussy slapping (once), nipple play, not proof read, anything else lmk. wc: 10.2k synopsis: when your tender, loving boyfriend jaeyun overhears a conversation about you wishing he was a bit rougher in bed, he vows to make sure you're completely satisfied, catering to all your hearts desires. a/n: hi! this is something i had sitting in my mind but also this is for my girl @yzzyhee because i genuinely cannot express my love or gratitude more than semi-dom, blonde jake. i hope you love it, mars and just know that i am and always will be proud of you, no matter what.

“It’s great and, fuck, I love him so much. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. It’s just…”

Just what?

Jaeyun halts abruptly outside your bedroom door as your muffled voice drifts through the wood. Having just returned from work, he had eagerly sprinted up the stairs upon seeing your shoes by the doorway, signalling your presence. Now, that excitement has dissipated, replaced by a creeping anxiety that crawls over his skin.

His mind races through every minor mistake he might have made in the past week to prompt you to discuss your relationship with someone else. No, you haven’t mentioned his name, he can’t fathom the idea of another man being the ��best thing that ever happened to you’, so he jumps to conclusions.

Was it because he didn't clean on his day off last week? Or perhaps because he brought home that stray dog and begged you to keep her, even though neither of you had the time to give it the love it deserved? Jaeyun bites his bottom lip, pondering the meaning behind your words.

Leaning closer, he presses his hand against the door frame and hovers his ear just above the slit in the door to hear you better. In his eyes, everything in your relationship is more than fine, so he’s desperate to understand how he can fix whatever is wrong. If Jaeyun is determined to do one thing right in his life, it’s to be your perfect boyfriend.

The house is as quiet as a hairdresser's salon on a Monday morning, the silence thick and suffocating, until you break it with a sigh. “I just wish he was a bit rougher,” you finally say aloud, causing Jaeyun’s eyes to widen and ears to perk up.

Of all the things in the world, he never expected you to say that. What do you mean rougher? He taps his foot on the carpet, as if trying to hurry your conversation along to hear your explanation. “He’s not bad in bed, far from it actually; he does this thing with his tongue that sends me to heaven…”

You trail off, and Jaeyun can vividly picture how you’re standing: your pretty pink lips caught between your teeth, a coy smile on your face, and your thighs rubbing together as you shift on your feet. There is a tiny swelling of pride adding to his emotions as you speak.

He knows how much you love his tongue, so much so that you’re often begging for it most nights and cumming on his face within minutes. His mind flashes back to those nights, your moans echoing in his memory.

That’s why it’s so hard for him to grasp what you’re talking about. He is rough with you to an extent - spanking your ass, sometimes tying you up, even pulling at your hair. Was that not enough for you? He’s always been scared of hurting you, even in those moments, so he can’t imagine going further than that. The thought of causing you pain, even unintentionally, sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, exactly,” you agree with whoever is on the other line, “I want to just be manhandled and fucked like in the books we read or those Twitter porn videos. It’s just never going to happen, not with Jaeyun.”

Jaeyun’s body grows hot with nerves, goosebumps rising on his skin at your implication. Not with Jaeyun. What if you get bored every time he makes love to you and eventually leave him for someone else, someone who can fulfil those fantasies? The idea of losing you to someone else, someone who might treat you with the roughness you crave, makes his stomach churn with dread.

Oh, no. No, no, no. He cannot and will not let that happen. He refuses to lose you over something like this.

“Anyway, he’ll be home soon… No, I can’t say anything. You know how much he loves me. If I start asking him to edge me or bring a knife to a love fight, he would freak the fuck out,” you laugh disheartened, intending it as a joke but the sentence coming out as distant longing.

Jaeyun’s breath catches in his throat at the mention of a knife. You don’t mean a physical one right? It has to be a metaphor and you don’t want him to actually bring out the good kitchen knives and chop you up like yesterday’s salad? He’s not even a chef, never mind a butcher.

He hears you say your final goodbyes to your friend, causing him to silently run back to the top of the stairs, creating the facade that he has just arrived home. Just as he gets into place, you swing open your bedroom door and jolt back for a moment, surprised to see him there.

Swallowing the mix of hurt and apprehension, Jaeyun flashes the smile you fell in love with at first sight and walks over to you, pretending he didn’t hear a thing. “Hi, baby,” he says as chirpily as he can manage given the circumstances, walking towards you with an air of forced nonchalance.

“Hey, Jaeyun,” you say, looking him up and down with furrowed brows. “Babe, why are you so… all over the place?” The question isn’t misplaced. Despite his best attempts to conceal his true emotions, his body betrays him. His chest heaves as if he’s out of breath, his face is still flushed with a mix of embarrassment and nerves, and his hands tremble slightly.

“Oh, just those stairs, you know how they kill me,” he lets out a tense chuckle, trying to pass it off as his aversion to the gym.

Narrowing your eyes, you pout sceptically at his response, clearly not buying it. Your boyfriend might not frequent the gym, but he certainly plays football every Wednesday with his workmates, and his stamina during sex is nothing short of impressive. There’s definitely something else going on.

Now it’s your turn to get bitten by the anxiety bug. Surely he hadn’t overheard your conversation with Yeojeong just now? You would never be able to forgive yourself if he did because, in your mind, it wasn’t a complaint, just a small, wistful desire. But if he overheard, he might think it meant you were dissatisfied with him, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

You blame the dark romance BookTok recommendations you've been indulging in for your sudden craving for a little, or a lot, of spice. That, and the three-month fascination you had with Ghostface after watching Scream 6.

Before your mind can wander to your boyfriend wearing a delicious mask as he pounds into you, you shake your head to clear your thoughts and smile widely, choosing to believe him over your own worries for a change.

Encircling your arms around his waist, you place a kiss on his chest as you always do, hoping the tenderness and love from your lips reach his heart. “I would say go to the gym with me, but I like you just as you are,” you say gently, hoping that if he did, in fact, hear the conversation, it will put his mind at ease. That, and because you mean it wholeheartedly.

There isn’t a man in the world that could compare to your boyfriend, and you wouldn’t want to change any aspect of him. Not his tardiness, not his gentleness, and certainly not his soul.

Jaeyun feels your warmth and the sincerity in your voice. Your words provide a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. He wraps his arms around you tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you so fucking much, Y/N. You know I would do anything for you, right?”

You look up at him and nod. “I know, baby.”

It’s strange how you are both having a silent conversation with your words. Each of you is reassuring the other, yet meaning different things. You are telling him that despite your own fantasies, he would never have to change just to meet them.

Jaeyun, on the other hand, is conveying his commitment that he’s about to fulfil each and every single one of them.

_____

Jaeyun waits anxiously for the sound of your keys jingling in the lock as you secure the door behind you. The moment he hears it, he springs into action, heart pounding with a mix of determination and trepidation. He’s taken the day off work specifically for this - a day to explore a world he has no right to be stepping into, but one he is compelled to understand for your sake.

As the sound of your footsteps fades away, Jaeyun makes his way to the bedroom, his sanctuary of comfort and intimacy. Today, however, it feels like uncharted territory. The room is filled with reminders of your shared life: photographs capturing moments of joy, your favourite books stacked neatly on the nightstand, and the scent of your perfume lingering in the air. It all feels both reassuring and daunting.

Jaeyun sits at your shared desk, his heart pounding as he opens your laptop. Rather than logging into his own account, he attempts to access yours. It’s not that you’ve ever hidden anything from him; he’s just never needed to know your password or lurk in your browsing history. You’ve always been an open book. That is, until now.

Determined to delve into your private world to better understand and satisfy your cravings in bed, Jaeyun convinces himself that his intentions are pure. Logging into your account and discovering any form of porn you might own feels inherently better than randomly searching the internet. Surely, you must have a treasure trove of knowledge about your desires just sitting in plain sight, waiting to be explored. He just needs the password to unlock it.

Staring at your account login screen, he watches the cursor blink patiently in the password box. His mind races, trying to guess what it could be. The first thing that comes to mind is your anniversary. With a confident smile, he types in the date, knowing that it’s his own password as well. But when the message ‘Incorrect Pin’ flashes on the screen, his confidence wavers. He sits back, eyes wide with surprise.

What could it possibly be, then? Jaeyun runs through a list of possible passwords in his mind: your birthday, the name of your favourite pet, maybe even a significant place. Each attempt is met with the same frustrating result—‘Incorrect Pin.’

After a few more failed tries, he feels a pang of guilt but pushes it aside. This is for the greater good, he tells himself. This is to make you happy. He takes a deep breath and thinks more deeply about what the password could be. Something personal, something meaningful. He recalls moments you've shared, your inside jokes, and your shared passions. Then it hits him: your favourite band.

If there was another Jaeyun in your life, it was Lee Jaeyun from TO1. He’s not a jealous person but for that man, he is the most green-nosed, spiteful gremlin. Day after day he has had to hear about him despite the short answers and disinterest he shows, it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. It doesn’t help they have the same name either.

Pulling out his phone, he searches for the leader’s date of birth, already resigned to the idea that this will work and that he will have to somehow get you to change it before he becomes the human embodiment of envy. Typing in ‘160800’, the computer finally unlocks with ease. His face falls as the screen reveals your desktop, confirming his suspicion. Maybe to save himself the tiny heartache, he should have just searched for all of this on his own account; that’s what he gets for snooping, he supposes.

Jaeyun takes a moment to compose himself, shaking off the petty jealousy that flares up. He reminds himself why he’s doing this: to better understand your desires and make you happy. With a sigh, he begins navigating through your files, searching for anything that might give him insight into your fantasies.

The wallpaper is a picture of you and him on your third date to the petting farm. You both were covered up to the heavens, puffer jackets, scarves, and gloves to match since it was a bitingly cold winter. Jaeyun had insisted you go to the Christmas markets since it was one of the most romantic things to do; taking pictures under the lights and riding the swings, all while sharing kisses and nuzzling his nose with yours in an attempt to stay warm in the night.

But you had other plans. You wanted to see the cows and pigs instead, petting them and feeding them with the guidance of the farmer. It was one of the best dates of your life, Jaeyun had never seen you on such a high and he has still to replicate the elation on your face from the picture. Despite both of you getting covered in mud and earning a cold from the trip - that just meant cuddles in bed the next few days which then resulted in the first ‘I love you’ being shared - he is so glad you talked him into it.

His heart pounds at the memory, a fond smile growing on his face. There is no better joy to him than seeing you happy. And that brings him back to his original task.

Clicking on the browser, Jaeyun goes to your bookmarks first, scouring for anything that could seem on the darker side. However, it’s filled with movie links and furniture you’re considering buying when you redecorate the living room.

He then recalls something you said on the phone about BookTok and frantically searches for the app on the computer. Once he sees the familiar logo, he clicks on it quickly and heads straight for your favourites. Luckily for him, you are a folder freak and categorise everything, so it’s easy to scroll past the TO1 edits, cooking recipes, and things Jaeyun would like folders to find the coveted book rec folder.

He clicks on the first one and grabs his phone, ready to make a list of every kink that is hidden within the reviews. Two hours and fourteen minutes later, he finds his mind completely immersed in your fantasy world filled with CEOs, bikers, vampires, guns, knives, BDSM, corruption, cockwarming, and many, many, other things. Each paragraph and trigger warning becomes more outlandish than the last, and he realises he may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Jaeyun is thankful there isn’t anything that seems too brutal in there, but there are definitely some things he just point-blank refuses to take part in. Personally, he can’t imagine you are into some of the more extreme aspects either, but he understands that some elements come hand-in-hand with books like these. A few ideas are swirling in his head, however. There are things he doesn’t know if he can do, but for you, he will try his best.

As Jaeyun jots down notes, he starts with the milder kinks and gradually works his way up to the more intense ones: dominance and submission, rough play, role-playing, and bondage. These are things he feels he can explore with you, drawing inspiration from the confident and assertive male leads he's encountered in your favourite books. He imagines scenarios where he takes control, ties you up, and whispers dirty things in your ear—thankful to those characters for providing him with some content to work with. His pulse quickens at the thought, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through him.

Yet, there is one recurring theme that stands out among all your fantasies:

Knives.

It’s something you verbally pointed out in the phone call and is flagged as a potential trigger in almost all of the books you've favourited. The mere thought of it makes Jaeyun’s cheeks flush and sends a chill down his body. The idea of causing you harm, even in a controlled and consensual manner, is unsettling to him.

But Jaeyun is committed to understanding and fulfilling your desires. He knows this is about pleasing you and embracing your fantasies to keep his role as your perfect partner. There must be safe ways to explore this particular kink, ways that satisfy your cravings without risking harm.

So, with determination, Jaeyun rolls up his sleeves and cracks his neck from side to side, preparing himself for a deep dive into your kink. Tonight, he will make sure you never have to go back to those books again.

_____

Walking through the door, you see the lights entirely out, causing a bit of alarm to ring inside your chest. Jaeyun is always home by now on his days off, so it’s strange that the house is in darkness.

“Baby? Are you home?” you whisper-shout, just on the off chance that he has decided to take a nap and it’s run through to 8pm. He has been working hard the past few days, so exhaustion is granted, but it’s just not like him to at least wait up for you.

You take off your shoes and place your bag next to the door, waiting for a response that never comes. Arching a brow, you look around, seeing that the house is in peak condition, just the way you left it this morning. Jaeyun is notorious for leaving a pint glass on the table and a plate that held his lunch on the coffee table, yet, nothing.

Gingerly, you make your way up the stairs, the balls of your feet never hitting the surface as you tiptoe slowly. You can’t understand why your mind went straight to a man murdering your lover while you were away, yet, your brain has conjured up this picture in your mind. The thought makes your heart pound and your throat go dry; if there was one person you couldn’t live without, it was Jaeyun.

“Baby, please answer me?” you say a bit louder at the top of the stairs, hoping he’ll respond and dispel any worries that are currently stabbing in your heart.

There is a soft flicker coming from your bedroom, a golden hue seeping through the glass pane at the top. It doesn’t smell like a fire, and you don’t own a lamp like that, so your curiosity is piqued. Your favourite scent of vanilla and amberwood engulfs the hall, causing you to drift rather than charge to your bedroom. The familiar fragrance calms your nerves, making you feel like you’re being welcomed home in the most intimate way.

Reaching for the door, you timidly open it, your hand trembling slightly. As the door creaks open, the soft glow of candlelight bathes the room in a warm, intimate atmosphere. The bed is adorned with fresh, crisp linens, and there are petals of your favourite pink and yellow tulips scattered over the floor. You’ve never been one for roses, and Jaeyun knows this, opting to get you only the best. The sight of the room, meticulously prepared, tugs at your heartstrings, filling you with a blend of love and anticipation.

You step further into the room, careful not to disrupt the scene before you. The effort Jaeyun has put into this is clearly extensive, and you would hate to mess with it before he has the chance to show it off to you. That does beg the question, though: where is he?

Just as you mentally ponder his whereabouts, you feel a pair of hands grip your shoulders, massaging you slowly. The sensation is different, though; it’s not Jaeyun’s normal soft touch. His fingers feel chunkier and are clearly covered by something. A shiver runs down your spine as the mystery deepens.

“I thought you were never coming home, baby,” he whispers into your ear, his lips softly grazing your lobe as he speaks. The sensation of his proximity and the lower octave of his tone instantly travels down to your core. There’s an edge to his voice that you’ve never heard before, making your pulse quicken with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

You twist your head to look at him, but the darkness of the room prevents you from fully seeing his beautiful, strong features, however, that big nose and blonde hair are still prominent enough to make you weak. What you do notice in addition, though, are the thick, black leather gloves that hold you in place. The sight of them makes your heart race; they add an unexpected, thrilling element to the scene.

In confusion, you reach up to touch them, the feeling of them oddly cool despite the heat invading both the room and your body. “Jaeyun, it’s like 16 degrees outside, why are you—”

“Shh, I’m doing something special for you. Just relax, Princess.” The use of “Princess” sends a jolt through you. It’s a term of endearment reserved for special occasions: birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays. It must mean you are either forgetting a crucial moment in your relationship or he’s up to something. Boyfriends don’t do “something special” without a reason.

Turning your body to face him, you eye him with intense scepticism. “What did you do wrong?”

He laughs, but it’s not his usual heart-warming giggle. It’s mocking, as if you have the nerve to ask the question. “Me? I think it was you who did something wrong, baby"

Okay, now you really are confused. There is nothing you have done wrong, and you know it. Plus, if you did, Jaeyun would whine about it to you right after and make you give at least three kisses as an apology. Now that you look at him, you take in his appearance. His beautiful blonde hair styled to fall just slightly over his usual puppy eyes, the water ducts of his eyelids are painted with a subtle liner, and there is a red tint to his lips, only making them more enticing. The cute boyfriend you love so dearly is nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by a smug-looking man with eyes glaring into yours.

What you don’t know is that Jaeyun’s heart is pounding in his chest, and the fire in his eyes is determined to see this plan through. He needs everything to go well, and that means staying in character and giving you the fucking you deserve, the one you crave so bad.

“What did I do, Jaeyun?” you ask a bit breathlessly, a frown forming on your face at the prospect of hurting your man. The idea of disappointing him gnaws at your heart, yet the unfamiliar intensity in his eyes sends a thrill through you.

It almost cracks Jaeyun’s well-curated persona that he spent all afternoon figuring out, from the white shirt with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up, the gloves on his hands, to the daring glint in his eye. He’s determined to give you everything your heart desires tonight. He softens his gaze, just a touch, and his hand gently runs over your cheek, the once thoughtful and endearing gesture now turned slightly sinister with the leather of the glove, the cracks bumping over your blushed skin.

“You did something bad, Princess, something I’m going to have to punish you for,” he replies to your question, never actually answering it but rather giving you more queries. His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument, and it makes your heart pound in your chest. You’re torn between trepidation and arousal, the lines between them blurring as you stand before him.

He takes his eyes off of you, giving up the harsh stare, and focuses on your work shirt. “Take it off,” he instructs demandingly, his eyebrows arching expectantly. His tone leaves no room for hesitation, and your hands move almost automatically.

Almost under a spell, you nod, fumbling with the top button. Your mind is racing with trepidation and nervousness as you try to process this new side of your boyfriend. You aren’t complaining; he looks fucking hot, and the way he’s directing you is making your legs shake in the best possible way. The atmosphere in the room is charged with raw, electric energy, every second stretching out with heightened anticipation.

He watches the first few buttons pop open, but you’re going far too slow for him, causing him to take action. He grabs the flimsy collar of your pink shirt, ripping it open with tenacity. Buttons fly across the room and clatter against the surfaces of the floor and the chest of drawers, your shocked gasp echoing the sound.

A smirk marks his face as he sees the pretty white bra holding your perfect tits up. He loves your body more than anything, and honestly, he isn’t thrilled about marking it up tonight. However, the more he thinks about it, something is enticing about the marks being made by him. His desire to please you is interwoven with a burgeoning sense of ownership and dominance, the sight of you laid bare before him stirring something deep within, the persona of being dominant now enveloping his whole demeanour.

“Are you wearing the matching panties?” he asks carefully, knowing full well you never leave the house in an odd set, scared of the bad luck it could bring.

Nodding, you already know what he is asking and unzip your black, matt skirt, letting it fall to the floor as you stand in nothing but the lingerie set you bought spontaneously, and by fuck are you glad you wore it today. It was not intentional, your expectations of coming home were not to this but rather a quiet night in the way you usually do, but something compelled you to the sexier underwear today. Perhaps in the back of your mind, you knew something special was going to happen.

Jaeyun takes you in, staring blatantly at your body and thinks of all the ways he is ready to take you tonight. He wants this to be the best fuck you’ve ever had and you are making it so easy for him to do so.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful, Princess,” he compliments, looking at you with hungry eyes. The gesture should make you feel insecure but it only fuels your need to have him closer. Blushing you look down, which he quickly rectifies, grasping at your jaw tight enough for you to feel commanded but not hurt, and brings his face closer to yours. “Get on the bed, on your knees and wait until I tell you to move.”

If your pussy could cry, it would. Your typical love-making boyfriend is now showing his more dominant side, and it’s driving you wild. You move to the bed, your legs feeling like jelly, and position yourself on your knees as instructed. The air is thick with anticipation, your body aching for his touch.

Jaeyun watches you, his eyes dark with desire. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him: you, waiting obediently, dressed in nothing but that perfect lingerie set. His heart pounds in his chest, a mix of love and primal need fueling his actions. He wants to make you feel things you’ve never felt before, to push the boundaries of pleasure and trust between you.

Walking towards you, he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself behind you. His gloved hands run down your back, the cool leather a stark contrast to your heated skin. “You look so fucking perfect like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion and desire. The sensation of his gloved hands on your bare skin sends waves of pleasure through you, making you arch your back slightly, seeking more of him.

He reaches around to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently through the lace of your bra. The pressure is just right, enough to make you gasp and press back against him. “Do you like that, Princess?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe out, the word escaping you in a rush of need.

“Good,” he replies, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. “I want to hear you tonight. I want to know exactly how much you’re enjoying this. And if I need to stop, say the word and I will.”

Before you can fully comprehend his words, Jaeyun reaches to the side of the bed, retrieving something. The air is thick with anticipation, the suspense almost tangible. The idea that your typically gentle boyfriend has transformed into someone so dominant is exhilarating. Your heart races as you wait for his next move, the atmosphere charged with excitement.

Suddenly, your hands are bound together with a silky pink ribbon. The fabric is soft against your skin, a stark contrast to the intense emotions bubbling inside you. A shiver of need runs down your spine, your breath hitching as Jaeyun tightens the ribbon around your wrists. This gentle restraint heightens your vulnerability, making you feel even more exposed and ready for whatever Jaeyun has planned.

He ties the ribbon into a delicate bow, his fingers moving with confident precision. The care he takes with each loop and knot sends a wave of warmth through you, reminding you of the love and trust that form the foundation of this intense experience, one you didn’t ask him for yet somehow he knew you wanted The bow rests softly against your skin, a symbol of the control you've willingly surrendered to him.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. Leaning in, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, "You’re perfect like this, Princess."

His words send a rush of heat through you, particularly to your core, your body responding to the deep, commanding tone. Every touch, every whisper, ignites a fire within you, your anticipation almost unbearable. The sensation of being bound and at his mercy only heightens your arousal. This is what you have been craving and he is feeding you full.

Jaeyun's gloved hands move slowly over your body, exploring every inch of your exposed skin. The cool leather contrasts with your warmth, sending shivers of pleasure through you. He traces the curve of your neck, the swell of your breasts, and the dip of your waist, his touch both gentle and firm. Each caress leaves a trail of tingling sensation, your body hypersensitive to his every movement.

Kneeling behind you, his chest pressed against your back, he whispers, "You trust me, don’t you?"

"Always" you breathe out, your voice a mix of need and certainty. You trust him completely, ready to let him guide you through this new and exhilarating experience. Although you have always dreamed of this, you still don’t really know what to expect but if Jaeyun is on the other side of it, you feel more than safe.

His hands sliding down your arms to rest on your bound wrists. He holds them gently, the ribbon a reminder of your submission. "I’m going to make you feel so good, Princess."

His words are filled with love and adoration despite the commanding edge in his tone and grip. While he is playing the role of a dominant, the tenderness and affection he has for you remain palpable. He is still your loving boyfriend, and he will ensure you feel cherished and safe throughout this experience.

With a careful, guiding touch, he lays you down on your back, your bound hands resting against your stomach. He moves your legs so you're completely flat and comfortable against the mattress. The vulnerability of your position heightens your awareness of every sensation, yet you surrender yourself to him with ease, trusting him completely.

Jaeyun's smile is a mixture of pride and desire as he observes your obedience. He climbs over you, reaching for one of the candles on the bedside table. The soft glow of the flame illuminates his face, casting shadows that dance across his features, making him look even more enticing.

Sitting himself firmly over your core, he holds the candle above you, the wax slowly beginning to melt. The anticipation sends shivers through your body, the heat from the candle contrasting with the coolness of the room. This was something you always wished to try, granted, it was on him rather than you but you welcomed the experience nonetheless.

"Are you ready, Princess?" he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with promise.

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Yes," you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement.

His eyes lock onto yours, ensuring you are fully present in this moment. "Tell me if it’s too much," he instructs, his tone softening for a moment. He wants to be rough with you but also let you know that you are in control to stop and go as you please.

"I will," you promise, trusting him implicitly.

With that, he tilts the candle, allowing a drop of hot wax to fall onto your bare skin, just above your breast. The sensation is sharp and intense, a sudden burst of heat that quickly cools, leaving a tingling trail of pleasure in its wake. You gasp, your body arching slightly at the unexpected sensation. Instinctively, your arms move to reach for him, but bound by the ribbon, all you can do is stretch them above your head, your fists clenching. There is nothing you can do because if you interfere, he will simply stop, and that is the last thing you want.

So, you bear the mingling pain and pleasure, wiggling under him with lust as your arousal soaks the freshly made bed. Each drop of wax is accompanied by the heat of the flame, adding to the wonder you are feeling. The mixture of sensations – the heat of the wax, the coolness of the air, the firmness of the mattress beneath you, and the weight of Jaeyun’s body – creates a symphony of pleasure that envelops you completely. Your breaths come in short, shallow gasps, your mind consumed by the intense, intoxicating experience.

Your legs kick involuntarily as he moves the candle lower, dripping the hot wax into your navel. The feeling is overwhelming over the sensitive area, making your whole body yelp and your hips buck up into him. Each new drop intensifies your arousal, your body responding eagerly to the mix of pleasure and slight pain.

Jaeyun's eyes darken with satisfaction at your reactions, his dominant persona growing stronger. The wax paints your body like paint on a fresh canvas, telling a story of your shared passion and want. The sight is so beautiful he can’t believe he created such a masterpiece.

Satisfied with his work, he sets the candle aside and runs his gloved hands over your body, tracing the cooling trails of wax with a gentle touch. The contrasting sensations of the smooth leather against your heated skin make you shiver, your body hypersensitive to his every touch.

"You're doing so well, Princess," he praises, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sends waves of pleasure through you.

His hands move lower, parting your thighs as he positions himself between them, his body sleeking to lie half on and half off the bed. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your body aching for his touch, for his tongue. He leans down, his breath hot against your core, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Nothing makes you happier than when Jaeyun is between your legs and that skilful tongue of his is making you cum over and over again. With your hands tied to grant you just enough freedom, you reach down into his hair and grasp it, guiding him closer to where you need it most.

“Jaeyun, please, I need you so bad,” you whimper, the tone of your voice desperate and needy much to his satisfaction.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, I love it when you beg," he murmurs, his lips curling into a knowing grin. If there is one thing he always makes you do in the bedroom, it’s begging, and fuck does he eat it up every single time.

Without an ounce of hesitation, his mouth descends upon you, his tongue circling your clit with fervour, his lips creating a comforting cocoon around his actions. The grip on his blonde hair is harsher than before, your fingers threading through with ease as you push him further into your heat, his nose subsequently grazing just above where he is focusing. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, each flick of his tongue sending pulses of pleasure through your body.

His still-gloved hands grip your thighs and push them apart, holding you wide open for him as he sucks and licks with velocity. His eagerness to please you is seeping through, the boyfriend that you know and love with a need to make sure you’re receiving the most intense experience of your life. The leather of his gloves against your skin adds an unexpected thrill, a reminder of the control he holds and the lengths he is willing to go to make you feel incredible.

Sucking on your bud, his eyes glance up at you with a mischievous glint, watching your every reaction. The connection between you deepens, a silent communication passing between you, the love he has for you evident in the sparkle you see flash before you. Your breath hitches, and your back arches off the bed as his tongue works its magic, each movement precise and deliberate; your body is his instrument, and he is playing it masterfully, drawing out notes of ecstasy that resonate in your very core.

Your moans grow louder, more desperate, filling the room with the sounds of your pleasure. Jaeyun's grip on your thighs tightens, his determination evident in the way he devours you. He knows exactly how to push you to the edge, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink of orgasm.

"Please, Jaeyun," you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, laced with need.

His response is a deep, satisfied hum against your clit, the vibrations adding another layer to your mounting pleasure. The combination of his skilled mouth and the teasing flicks of his tongue drive you wild, your body trembling with the intensity of your arousal.

Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he increases his pace, his tongue moving faster, his suction stronger. The world fades away, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on you, the heat pooling in your belly, ready to explode.

With a final, powerful suck, he sends you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure, your moans turning into cries of rapture. He doesn't stop, prolonging your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you're left breathless and spent.

Jaeyun laps up all of your juices like a dog craving water in the summer sun, his eyes closed to enhance his senses as he cleans you up. He loves nothing more than eating you out, seeing it as an honour rather than a chore. The taste and smell of you drive him wild. He continues to slurp your essence, even though you’re squirming each time the tip of his tongue drags along your clit.

“Jaeyun, it’s too much,” you gasp as he nibbles around your sensitive area, each touch sending shivers through your body.

Removing his face from your cunt, he licks the wetness from his lips with a sadistic smirk, his eyes predatory and ready to ravage you at any moment. The intense gaze makes you shudder with longing, the need for his cock so obvious that you’re moving down with your legs, your pussy chasing his still-clothed erection.

But Jaeyun has other plans, much more sinister plans.

“Don’t be so needy, Princess,” he growls, slapping your pussy once and snapping his fingers. “Move up.” The command in his voice leaves you no room for error or hesitation. You move up, the restraint on your wrists making it a little more difficult than anticipated.

As you lay your head on the soft pillow that carries his scent, Jaeyun smiles in satisfaction, reaching under the bed to find something. If it’s anything like the silk ribbon that is still bounding your wrists, you’re excitedly awaiting the reveal. The prolepsis is almost too much to bear, your heart pounding in your chest as you watch him find exactly what he is looking for.

When his hand re-emerges, it holds a knife: the handle thick and enticing, the blade sharp and dangerous . Your eyes widen in a mix of fear and excitement, your breath catching in your throat. This is all you’ve ever wanted, a fantasy you’ve kept hidden, and now it’s coming to life. How did he know?

The sight of the silver glinting in the candlelight sends a thrill through you, your body trembling with a potent blend of arousal and trepidation. If there was one thing you never expected Jaeyun to do, it was this. Often, he would apologise during sex if he pressed into you too hard, so you can’t understand what the sudden change is about.

Tying you up, slapping your pussy, all of that you could understand, none causing enough damage to scar you, yet the knife he wields is an instrument meant to deface you in some way, to hurt you which is exactly the opposite of anything Jaeyun has ever wished to do upon you.

Rolling the knife between his covered fingers as though it is a drumstick, he looks at you menacingly. “Does this shit turn you on? A knife?” he scoffs at the question he doesn’t expect an answer for. “It can do so much damage yet you finger yourself over the thought of it, don’t you?”

All the novels you’ve read suddenly come rushing back but you swore you never spoke to him about this before. Knives aren’t exactly a common bedroom item so for him to know this tiny detail about your fantasy is so…

…The phone call. He did hear it.

Your heartbeat quickens with a mixture of love and anxiety. Jaeyun is doing all of this for you because of what you said, going to extraordinary lengths to fulfil your desires. Most wouldn’t care to cater to your wants, yet here he is, stepping out of his comfort zone just to please you. The realisation floods through you, bringing a wave of gratitude and affection.

Jaeyun notices the shift in your expression immediately, smiling knowingly. “Oh, yeah, I know all about your twisted fantasies,” he smirks, pointing the knife to himself. At first, panic grips you, fearing what he might do, but to your relief, he catches the blade on his shirt and drags it down with force, ripping the material effortlessly, and leaving his torso exposed. “And I’m going to make sure every single one of them comes true.”

Taking in the sight of his abs, you whimper, longing to touch them, yet you resist, keeping your hands firmly above your head in obedience. Jaeyun’s body causes butterflies to erupt in your tummy, the movement stirring your arousal even more.

He brings the knife to your chest, pressing ever so lightly. He spent considerable time practising the pressure of the blade on various objects, ensuring he wouldn’t hurt you in any way. His meticulous preparation is evident as he caters to your needs without going too far.

Your lungs tighten as you feel the cold steel between your breasts, the sharp tip piercing just enough to feel it but not cutting you. The sensation is electrifying, a blend of fear and excitement that heightens every nerve in your body. Your breaths come in shallow gasps, your chest rising and falling rapidly under his touch.

“Just breathe, Princess,” Jaeyun murmurs soothingly, his voice a gentle counterpoint to the sharpness of the knife. His eyes never leave yours, maintaining a connection that grounds you even in the intensity of the moment. The trust between you is palpable, a silent understanding that he will never truly harm you.

He moves the blade with precision, tracing patterns over your skin, each touch sending shivers down your spine. The cool metal contrasts with the heat of your body, creating a tantalising mix of sensations that leaves you breathless. Your nipples harden, the chill of the knife adding to your arousal.

Jaeyun’s eyes darken with desire as he watches your reactions, his own arousal evident in the bulge pressing against his trousers. The power he wields, the control he has over your pleasure, fuels his own need despite his own worries, making him more determined to give you everything you desire.

The knife slides down to your stomach, pressing lightly against your navel. The sensation is both thrilling and terrifying, your body trembling under his ministrations. You can feel every inch of the blade’s journey, the delicate pressure a reminder of his control and your submission. The cold steel creates a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Is this what you wanted, Princess?” he asks, his voice a seductive whisper. The intensity in his eyes makes your core tighten, your need for him overwhelming. The power dynamic between you amplifies your arousal, each moment of vulnerability intensifying the bond you share.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, swallowing air as your mouth dries up in complete lust for the man. The anticipation and desire build within you, each second stretched taut with expectation.

Jaeyun pouts mockingly, the corners of his lips curling into a teasing smile. The blade digs a tiny bit deeper, just enough to nick your skin but not draw blood. The sharp sting elicits a gasp from your lips, a mix of pain and pleasure that sends waves of heat through your body. The sensation is electrifying, your senses heightened by the thrill of the knife's edge and the knowledge of Jaeyun’s precise control.

His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you unbreakable. The trust and love you share make this moment possible, allowing you to surrender completely to his whims. His free hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips tenderly, a stark contrast to the harshness of the blade against your skin. The leather of his glove traces your lip and you suck on it gently, sparking a twitch in his cock.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect.”

His words, filled with adoration and possessiveness, send another wave of arousal through you. Every touch, every word, is a testament to his dedication to you, his willingness to explore your deepest fantasies.

His lips lean into yours, the edge of the blade now scarily close to your tender area. You quiver, scared yet enthralled at the idea that one move could change the pace of this night. His plump lips peck yours, leaving you longing for more, but he is already pulling away, sitting back up and looking thoughtfully at the knife in his hand.

“It’s strange that you crave this. I’m still trying to understand what it is about it that you love so much,” he questions, the shine of the steel hitting the candlelight once more. “Is it really better than my cock?”

You shake your head frantically, never wishing to set doubts into his head about his ability to please you. That cock has done more for you in the two years you have been together than anyone has ever done in your life. The planets that rocket has taken you to is more than you could ever wish for, no kink could ever top it.

Swiftly, he flicks the knife in his hand, the blade digging into his glove. To be fair, the whole reason he put on the gloves was exactly for this reason. Initially, he was going to spread you open and fuck you with it handle first just like in the books he skimmed on TikTok, but as he kneels between your thighs, power in his hands, he realises this is his opportunity to show you just how little you need this to satisfy you.

Licking his lips, he drags the handle down your slit, causing you to mewl out in want. At this point, you’ll take anything, all the teasing from him and greed to be fulfilled inside your body is too much to ignore. You need to be stuffed by something and you need it now.

The curve of the haft sits teasingly at your entrance, begging to be inside you, or rather, you’re begging it to be inside you. Your hips lift instinctively, seeking the pressure and the pleasure that promises to follow. Your breaths come in short, desperate gasps, your eyes locked onto his, silently pleading for release.

Jaeyun’s eyes burn with an intensity that matches your own. “You want this, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. The way he looks at you, with a mixture of dominance and affection, sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, Jaeyun, I need it.”

His smirk widens at your admission. “Too bad, Princess,” he suddenly chucks the knife away, the metal clattering against the floor as it slides out of reach. Your eyes widen in shock and confusion, a whimper escaping your lips at the unexpected turn of events.

“But-” you begin, your voice cracking with desperation. Jaeyun silences you with a finger pressed to your lips, his expression softening just a fraction as he leans in close.

“Trust me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I know what you need more than you do.”

With that, he shifts his position, his body pressing you down into the mattress with a delicious weight. He whips off his gloves and his bare hands roam your body, fingers tracing over your sensitive skin, sending sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. The sensation of his skin against your flesh is intoxicating and desperately what you need, heightening your awareness of every movement.

Jaeyun’s mouth moves down, his lips enveloping your breast, taking a nipple between his teeth and tugging lightly. You gasp, the sharp pleasure shooting straight to your core, your hips lifting instinctively to seek more contact.

“Jaeyun,” you moan, your voice a desperate plea. In response, he lavishes attention on your other breast, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he growls against your skin, his hands moving to grip your hips with a possessive intensity, just harsh enough to bruise you tomorrow. “Give me your wrists.”

Obliging, you offer your tied hands, presenting them as though they are a gift from you to him. The look in his eyes is fierce and tender all at once. He takes one of the ends of the bow, biting it gently before pulling, undoing his knot from earlier. The scene before you is so sensual that a tear rolls down your cheek, falling onto the bed beneath you.

The ribbon falls between you, resting on your body adorned with drops of wax. Jaeyun leaves it there, loving the way it decorates your skin. His eyes trace the path of the ribbon, admiring the contrast against your flesh.

He leans down, kissing the tear-streaked path on your cheek. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a mix of awe and adoration. “And you’re mine.”

His words send a shiver through you, the possessiveness in his tone amplifying your desire. His hands slide down your sides, fingers tracing the curves of your body with reverence. Every touch and every movement is deliberate, designed to heighten your pleasure.

Jaeyun’s lips follow the path of his hands, trailing kisses down your stomach, pausing to nuzzle the delicate skin just above your navel. His breath is warm against your skin, the sensation sending sparks of anticipation through you.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive growl. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling with need. “I need you inside me, Jaeyun.”

He smiles, already on his way to unbutton his slacks and take them off, trying his best to do it gracefully while still kneeling on the bed. Once his cock is free, his right hand grasps it firmly, stroking it with laziness.

The tip of his cock looks so delectable, the red, angry tip is begging to be satisfied, meaning he is enjoying this just as much as you are. Holding you steady, he positions himself between your thighs. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your body aching for his touch, for the feeling of him filling you completely.

“Please,” you beg, your voice breathless with need. “I need you, Jaeyun.”

“More than a knife?”

“Fuck the knife, I only want you, baby. Forever,” you whimper out, your pussy instinctively bucking up to find his cock, like two magnets destined for one another, just like your hearts. Never in your dreams did you think you could find a man like him, someone so easily willing to love you and everything you are, even the desires you hold deep in your heart.

His eyes gleam the same way they do when you tell him you love him or leave him to go to work. It’s adoration and acceptance that runs constantly throughout his blood and bones. The connection between you is palpable, a silent agreement that no matter where your fantasies take you, the love and trust you share will always bring you back to each other.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Jaeyun eases into you, the feeling of him stretching and filling you is pure bliss. You both let out a collective sigh, the initial penetration electrifying every nerve in your body. The sensation of him inside you, coupled with the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, is overwhelming in the best possible way.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice thick with gratification. He pauses for a moment, allowing you both to savour the connection before he begins to move.

His thrusts start slow, each one measured and deep, designed to draw out the pleasure and build the anticipation. Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you arch your back, meeting each of his movements with equal fervour.

The room fills with the symphony of your passion, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed, and your shared moans of ecstasy. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, your senses heightened, your body responding to his every touch.

“Jaeyun,” you gasp, your voice a breathless plea. “Harder.”

His eyes flash with a primal intensity, and he complies, increasing the force and speed of his thrusts. The bed shakes beneath you, the headboard tapping rhythmically against the wall as he drives into you with a fierce, unrelenting pace.

You grip the sheets tightly as the tip of his cock bruises your cervix, his hips moving with pure desire. This is the hardest he’s fucked you in his life, the grip on your waist and the powerful thrusts enough to leave marks. His lips devour yours in a passionate kiss, adding to the perfect blend of love and rawness you’ve been craving.

Tears well up in your eyes as he takes you to greater heights than anyone has before. You've never needed elaborate kinks to feel satisfied; you just needed Jaeyun. Yet, as he dominates you now, you realise how intoxicating his control can be. Maybe he could adopt this dominant persona more often because he is undeniably skilled at it.

Every movement, every touch, and every word from him ignites a fire within you, building towards an explosive climax. The room echoes with your shared moans, the bed creaking in protest as he thrusts into you relentlessly. Each sensation, from the sting of his bites to the deep ache of his penetration, pushes you closer to the edge of euphoria.

As your bodies meld together in passion and rhythm, you feel a deep connection that transcends mere physicality. It’s a dance of trust and desire, a symphony of pleasure orchestrated by the man who knows you intimately. In this moment, wrapped in his arms and lost in the ecstasy of his love, you realise that Jaeyun is not just fulfilling your fantasies - he’s surpassing them, guiding you to realms of bliss you never dared to imagine.

“I’m close, Princess,” he mutters, his head burying deep into your neck as his hips falter slightly.

You nod eagerly, your nails digging into his back to convey your urgency, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His cock feels so snug inside you that when you tighten involuntarily at his words, he’s drawn deeper into your depths, unable to resist your passionate grip as you cascade violently into orgasm.

“Fuck, Jaeyun!” you scream, your mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut, surrendering to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that engulfs every one of your senses. The intensity of your release leaves you trembling, your body quaking with the aftershocks of ecstasy as he continues to drive into you, prolonging your shared ecstasy.

In the midst of your euphoria, you feel Jaeyun’s own climax building, his movements becoming more urgent and erratic. His moans mingle with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure, the culmination of desire and connection that binds you together in this intimate moment.

As he finds release within you, his body stiffens with the force of his orgasm, his breaths ragged against your skin. He drawls out a long and desperate ‘fuck’ as he released his seed inside of you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white, the warmth of his cum somehow a soothing balm over to your shaking rapture.

Both of your hearts are racing as you come down, each of you just lost in sloppy kisses and hands roaming over one another. This was easily the most intense orgasm you have ever had thanks to the build-up that Jaeyun has provided and he feels the exact same way.

In the quiet aftermath, as you lie entwined and breathless, you revel in the depth of your connection with Jaeyun. Each gasp and whispered declaration of love reaffirms the bond you share, a bond forged through trust, intimacy, and the unrivalled pleasure of loving each other completely.

You look at him, his eyes still dazed but present. “I’m sorry you heard that phone call. I promise, I love you so much and you are enough for me, I don’t need anything more than I just need you.” You hope the words come across as sincere and heartfelt because you mean every syllable of it.

aeyun’s expression softens as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. “I know, Princess,” he murmurs, his voice tender. “I love you too, more than anything. Nothing can shake what we have. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I can do more if you just ask.”

His words sink deep into your heart, reminding you of his unwavering commitment and willingness to fulfil your desires. You feel a pang of regret for not confiding in him sooner, for letting fear hold you back from sharing your deepest fantasies with the man who loves you unconditionally.

“That’s the thing,” you say softly, your fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face. “I was afraid. Afraid that if I told you, it might change things between us. I love you so much, Jaeyun, and the thought of losing you scared me more than anything.”

Jaeyun’s gaze holds yours with such tenderness that it melts away your remaining doubts. “You’ll never lose me, Princess,” he reassures, his thumb brushing over your lips. “I want us to explore everything together, to share in each other’s desires and pleasures. Your happiness means everything to me.”

His sincerity washes over you like a soothing wave, filling you with a sense of relief and newfound courage. You realise now that true intimacy lies not only in physical connection but also in emotional honesty and vulnerability.

“I promise to communicate better,” you vow, meeting his gaze with determination. “To trust in us, in our love, and to share everything with you, no matter how wild or unconventional.”

He laughs heartily, his pretty teeth coming into display as he shakes his head. “I’ll do whatever you want, baby. Just say the kink and I’m there.”

You nod and press your lips against his, your body instinctively laying upon his, your thighs now straddling his side as your tongue explores his mouth with fervour. You hope everyone in the world gets to experience the love and trust that you and Jaeyun have,

Drawing back, he looks at you a little seriously, causing you to sit up straight. “We do need to talk about your computer password being Lee Jaeyun’s birthday and not mine,” he says half jokingly, half serious

Narrowing your eyes, you look deep into his. “Now, how do you know what my computer pin is?”

Instead of giving you an answer, he pulls you in closer, enveloping your lips with his as he swirls his tongue gently with his, hoping to distract you from the question It should only take a few more orgasms to make sure you never remember the question, saving him the scolding he would get for checking your password.

Maybe he’ll gag you this time, just in case.

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @pockettwinzz @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @emi-en @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @iikeustar @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #aj writes #enhypen hard hours

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secretlovezz · 1 day

Text

Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

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barcaatthemoon · 1 day

Text

bad girlfriend || alessia russo x reader ||

you and alessia get in a fight when you confront her about neglecting you.

you were utterly exhausted. it was your team's first practice of the season with your new coach who wanted to see your team reach the wsl. there had been offers to play in teams that had already made it, but it would have put distance in between you and alessia.

a part of you wanted to tell yourself that you didn't want the distance to put strain on your relationship, but you knew that alessia would break up with you before you could even finish telling her where you'd be. she couldn't be bothered to keep your relationship going if you moved away.

"are you fucking kidding me?" alessia grumbled at the sight of you splayed out on the couch. you let out a whine as alessia stomped past you. all you wanted was one day where she wasn't acting like an ass at home.

you had no idea what had gotten into her lately. alessia had been sweet at first, but once you got serious, she stopped caring. the longer that you stayed, the worse she treated you. there were often moments where you stopped and wondered if she just wanted you to break up with her. she'd look like an ass if she broke up with the social media sensation who was trying to get her team promoted.

"did you even get anything done today? the house looks like shit," alessia said. she dropped down onto couch. she pushed your legs away, careful not to sit on them. "it would be nice if i didn't come home to a mess like this all the time."

"it would be nice if you spent some time with me, but we can't all get what we want, now can we?" admittedly, it wasn't the most mature response, but you were sick and tired of being the adult with alessia. not only was she actually older than you, but she was always the perfect gentlewoman whenever other people were around.

"oh i'm so sorry. do you want me to quit playing at arsenal and join your little pipe dream pretend team?" alessia asked you. you clenched your fists at your sides and shot up from the couch. you stormed off towards the bedroom with alessia shouting after you about how immature you were being. all of her little comments died down as soon as she saw you walk out of the bedroom with a packed bag.

"i'll be back for my things tomorrow," you told her. alessia jumped up from the couch and sprinted to stand in front of the door. "alessia, move out of my way please. i need to go."

"no, i don't want you to. come on, this is a stupid fight. i'm sorry, i didn't mean what i said to you. i'll help you clean up and we can watch love island together. just please, don't leave," alessia fell onto her knees in front of you. you felt a bit bad, but you shoved right past her with your bag to leave. you didn't look back that night, you couldn't have without turning yourself right around.

…

"you said what to (y/n)! i should kick your fucking ass right here blondie!" alessia flinched at the sound of katie's voice. it was nothing compared to the glare she was receiving from leah. "are you mental? why would you ever say that it her?"

"i was mad, it just slipped out. i didn't mean it, not at all. i'm such an idiot," alessia cried. she had made it three days without you at home before she completely broke down. alessia didn't know whether or not to count herself lucky that katie and leah had been lingering in the locker room when alessia had her little tantrum.

"you're a dickhead, that's what you are. i don't know (y/n) very well at all, but i know that she's given up a lot to stay in london with you," leah told alessia. "i don't know what the hell is wrong with you, whether it's stress or your fucking ego, but you need to apologize."

"what can i do to get her back?" alessia asked. katie and leah shared a look, one that told alessia all she needed to know. you weren't hers anymore, not after what she had said to you. there was more than that, months of neglect and harsh words building up. alessia would consider herself lucky if you ever agreed to speak with her again.

"i'll be checking on the little chick, and if i heard that you've said anything other than that you're sorry and it was all your fault, i'll shatter your fucking knees," katie threatened. alessia jumped out of the way as katie moved past her, no doubt with her phone out to check on you.

"if she does take you back, don't make this mistake again," leah warned. alessia knew that already, but she still took leah's words to heart. she wanted a second chance, one that she wouldn't let waste for anything.

…

you hated being alone, but you hated living with your sister and her boyfriend even more. martha was great, but nick was an asshole. he got on your nerves like nobody else. you didn't think it was possible, but you almost missed being ignored by alessia over having to sit through nick's constant chatter for another night.

you pushed that thought out of your head as you pulled up to the training facility to see a familiar car in the parking lot. "alessia, what are you doing here?"

"i wanted to speak with you, but i don't know where you're staying," alessia said. she looked nervous, something that you weren't used to seeing on her. "can i start with apologizing because i am so sorry. i'm sorry for all of it. i shouldn't have ignored you for starters, and i shouldn't have said that. i'm sorry that i lied to you too."

"what did you lie about?" you asked her. suddenly, you were afraid that alessia had been hiding some big secret from you and that was why she had been so distant.

"i said that what you were doing with your team was nothing, and it's not. it's important, and i can't wait to play with you in the wsl," alessia said. she reached out to grab your hands, as if that would fix everything.

"alessia, you can't just come here, apologize, and expect us to be okay. do you have any idea how badly you've hurt me?" you asked her.

"i can't imagine what i've done to you. i can't explain why i ignored you, but i won't let it happen again. it's been a week, and i've never felt more miserable. i miss you so much, and i just want you to come back home with me," alessia said. you hated seeing her upset, even after what she had done to you. despite everything, you still loved alessia.

"a week. i'll come home for a week, and we'll see how things go from there. do anything like this again and my first call will be mccabe," you threatened. alessia nodded, already well aware of the things katie planned to do to her if she broke your heart again.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader

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goldsbitch · 2 days

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Ah...

In a world where people get born with the first sentence their soulmate shares with them tattooed on their wrist, Y/N and Oscar are probably not the ones with the easiest story to tell.

note: first Oscar fic! this is prep for a longer 1k followers celebration...i'm a little too excited for that one

warning: pure fluff

Not everyone got to meet their soulmate, and that was totally fine. Her parents weren't soulmates and they still managed to have an amazing life. Why waste time waiting around and looking for a guy who's first word he'd ever say to her was suppose to be "Ah."

"Ah."...? What was that about anyway? Stupid wrist tattoo, marking her forever with a word so unimpressive.

During her teenage years, it became an inside joke between her and her best friend. A word to overuse so much it could truly mean anything. Ah.

Her boyfriend was definitely not her soulmate. He was blessed with having a full sentence on his wrist - but in French, a language she did not speak. The hot, dark haired boy was too obsessed with studying physics to take the whole concept of soulmates seriously, so when they met in university, it was a no brainer to follow the path set by hormones rather than fate and date together.

Only after they graduated she realized just how soul-crushing it was to spend time with him. When the social circles broke down and they were left alone, it was more than clear they were not a good match. But it's hard to see the tornado when you're standing inside of it.

The vacation was suppose save the relationship. Instead, their fights were laced with her running away and him having his eyes wonder around any girl walking by.

Only two more days, she said as she walked hastily around a garden adjacent to the villa they were staying at, once again. It was like a dance - they'd fight, she'd run away, he'd search for her and they'd go back to their room for a night of silence. On repeat for the whole vacation organized by the devil himself. The plan was to turn her life upside down once she arrived back home. Start fresh. At that moment, she had no idea just how fresh that would be.

She stood in the middle of a pathway leading to dimly lit swimming pool, tired and impatient. By this time her boyfriend would usually be on his way to get her back.

Finally, grass cracking sound that followed any footstep in this garden. She closed her eyes, unable to do this dance anymore.

"I want to break up," she whispered and turned around.

Oscar did not plan on speaking with this woman standing in the middle of the way back to his hotel room. He was just coming back from his late evening swim session.

When she uttered those words, it was like each of the syllable burned on his skin. Hundred questions answered and thousand new on the table.

Absolutely baffled, yet in his typical stoic style of keeping it together on the outside, while exploding internally, he couldn't bring himself to a more than..."Ah."

Oscar fully believed in the concept of soulmates and had no doubt that he would meet his, that's why he refrained from dating anyone who did not have the specific, very strange, words on their wrist.

"I want to break up"...? Why would this be the first thing you ever say to someone?

Over the time, he figured it would just be him overhearing the words. Or that he was one of the lucky ones, having a soulmate who has a special catch phrase they use when introducing to anyone new. He imagined his soulmate to be clever and cunning. And like the dreamer he was, he already had several versions of their meet up in his head, usually followed by their whole life together playing out. Oh, what a bliss when the moment would finally come.

But when it came, it took him totally of guard. Somehow, in all the scenarios he thought about his whole life, he missed probably the most realistic one. He was only trying to get back to his room and this girl was standing in the middle of the only clear pathway, as if it was nothing. She spoke with her back turned to him.

"I want to break up."

And when she turned around, after mistaking him for someone else, he saw a beautiful face, all puffy with smudged make up. And obviously in a really bad mood. He was, as they say, too stunned to speak.

"Ah." He said bluntly, too quickly for him to even notice it, processing the fact he just heard that one specific sentence, the one that should define the rest of his life.

She stared at him, as if he just offended her entire family. "What?!"

He felt..nothing. She couldn't be his soulmate. No way. Most likely because he had his response to "I want to break up" rehearsed his whole life. It was supposed to be "Worry not, now I am here." A lovely sentence to walk around with, right? He wanted his soulmate to wear the tattoo proudly, not with - what was it he even said? Did he even say something? He didn't, did he?

"Worry not, now I am here," he tried, feeling like he had nothing to loose. The words came out clumsily, as if they tripped over one another.

He was sure her face was already the most confused one could make, but she proved him wrong, quickly.

"Sorry, I'll leave you to it. This was obviously a misunderstanding," he said, trying to be polite and took few steps ahead to get going. She reacted and stepped right into his way.

This surely couldn't be it. But, emotions were running high, she thought she was addressing her boyfriend and was somehow trying to comprehend the fact she nearly broke up with him. And then she hears an "Ah." "What did you say?" she shot at him, no filter whatsoever, watching him with fascination and some flavor of anger.

Oscar was beginning to regret ever engaging in this conversation. "Worry not, now I am here...There, now, is that tattooed on your wrist? I imagine not, so, apologies and I'll leave you to whatever you're doing," he said, without giving her much space to respond. He felt slightly guilty about leaving an obviously distressed woman alone there, but his social awkwardness won this round and he just wanted this to be over.

"No, you didn't," she said, not intent on moving anywhere. Determined look replaced her sorrow.

"I'm pretty sure I did."

"And I am sure you didn't," she said, raising her wrist all the way to his eyeline. "You said this, didn't you?!"

It was not a tone of playful or even hopeful realization. Her delivery was spiced with unresolved anger that grew inside. He squeezed his eyes, having hard time seeing the small letters in the light of the nearing night. "What's that?"

She put her hand down, having a really hard time believing this was actually happening. It took him by surprise the speed with which she reached for his own hand, but his racer reflexes kicked in and he managed to avoid her.

Annoyed sigh left her mouth. "Will you show me your hand? I've already had a pretty shit day without you making obstructions."

He looked deeply in her eyes. This was a lot of emotion battling each others, little too much for Oscar.

"I'm pretty sure we're not soulmates," he said dryly.

"Tell me what's on your hand and I'll let you fuck off from when you came from."

"I'd actually like to go the other way-"

"Show me your hand!"

Visibly taken back, almost offended by her shouting, he reveled his wrist.

Time stopped for Y/N for few seconds. She was staring at the words she uttered just a minute ago. Decided to take a deep breath before she looked in his eyes once again. "Sorry for...screaming. We're almost definitely soulmates...You said "Ah." It felt good to finally know what kind of tone this sound was spoken with. End to the endless possibilities.

The irony of the fact that Oscar had a hard time remembering if he had actually said something so stupid dwelled on him. Did he? Knowing himself, he probably did.

"Ah," he repeated with a much heavier, slightly bitter, undertone.

"Yeah."

They just stood there, staring at each other. Was this suppose to be it? The moment he longed for and the one she already mourned? Just now she noticed that he was a gorgeous guy. Heavenly actually. Such a kind smile. Innocent look with a hint of spice. But she believed in love, not necessarily soulmates. Even if she did, this was the worst moment to do this. Little, almost invisible, tears started rolling from her eyes.

"Can I take a photo of you?" she asked, with defeated smile, wanting to walk away with a tangible evidence for her lonely evenings in the future.

Oscar was still processing. "Sure," he replied to a sentence he heard thousand times each month. Very automatically his body moved for a classic hug with a fan - which she rejected and just snapped a photo of his face.

"Nice to meet you. But I have my shit to deal with. I'm not good for you anyway," she said and sprinted back to he hotel room, to her current boyfriend and a deadend life. He just stood there, unable to comprehend. When he finally did, she was gone.

"Mr. Piastri, you understand that I can't just give you a room number to someone who you don't even know by name," the receptionist said, not backing down to his urgency.

"But she is my soulmate! She just passed by, surely you would know which one of the guests she is," he said, both hand on the counter, towering the poor reception lady.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop this request or we might be forced to cancel your stay and remove you from the premise."

He rolled his fingers into his first, mad at himself the most out of all the people. "Yeah. Great. Understood."

Y/N didn't sleep for a minute that night. When she returned back without a word, her boyfriend didn't even look up. She didn't really care.

"Let's just get through these few days," he said and she just nodded.

Mind racing around new set of eyes she memorized from the photo she had, not having a clue that he in fact was a racer.

Breakfast. Oscar's chance to take destiny into his own hands. He was the first one to arrive and planned on being the last one to leave. And should she miss her breakfast, he'd move into the lobby. Determined to talk to her at least one more time. Sat there, drinking his juice and bouncing his leg up to the point it annoyed even him.

He'd probably be at the breakfast, she realized as her sleep deprived body walked towards the elevator. A stolen glance at her partner. They hadn't said a word to each other the whole morning. To think she once thought one of them would bury the other after a nice full-filled life. Coffee and croissant was her only hope now. And of course the guy from yesterday was there. Sitting at a table, alone, very obviously finished with his breakfast. Arms crossed and eyeing all the entrances. She couldn't help but smile and light up when she saw him. He sat there. Waiting. Was there even a possibility he'd be waiting for her? Like a soulless ghost, she followed her current partner and sat down to the table he picked.

Oscar was a secret over-thinker. He spent every minute going through every possibility of what could happen. So of course he was ready, in theory, for her entering with another guy or a girl. However, the whole nature of her first sentence to him was about breaking up. And you don't say that in a healthy relationship.

It was now or never for him. He watched the pair grab a seat few tables away from him. God, she was gorgeous. Seeing her walk in, summer dress proving the internet was right once again, made him weak in his knees and unable to look away. She paused upon noticing him, eyes shyly flashing back and forth, absolutely no plan or idea what to do. Awkwardly put her things down the at the table, fumbled around aimlessly and proceeded to walk over the breakfast bar. As she walked, she could almost feel his eyes piercing through her back. For some reason, it felt as if he knew something she didn't. she had to actively convince herself to act normal, as if this was her first time having breakfast at a hotel. Copy others. Oscar did indeed stare at her as if there was no tomorrow. Eyes glued to her back, cosplaying as the worst private detective this planet ever produced. He found himself getting up and approaching the bar she was standing by, the guy she came in long gone from her close proximity.

Oscar gulped before speaking, standing right beside her, pretending to be interested in a stack of apples. Her eyes flashed to her left, but she already knew who was standing next to her. It was as if she could hear his energy, something divine, intoxicating and most importantly - inevitable.

"Morning....I hope you've had better night than when you left yesterday," he opened with, desperately trying to break the ice. He was absolutely hopeless with small talk. His tone created a small smile on her face. This sort strange and unique tonality, which was exceptionally hard to decipher, mixed with his Australian accent. Again, so many questions popping up in her head - her body wanted her to find out everything about this guy.

"I'm not sure that's the case. But thank you for asking I guess," she said and leaned over his hand to reach for a fresh peach. It was not her conscious decision to brush his hand, but it definitely could have been avoided. Neither party mattered. Two shy smiles were created at that moment.

"Would you mind sharing your name with me?" he asked, as she glanced over to his wrist, to look at his tattoo once again.

She answered, slightly hesitantly. "Y/N."

"Uuh,"

"Are interjections the only language you speak?" she whispered, still not over the whole "Ah." thing and finally stopped pretending to be interested in the breakfast bar. She did the best she could to meet his eye while not turning around and becoming too obvious.

Oscar was having trouble processing his body's reaction to this girl being so close now. "No, but I am happy you seem interested to know that."

It was impossible to fight of the smile. "I'm not, you're the reason I'm walking with this my whole life," she said, lifting her wrist once again.

He fiddled with some apples, trying to keep his hands busy. "I'd like to object that in this pair I'm the one who lost"

"Don't say the word pair," she said in a tone so unserious even she couldn't pretend to believe it.

"Why, does that idea make you nervous?" he clicked his tongue, feeling more confident with every second she stayed there with him.

"I have a boyfriend," she stated, lying to herself anyway.

He smirked. "Apologies, must have misread my own hand."

"I can't break up with someone on a holiday," she responded, reaching for straws, not even knowing why. She took two steps to the coffee line and to no surprise, he followed.

"You didnt seem to think as such yesterday," he said in more serious tone. "Look, I don't know you-"

"No, you don't," she jumped in before he continued.

"-But...let me present my hypotheses, so that we can test the whole soulmate thing. Does that not make you at least a bit excited?" he said, trying to hide his own excitement, which was something he did not have to do often, so he was not really good at it.

She found his confidence mixed with clumsiness so intoxicating. "It's overrated," she argued, perhaps trying to see how much he's willing to defend it.

"I'm so much looking forward to proving that theory wrong." There is was. The point of no return.

"Well before you do," she bit her smile, accidentally leaving a pause for him to fill.

"Ah, so you believe that I will," he said sith his signature "I won" smile.

"Again, with the interjections, you gotta unlearn that," she said, happy he couldn't see directly into her face, as she felt the blush spreading.

"Teach me."

"Stop it...." she froze, searching in memory a moment when he'd introduce himself.

"Oscar."

She finally paused and dared to look at him, or more specifically stopped resisting her wondering eyes. Her mind rushed through all the Oscar's she had the pleasure to meet and absolutely none of them did justice to the name. His kind eyes, while somewhat giving shy guy vibes, pierced through her fearlessly. So sure of himself, et somehow humble. An impossible enigma she could see herself deciphering for the rest of her life.

"Nice name," she said, in a completely new tone, one he hadn't heard yet. Calm, kind and intrigued.

"Thank you." They stared at each other for few more moment, utterly inappropriately for two strangers in a coffee line. Taking in the little intricacies about the other, as if memorizing for a test.

"You said you had a hypotheses?" she broke silence, not quite sure they were at the same planet as their surroundings anymore. All around them sort of blended together into an unclear, totally unimportant mush.

"I do. Hope I don't overstep."

"I think that does not matter now," she said, walls crumbling down one by one.

"Good. I think you don't want to break up with your current boyfriend now that you'd met me," he said boldly.

"Astonishingly obnoxious," she teased, unable to believe he caught her.

"Fair. But, yesterday you wanted to. Now, it serves like a perfect excuse why run away from this," he said and stepped just a little bit closer to her.

"I don't want to be a slave of some destiny bullshit," she said, while absolutely agreeing with destiny this time.

There was no way back for Oscar. Looking into her eyes was making him drown in lands never explored before. "Yes, but why reject it before we even get the chance to discover if we like each other."

"I don't even know you."

"Your parents didn't know each other at one point," he said matter-o-factly.

The reality was creeping into her mind. "I hardly know anything about you! Like where you live, what you do..."

He was not letting her go. "All over the globe, I am a racing driver. You?"

How come it seemed so easy and obvious for him? "Oscar, I'm..I'm scared." Intimidated was the word she wanted to use, but it felt a little bit too much.

"Of what?"

"I dunno...? Of this working out?"

"Do you realize that sounds quite ridiculous."

"...Yes".

"Well, I believe this is going to be great fun. Listen, it's not socially acceptable for me to bother you for longer. But I desperately hope this is not the last conversation we share," he lowered his voice, parting ways with her being the last thing he actually wanted to do, but his intuition told him, that he had to give her some space to come forward to his, her decision.

Y/N's head was a mess, truth slipping through, passing all the filters that seemed to have stopped working. "I am afraid it's not."

He smiled. "Good. Now, I'll leave you to your life - do whichever you think is right. But please give me your number."

"No, you give me yours so that I can call you when i want to. You know, boundaries," she ordered, trying to keep some control in her hands.

He trusted his gut. "Fair."

"Lady, I can't tell you where's Oscar's room." It was a different receptionist that Oscar had dealt with, but probably with the same training.

"But it's a suprise! Look, I have his number an everything."

"Why don't you call him?"

"You're familiar with the concept of a surprise?"

Unlike Oscar, she managed to convince the reception into giving her Oscar's room number. It was all the way up at the last floor. Fancy, she thought. It's impossible to convey the energy and adrenaline cocktail that Y/N was on when she was on the way to knock on his room and announce that she actually went though with the break up and the guy was on his way home, cutting the vacation early. It was unhinged, reckless, addictive. She had to stop herself several times, as the excitement mixed with fear was making her put on faces very strange to anyone who should pass by. If music was on, she'd dance for hours. Hell, she had no idea what was suppose to happen now. And that had never felt so exhilarating before.

With one last breath before her life changed for good, she knocked on the door.

After the longest few seconds ever experienced on this planet, he finally opened the door.

She physically couldn't hold it anymore. "I broke up with him," she blurted out the moment their eyes met.

Oscar tried to take in the image of his soulmate, standing there in front of him, flustered and ready to take the leap with him, once again, having trouble holding his smile in.

"Ah."

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 one shot #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #formula 1 fluff #formula one x reader #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #soulmate au #f1 soulmate au #oscar piastri imagine #formula 1

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sweetfushi · 2 days

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CONFESSING TO THEM

fluff | tengen uzui, kyojuro rengoku, sanemi shinazugawa x reader, reader nearly dies, tengen has three wives and you're tryna become his fourth | word count. 1.4k

TENGEN UZUI.

You know he’s married, thrice too. But sitting next to Tengen and watching him observe the Koi in the pond, a subtle smile on his face, warms your chest. You don’t realise that you’d started gazing at him longingly until he catches you, turning to you with a big grin. The beads of his headpiece rattled in the wind alongside your flowing hair.

“Tengen,” you start, voice meek and apprehensive, “I know you’re… married, but um, I don’t think I can continue our friendship if I don’t tell you.” At this point, your voice trails off into a whisper he has to lean in to hear. You almost outwardly giggle at the close proximity.

“You like me, huh?”

“What? Did you– have you known all along?” You huff and grab a nearby pebble to throw at him, only for it to bounce off his bicep in the midst of his snickers.

“I’d feel bad for you if you had tried to be subtle about it,” Tengen teases, leaning in closer until your faces are centimetres apart. When he sees your flushed expression, he shakes his head and rests his right cheek on his fist. “I can’t blame ya for failing though, it was hard for me too.”

You sit upright. “Wait, what?”

“Y’re pretty ditzy today, eh?”

You’re tempted to slash the charming smirk off his face. For the first time since the conversation started, you lock eyes with him (albeit having to almost painfully crane your neck to do so). From the way he maintains your gaze and lets you witness the boyish glint in his eyes, you’re convinced he isn’t lying to you with what he’s implying.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while now,” he admits, stretching his arms. “So I’m glad you’re not threatened by the idea.”

You purse your lips. “How are you going to deal with four wives?”

Tengen glances at you from the corner of his eye, grinning. “You mean it’s harder than handling three? My wives are my partners, not liabilities. You’d be no different.”

You lower your head to hide your impending smile, though he catches your expression even when you don’t think he does. If anything, he’s eager to witness more of your excitement. He finds it adorable that you can barely look him in the eye, even when he gets on one knee in front of you. He’s not proposing - your conversation already acted as one - instead, he wants to see your face. Tengen wants to see what he’s doing to you.

“Ring or necklace?” He asks.

You contemplate it before telling him your choice.

“Consider it done.”

KYOJURO RENGOKU.

“You must eat,” Rengoku tells you in that booming voice of his. He’s already scoffing down two of the bentos that had been provided to him by the cooks, but you had barely touched your food. You were starving, but your nerves overshadowed your hunger.

“I will,” you nod.

A minute goes by and all that is heard is Rengoku’s small comments on the food; tasty, yummy, delicious, incredible. Whenever he stares at you, you nod and smile along with him, but you notice his smile drop slightly further every time he does look at you.

“Is something the matter?” He chimes in, disturbing your racing thoughts. At this point, he’s stopped eating and is just waiting for you to answer, but for the past ten minutes you had been trying to plot how to go about telling him. I’ll never end up telling him at this point, you realise. So, you sip some of your water, place it back down on the coaster and lift your head to face him directly.

“I like you, Rengoku.”

For a moment, it’s silent. “And I don’t want that to make what we have weird, I even considered not telling you because I don’t wanna lose you, but if I don’t tell you it feels like I’m lying to you–”

“You stress too much,” he smiles, watching your throat bob as you swallow thickly. The flame hashira can sense your impending tears and feels oddly honoured that he had the ability to make them happy or sad ones.

Now that you reflect on what you’ve just done, you perhaps should have waited until the two of you - or he at least - had finished eating. Feelings like this are hard to stomach, especially from one hashira to another. While you’re contemplating your confession, you feel his gaze burn into you and, somehow, you find the strength within yourself to not avoid it.

“I’m sorry, I’ll pay for our food as compensation–”

“Compensation for what?” He laughs, your heart aching at the sight of such a brightly lit expression. “If anything, I need to eat more from how overjoyed I am.”

You pause. “Overjoyed?”

“That might be an understatement, but I can’t find the words at the moment,” he admits, that smile still stuck on his face. What you had yet to realise throughout these two years was that Rengoku had admired you the most out of everyone he had met. Yes, Tengen was flashy and Tokito was level-headed, but out of all the esteemed hashira, his flame had been ignited the most around you. Only now could he let it burn as it wished.

“I like you too, very much.”

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA.

“Stop looking like that,” he taps the blunt side of his katana on your arm, knocking you out of your daze - the daze you had been in the entirety of this dispatch. It wasn’t anything major, a few rowdy demons that have been unsettling the village near to the woods you were currently in, but Sanemi had insisted that he accompany you for it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, sheathing your own katana after having wiped it clean of blood.

Sanemi eyes you for a moment. He knows you’re mature enough to handle yourself and manage your emotions, though he’s come to realise that it doesn’t mean you should be left to do so. So, the scarred hashira doesn’t prod further. Not until you fail to register the unexpected demon launching at you from behind, teeth bared and eyes maniacal.

“You’re askin’ to be killed, damn it!” He finally yells, his brows furrowed from the sheer adrenaline and anxiety he just endured. Sanemi never truly yells at you unless he’s unmistakably upset, so his raised voice makes your lips part and your eyes widen with a late registry of what risk you had induced.

“You wanna be in your feelings? Fine, just don’t do it when you’re out to work! At this rate, we’ll need backup just to make sure your reckless ass is bein’ protected with those villagers!” He’s breathing heavily at this point, his face in yours as he heaves and trembles.

Sanemi is still unsettled even when the two of you finally return to base, washing up and filling your stomachs during the last few hours before you’d call it a day. When you wander out into the pond gardens, your arms crossed over your chest to shield yourself from the night’s breeze, you almost turn the other direction when you spot Sanemi squatting at the edge of one of the smaller pools of water. He’s skipping rocks, watching them dance across the water, or occasionally fail to do so and fall into the pond or onto a lilypad instead.

“Don’t try and avoid me now,” he sighs guiltily, observing his reflection in the water momentarily before rising to his feet and turning to face you. “I shouldn’t…” he scratches the back of his neck. He’s not used to apologising for something he usually does so casually. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he confesses.

“No, I’m glad you did,” you admit, licking your lips. “I like you too much for you to act like you don’t care about me. You’ve noticed, surely.”

Sanemi isn’t sure he has noticed. That thought alone made him kiss his teeth - had he been so distracted by his own feelings to notice yours? The question raided his mind for a few moments while you, unbeknownst to him, watched as his lips pursed and his cheeks flushed a light pink.

Was he seriously blushing? This is so uncharacteristic of him, you think, a smile finally gracing your lips for the first time that day. For a moment, you’re more invested in him blushing than you are in the acknowledgement that he reciprocates your feelings.

He walks over to you, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes. He doesn’t stop until his chest almost touches yours and his face is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m g’nna kick your ass for today,” he scoffs. “After I take you out…” he almost looks angry at his own embarrassment.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 hours

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Injured (Alexia's Version): Future II

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You go to Manuelas

TW: using sex to reinforce ideas of low self-worth, mentions of eating disorder

You didn't come to Manuelas often.

It was a bad idea, drinking in the club Olga owned. All of the workers knew who you were, dragged out on staff dinners and in the background of Olga's video meetings.

There's no way you could get in without someone noticing who you were.

It's not that you were banned. If anything, Mami and Olga would probably prefer it if you did your drinking in the safe walls of Manuelas where the staff would call them if you needed a pick up.

It would be fine if drinking was all that you were doing.

But you don't go to clubs for the drinks. In fact, you don't even really like the taste of alcohol all that much. It was a means to an end, getting you tipsy enough to approach someone in the crowd. But that was only if you weren't approached first.

And you were almost always approached first.

It was easy now, a practiced routine.

You'd go into a club, hang around at the bar for a bit before going onto the dance floor where, no doubt, some older woman would come over and offer to buy you a drink.

It was practiced. It was easy.

It was self destructive.

You knew why you came to these clubs. You knew what you came there for.

You wanted it quick and rough. You wanted to be demeaned and talked down to because it made you feel better that you weren't the only one that saw yourself like that.

Hooking up in club toilets with a woman double your age that couldn't care less about you made you feel better at yourself.

You couldn't do that Manuelas.

Or, you couldn't do that at Manuelas on days when Olga or her close circle were skulking around, which was almost every weekend.

The only reason you were here now was because your usual club wasn't open today and after another day of brutal practice with no end in sight, you needed to feel something.

Even if it was some woman's hand around you as she took you hard and rough and whispered filthy things in your ear.

You should go home, you know. You should go home to your Mami and let her wrap you up in a warm hug and let her tell you that you were worth something and that she loved you.

But you were here.

At Manuelas on a day you knew Olga was at home and her closest staff were busy in a meeting in the back room.

Or, at least, they should be.

Alexia sighs as Olga pulls her in through the open backdoor.

"I am old, amor," She says with a small huff of laughter," My old bones cannot take going to the club anymore."

It's a joke, nothing more than teasing and Olga rolls her eyes.

"Not even my club?"

"Well," Alexia says," If it's your club..."

With Jaume at a youth camp for the week and you staying over at your friend's, the house had been blissfully silent and all too empty.

She and Olga had a nice dinner before growing restless. It didn't suit the family, Alexia thinks, to have the house devoid of her kids.

Olga wasn't due to go in to the meeting at Manuelas but that didn't mean she thought going there was a bad idea which was how Alexia found herself there now, nursing a drink in one hand and holding whatever fruity cocktail Olga had chosen in the other.

Manuelas had come a long way from the pop up club it used to be, now boasting several permanent bases in the country. Alexia was still glad though that one thing stayed the same - namely the fact that she got free drinks.

It certainly payed to be the wife of the owner.

Olga's gone off to greet a few people upstairs, despite denying the fact that this was all a ploy to see how the meeting was going.

Alexia's left downstairs by herself and does what she does best.

People watch.

Manuelas is still exactly like it was when it was first opened, a throng of dancers grinding and making out on the dancefloor.

The same as practically every other lesbian club in the city.

There's nothing unusual about it but Alexia still leans against the bar and surveys the crowd.

There's movement (or rather more movement than normal) to the left of the crowd as a pair breaks out of the dancing.

It's hard to see in the low light but Alexia feels a bolt of lightning shoot down her spine before she's even computed what she's looking at.

You're pressed up against the wall, head tilted to the side as a woman kisses your neck.

You're meant to be at a friend's house. That's what you've told Alexia.

You were going over to a friend's house after practice and you would be staying the night.

But clearly, you're not because you're here.

At Olga's club with a woman that is so clearly not your age whispering filthy things to you.

Alexia's moving towards you without a second thought and you open half lidded eyes to look at her.

You jolt suddenly, straightening up and pushing the woman away from your neck when you notice Alexia there.

She's not meant to be here and you look around wildly because you know if Mami's here then Olga's around here somewhere too.

Your face floods with embarrassment and you leave your partner for the evening.

Even now, Alexia's angry face makes you feel like a little girl again. Like that same little girl who sat in her car seat after another failed football training.

Like the same stupid teenager who starved herself to fit into a shirt that Alexia accidentally bought one size too small.

"Mami..." You say, throat bobbing," I-"

"Are you okay?" Alexia asks you, cupping your face," Are you safe?"

"Mami...I..."

"Bambi," Alexia says, her eyes boring into yours," Talk to me. Are you alright?"

"I..." Your throat bobs and you're right back to that little girl again, the one staring up at Alexia as she grins down at you, that stupid teenager that had once sobbed in her arms after hurting your ankle during practice. "I want to go home, Mami. Please take me home."

Alexia looks into your eyes. You're not drunk, maybe a little tipsy but definitely not drunk. You're not high either. No one's laced anything you've taken.

You're still trembling though and your head falls forward onto Alexia's shoulder, to hide the way tears fall down your cheeks.

You don't know why you're crying. You don't know why you're suddenly so emotional.

You'd set out this evening to hook up with someone, feeling so bad and wrong in your own skin that you needed someone's body pressed up against yours to feel good about yourself again.

You still want that. Just not with a partner.

You want a hug from Mami, curled up next to her in bed at home. You want her to hold you and tell you how much she loves you and how she's never going to let anything bad happen to you.

You're an adult now.

You shouldn't feel this way.

But you're always going to be that little girl that craved love from your Mami.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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minbells · 2 days

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Megumi who doesn’t think there’s anything more breathtaking than the sight of you in this very moment. And yet, there’s nothing too extravagant nor inappropriately enticing about what you’re doing. You’re just, there. And that’s enough for his heart to start racing.

"Can’t sleep?" he attempts a greeting, and you turn your head towards him, surprised to see him up and on the same roof as you in the late hours of night. You have a book on your lap and your fluffy blanket is loose around your shoulders. As he gets closer he can spot goosebumps on your skin. You sleepily smile up at him, your legs dangling on the side of the rooftop and he almost wants to scold you from sitting too close to the edge. Instead his heart just melts because you look absolutely adorable and he wants to kiss you.

"Yeah, it’s just harder to fall asleep some nights," you hum, and you catch an understanding nod from him as he settles next to you. You stay silent for a little bit, book forgotten, and you both stare at the leaves rustling with the wind, appreciating how quiet and secluded Jujutsu Tech is, especially at night. The moon peaks through heavy clouds and your features are enhanced by the gentle glow — Megumi has to slightly shake his head to suppress the lovesick smile that threatens to appear on his lips. Lord, why does he only lose his cool around you?

"We should do something tomorrow," you suddenly blurt out after a long yawn, and it immediately triggers a blush on his cheeks. "You know, we never really hang out just the two of us."

"We’re hanging out right now," he responds before he could stop himself, and you smile sheepishly, turning towards him in an attempt to catch the look on his face. Dread is what you see, because why the hell did he say that? He almost wants to slap himself for his smart ass comment, but you just smile gently at him and all thoughts leave his head at the sight.

"I know, but I mean we should do something when we’re less sleep deprived and stores are actually open. We could go that arcade Yuuji always talks about, win tons of plushies and get into a food coma," your eyes sparkle slightly at the idea — you are so cute — but then you seem to come to your senses. "I mean, we could also do something more, uh, mature I guess, like taking a walk or something, I don’t know… do your demon dogs like to be walked?," you ramble and he finds it so endearing he almost doesn’t realize that you just asked him out.

Wait, did you just asked him out? And then he blurts it out; "Are you asking me out?," and part of him wants to jump off that roof because why is he so awkward about those things meanwhile you’re an absolute angel. There’s a few seconds of silent where your eyes just widen at him and you pull the blanket closer to your body, feeling slightly smaller under the pressure of his question.

"I- I mean," you trail off, avoiding his intense stare at all cost and finding a sudden interest in picking at the dirt under your nails. But then you remember that it’s Megumi, one of the most practical and calculated guy you know, always so unbothered — unless it comes to you, although you’re unaware of the effect you have on him — and you have a feeling that if you’re not completely clear about what you want he’s probably never going to do anything about it.

And so you find enough confidence in yourself to say what you really want to say. "Yes, I’m asking you out. On a date."

Again, the silence is heavy. You wonder if you came on too strong, if you’ve misread the connection that you’ve always felt with him. This wasn’t your first late night talk, and usually you would always train together. You were always close, and you definitely thought that there was something more that the two of you could share together. Meanwhile, he wonders if you’re joking, or maybe you’re sleepwalking and that’s why you ended up on the roof telling him things he would only dream about.

"You don’t have to, you know…" you try not to sound too disappointed.

"I would love to," he responds immediately, almost eagerly, and he scrambles for anything more coherent to say, but your whole face just lights up and you smile so bright at him that all his worries and awkwardness just melts away at the sight of your happiness. Your smile is exactly what he needed to boost his confidence.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven after training, at your dorm," he says right before he loses his cool demeanour again, not realizing that his cheeks are pink and the tip of his ears red, heart pounding and hands suddenly sweaty — yeah he’s definitely not unbothered by you.

You happily lean in and kiss his cheek, only adding to the fire that’s already raging in his soul. "I can’t wait! What should I wear? I’ll ask Nobara… see you tomorrow, Megumi," you stand and leave, almost with a skip in your step, and he’s dumbfounded, completely lost in the moment, staring ahead with nothing but the sound of your lovely voice echoing in his head, saying his first name for the first time.

He’s left smiling so bright his cheeks hurt.

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #reader #fluff #fushiguro x reader

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afterglowkatie · 2 days

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no one but you | k.c.c.

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 4k | you and kyra finally confess your feelings for each other

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the pair of pests universe. you can thank my sudden lack of desire to sleep lately, definitely not posting this at almost 3am, and to focus solely on getting my energy out through writing to have this part now and for how long it is! please let me know what you think! hope you enjoy it! :)

Leah carefully slipped out from underneath you, careful not to wake you up just yet. She ended up staying the night, not feeling comfortable leaving you in the state that you had found yourself in. The mix of the alcohol and mental exhaustion had you passing out fairly quickly and easily once Leah had gotten you into comfy clothes and settled down into bed.

She had thought about sleeping on the couch but she knew that you needed more than just a presence in the house. You needed to feel safe and holding you while you slept seemed to ease her worries about you a little bit as well as make you more comfortable and content to ignore your thoughts and let yourself sleep.

Leah knew you were in no state last night to talk about anything but she knew she would have to bring it up today. You caught her off guard but she held nothing against you and your actions. The rare moment you let down your walls, Leah could see a world of pain hiding behind your eyes.

All of the thoughts and feelings you had pushed away to deal with at a later time had caught up with you, not being able to hold it all in any longer. You were, in a way, glad that it happened with Leah of all people and not someone random and glad it didn’t happen with Kyra in that way.

Leah opened your bedroom door, instantly being met with a smell coming from the kitchen that made her own stomach grumble. Steph had come home not that long after Leah had taken you back to the apartment. After you left, Kyra didn’t stick around and then the rest of the girls started to make their way back to their own homes.

‘Oh, morning Leah,’ Steph eyed Leah quizzically, noticing that she was in the same clothes she had worn last night, ‘I didn’t know you stayed, there’s enough here for you as well,’ Steph got out another plate and sorted out breakfast for the three of you.

‘Yeah,’ Leah breathed out slightly while grabbing a cup to get some water for you knowing that you would definitely be needing it this morning. Leah didn’t want to tell Steph about the kiss last night, especially not without talking to you about it first, ‘Just wanted to make sure she was okay, put a movie on, it was late,’ Leah trailed off, mumbling an excuse so Steph didn’t get the wrong idea while not giving away what exactly happened.

‘Leah, chill,’ Steph laughed, amused at the rambling, ‘It’s obvious nothing happened, I’ve never seen you look at her that way. Even last night while dancing I noticed you still tried to keep a slight distance between you both,’ Leah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, thankful she wasn’t on the end of a different kind of conversation, ‘Plus if anyone, even you, tried anything on her when she was that drunk would have a death wish by me,’

‘She’s in safe hands with me,’ Leah was genuine, she had known you for as long as she’d known Steph, you were a good friend to Leah.

‘I know,’ Steph smiled at Leah, ‘By the way, how is she?’ The one question Leah didn’t want to be asked right now. She really didn’t know how to answer. You weren’t okay, that much was clear, but she didn’t want to worry your sister just yet.

‘I’m going to talk to her,’ Leah half smiled and Steph nodded in understanding, not pushing anything further. Steph had planned on talking to you but she would leave it up to Leah, fully trusting her and trusting that if need be either you or Leah would go to Steph, ‘I’ll come grab the plates once she’s woken up,’ Steph put two of the plates in the oven to keep them warm.

Leah made her way back to your room, smiling when she saw Calvin sitting at your bedroom door softly whining wanting to be let in. You normally slept with your door slightly open so Calvin could come and go as he wanted. Apart from Kyra, Calvin was your favourite cuddle buddy, ‘She’s going to need all your love, you think you can do that?’ Leah ran her hand over the top of his head while Calvin looked up at her wagging his tail knowing she was going to open the door soon enough.

‘Mornin’ Calvy,’ You groaned, waking up to the weight of the dog jumping on top of you accompanied by the slobber he was leaving on your face. Though his presence made you smile and you gave him the biggest hug you could manage having still only just woken up.

Though your bubble that existed of just you and Calvin burst when you noticed Leah’s figure still standing in the doorway moving to close the door behind her. Your face heated up remembering about the kiss from last night. You hid your head under your pillow, groaning and wishing that you could suddenly disappear from the inevitable conversation you were about to have with Leah.

‘C’mon you don’t have to hide from me,’ Leah’s voice was softer than usual, setting the water down on the side table. Sitting down on the bed next to you, Leah gently lifted the pillow off your head, a small reassuring smile from Leah that contrasted the frown your own lips were making, ‘There you are,’

You rolled your eyes, moving your body to sit up against the headboard, hugging your pillow close while Calvin curled up at the end, laying on your feet. You sighed, putting your head into your hands, ‘I’m sorry, Leah,’ You mumbled into the pillow, Leah only just catching exactly what you had said.

‘You don’t have to apologise,’ Leah started off, her hand resting gently on your back, her touch grounding you from the thoughts that were starting to swirl around your head again, ‘Just talk to me, what’s going on up there?’

You sighed softly, moving so you were sitting cross legged and facing Leah. Nervously you were chewing on your bottom lip, not knowing where to start. Wondering if you should address the kiss or just blurt out your newly realised feelings for your best friend. You started fidgeting with your fingers, looking down before deciding on how you were going to approach or put into words how you were feeling.

‘I like Kyra,’ You mumbled. It felt different actually saying it from just thinking it. It both overwhelmed you and felt like a weight was being lifted from your shoulders. You could actually say it, but then when you said it that’s when it felt even more real. The realness of it all is what overwhelmed you. You still thought that Kyra liked someone that wasn’t you. Maybe if you talked about your feelings it’ll be easier for you to get over them and carry on as if you didn’t like your best friend.

‘Hate to break it to you but I’m not Kyra,’ Leah smirked, your face tinting a slight pink when you realised she was referring to the kiss last night. Not that you would tell Leah, but when you kissed her you were only thinking of Kyra.

‘Oh shut up,’ You threw the pillow at Leah, smiling and laughing a little, ‘Just forget about it,’ You shook your head, hiding again back in the comfort of your hands.

‘Not a chance. I’ll keep it between us for now though,’ You didn’t expect Leah to go tell everyone about it but relief flooded your body at her words, instantly relaxing back into the bed, ‘You’ve got soft lips by the way, Kyra will be lucky when she gets the chance to feel them,’

‘God you’re so annoying,’ You rolled your eyes, pushing Leah’s arm slightly, ‘I think she likes someone else anyway,’ Leah watched you deflate, your smile dropping off your face, moving to pull you into her side, rubbing your side gently.

‘Are you serious?’ Leah’s eyebrows raised while she looked down at you. You returned her gaze but confusion was visible on your face, ‘Have you not seen the way Kyra looks at you? That girl really likes you, it’s so obvious,’ Leah’s words got into your head. You started thinking back through your previous recent interactions with Kyra. You didn’t want to overthink or read into things too much, but there could be a chance that everything wasn’t as friendly as you thought it to be.

You didn’t know what to think though. Everything was still so confusing for you and you felt your head start to spin again with all the what ifs. You didn’t want to ruin anything you had with Kyra, but you knew you couldn’t keep going on only just being her friend. Even if you could magically wake up one day and all your romantic feelings towards Kyra would be gone, there’s a part of you that wouldn’t even want that. You love and hate the way you feel for her.

‘I don’t know, Le,’ You sighed, laying your head on Leah’s shoulder, running your hand over your face.

‘I think you just need to talk to her. I know it’s scary but it’s what’s best for the both of you. I’m not letting you run off and try to get a transfer just because you don’t want to face this,’ It was like Leah could read your mind. Not liking that she knows you well enough to know that you’d rather run from your problems than face them head on, ‘I’ll always support you. You have me, Steph and all your teammates both club and country to lean on. We’ve all got you, no matter what,’

Leah always had a way with her words, knowing what to say to make you feel better. You knew you had people who would listen and support you, but you hate leaning on others and feeling like you’re burdening them when they have their own life to deal with. But you know, in the back of your mind, that you need to learn to not try to deal with things on your own, it would make your life a lot easier to accept the support that’s given to you, ‘Thank you, Le,’

A few days had passed by and neither you or Kyra reached out to each other. Even though the both of you went to send a message or call the other, you both would delete the text or lock your phone and throw it away before actually doing it. You knew that you had to talk to her before the next training day or there would be more questions as to why you and Kyra weren’t glued to each other.

You were scared to have a serious conversation with her, one that you didn’t know how it would go. Not being able to control the situation made you nervous, so you held back on reaching out to Kyra until the very last possible day to do so. Kyra on the other hand still couldn’t figure out what she had done wrong. Still thinking about the other night and how you hadn’t even gone up to her.

Granted you weren’t completely to blame, she knows she could’ve gone up to you. But it felt like you were purposely avoiding her and she didn’t like that. Those few days where Kyra didn’t hear a single thing from you or about you were the worst for her. She spent many hours each day picking up her phone, going in and out of your contact, drafting multiple messages just to delete them. Thinking that if you wanted to hear from her you would’ve reached out by now.

But the thing that worried Kyra was that there was no trace of you anywhere online, she checked your socials multiple times each day. You were normally quite active when you had time to yourself. If not posting anything, you would be stalking the fans and leaving comments here and there on your fans posts on tiktok and instagram.

There was nothing though. Even the fans had started talking online, some thinking your silence was concerning and others thinking you were finally having some time to yourself and telling others to stop their theories and rumours.

There was training tomorrow and if Kyra didn’t hear from you today then she would wait to see you in person tomorrow. Though it was hard to be away from you. Kyra wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in you watching movies and laughing just like it used to be.

What Kyra didn’t expect that day was to hear knocking at her front door. She frowned, not expecting anyone and thinking it was one of her neighbours or some sort of emergency. Her eyes went wide and a small smile ghosted her lips when she saw you standing at her front door. She frowned a little seeing you had Calvin with you, knowing that you didn’t live that close to each other. Kyra knew something was wrong, you only ever walked for a long time if you needed to clear your mind.

‘Hi Ky,’ A small smile on your lips, your voice was soft. Kyra relaxed hearing your voice, it had been days since she heard it. Doing her best to not wrap her arms around you and pull you into a hug, she stayed fidgeting with the door handle, ‘Steph and Dean are out tonight. Did you want to come help me pet sit this little guy here? We can have a movie night?’ You leaned down, patting Calvin’s head, smiling down at him, your voice was still quite soft and there was a hint of hesitation in your voice.

‘I would never say no to a night with you and little Calvy. My two favourites,’ You relaxed when Kyra agreed to come over. You knew she at least wasn’t that upset with you, even if you hadn’t talked to her in a few days and completely ignored her at the night out.

‘I won’t tell Harper that we’re your favourites and not her,’ You joked, laughing a little, causing Kyra to smile more. She missed you so much, not realising just how much until you were in front of her again. Your laugh sending a swarm of butterflies into her stomach, you noticed the way she was looking at you. You closed the gap and pulled her in, hugging her as best you could while still holding Calvin’s leash.

Kyra melted into your embrace, not wanting to let you go. The two of you stood there, arms around each other, neither of you wanting to let go of the other. Only pulling apart when Calvin started to whine and pull on the leash to get your attention.

Kyra offered to drive you all back to Steph’s apartment, you were grateful since you had used all the energy you had left to walk to Kyra’s in the first place. The two of you settled into a routine as if you hadn’t been apart from each other, as if nothing from the previous week had happened. You were both awfully good at pretending and awfully good at secretly, not so secretly, pining for the other.

The night had been going just like it normally would when you and Kyra would hang out together. You’d put on a movie, ordered some takeout, and now you were cuddling together on the couch. Kyra’s arm wrapped around you keeping you nestled against her side, your legs were on top of hers and your head laid against her shoulder.

The only difference was about halfway through the movie you started to fidget with your fingers. In the back of your mind you knew you had to talk to Kyra about how you felt. You wanted to push it back again, especially since you both seemed to be acting like normal again.

Kyra was anything but normal when you were so close to her like this. Her heart was racing and if your head was pressed against her chest instead of her shoulder you definitely would’ve been able to hear it. Kyra noticed your fidgeting and gave you her hand so you could play with her fingers instead.

You weren’t paying any attention to the movie now. Instead focusing on how Kyra’s hand felt in yours, how her fingers were so soft and how you liked having her hand in yours. Things you wouldn’t have thought twice about, were all you could think about since you realised and accepted your feelings for Kyra.

‘Are you okay?’ Kyra’s voice was full of concern, whispering in your ear. Her breath on you made a slight shiver run down your spin and your breath hitch slightly. You took a moment before answering.

‘I’m sorry for the other night. I didn’t mean to act the way I did, I don’t even know why I did,’ A small lie but Kyra wouldn’t know that, you knew exactly why you acted the way you did but you didn’t want to lead straight into it, ‘I’m just sorry, you didn’t deserve that,’ You weren’t the best at apologising, never knowing exactly what to say but you looked up at Kyra and she could see in your eyes that you meant every word, even the ones you didn’t say but she could see.

‘It’s okay. I was really looking forward to spending that night with you. But it’s really okay, there’ll be other nights anyway,’ Kyra shrugged a little. You had hurt her with how you acted towards her, but she could’ve come to you earlier to sort things out. She had you back right now and she really just wanted to move on, ‘Plus I prefer this, getting to spend time with just you and no one else around,’ You looked down at your fingers entwined with hers not wanting Kyra to see how your face flushed a little at her words.

You sat up a little and turned more on your side so you were looking at her, ‘So, do you like her?’ Your face was full of questioning, your voice was quiet not wanting to be crushed by Kyra’s response.

‘Who?’ Kyra looked at you, slight confusion on her face, wondering who you could be talking about. Apart from this week when you were both not talking to each other, she only ever spent time with you. Charli had been teasing Kyra lately for never spending time with anyone else but you.

‘Lia. The night we all went out, you guys seemed quite close,’ Kyra’s smile dropped a little and she looked down at the two of you. The way you were cuddling, thinking about how she’d follow you around wanting to be as close as possible to you, Kyra wanted to cry out in frustration how you couldn’t see that she liked you. Not understanding how you couldn’t see that but you could see and think she would like anyone else that wasn’t you.

‘No, we’re just friends. You know she’s been helping me a lot since I joined Arsenal,’ Kyra had paused the movie now, not wanting any other distractions right now, ‘If we’re talking about the other night, then what about you and Leah? All over her on the dance floor and I saw the two of you leave together,’

‘I just wanted to dance,’ You shrugged off Kyra’s comment and ignored the last part. Not wanting to bring up how you kissed Leah, that would definitely ruin you telling Kyra that you liked her. Not wanting to bring up how Leah helped you accept your feelings for Kyra and helped you believe that Kyra could like you back, not letting you run from your feelings.

‘You could’ve danced with me,’ Kyra was quick with her words, making you look back up at her, ‘I always love dancing with you,’ It was now Kyra’s turn to be the one fidgeting with your fingers. A small smile took over your lips, you missed the way Kyra glanced down at your lips before back up to your eyes. The best memories you had always involved you and Kyra dancing around together.

The times you’d dance around your bedroom, sometimes the only music would be whatever you decided to sing or noises you wanted to make and Kyra would go along with it. The times you’d be out and you’d end your nights dancing with each other, the music and Kyra being only things existing to you in those moments. The times you’d be cooking for the two of you and Kyra would put on a song and whisk you away to dance around the kitchen together, you’d burnt a lot of food being wrapped up in each other.

You probably should’ve realised earlier how you felt for her, and realised how she felt for you. If anyone was to ever witness those moments where it was just you and Kyra alone together, they would’ve thought you were actually together and more than just best friends.

‘So you don’t like Lia and you don’t have a crush on anyone,’ Your voice trailed off towards the end. Hoping that Kyra would talk and prove your accusation wrong. Hoping that she would say she liked you before you admitted to liking her first.

‘Well, I never said that I didn’t have a crush on anyone,’ Kyra smirked, leaning further back into the couch. This caught your interest. Kyra didn’t seem to have any attention to continue on and give away just who her crush was. You knew if you had a chance to potentially get the information you wanted out of her, then you were going to have to prompt her.

‘What are they like? Is it another footballer?’ You twisted your body a bit more, you were practically half on top of Kyra at this point. Leaning a bit closer towards Kyra, you had your hopes up, but not too much just in case you were wrong about this and you still wanted to protect yourself from being crushed if you were wrong.

‘Well, she’s just the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Her smile lights up the room and whenever I hear her name announced at matches and the way she interacts with fans, it makes me smile,’ Kyra sighed a little bit, her face heating up a little and heart racing a bit faster knowing that she was about to tell you in her own way that it was you, ‘She just understands me in a way that no one else does. She’s my best friend and I love spending so much time with her,’

Kyra was smiling softly at you, her hand had reached up now cupping your cheek, her thumb rubbing along your soft skin gently. In this moment, it was just you and her, nothing else mattered, ‘Ky,’ You breathed out shakily, smiling softly at Kyra. You leaned into her touch, your eyes drifting down towards her lips.

The action didn’t go unnoticed by Kyra. Her hand on your cheek drifted down to your jaw, her touch more firm than before but still soft. Before either of you knew what was happening, you leaned in softly placing your lips on Kyra’s. Your breath hitched and you smiled into the kiss when you realised you had actually done it and not just in your mind.

You pressed your body against Kyra’s when you felt her kiss you back. Your lips against each other felt right, you longed for it and now you’ve had a taste you knew that you wouldn’t want to stop. After a few soft and slow kisses you reluctantly pulled away from Kyra, your face still just inches from hers. Her hand, now resting on the back of your neck, was playing with the little baby hairs at the base.

‘I really like you Kyra,’ You whispered, your breath hitting her lips with how close you were to each other still. You wanted to stay like this for as long as you could. Kyra made you feel safe, she felt like home.

‘I really like you too,’ You smiled wide, it felt like a dream that you were afraid to wake up from, ‘God, I really like you,’ Kyra held your head in her hands, emphasising her words by kissing you deeply.

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross imagine #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #leah williamson #steph catley #awfc #awfc x reader #awfc imagine

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alotofpockets · 9 hours

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When your heart stops beating | Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Lioness!Reader

Where you go down on the pitch and go into cardiac arrest

Warnings: previous cardiac arrest, medical talk, short mention of ptsd A/n: thank you to the woso writers fanfic club for your ideas on this one & @dyke-medic for your advice on the medical aspect of the recovery!

Read part 1 here

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

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As a person who is generally very active, always on their feet, and doing one thing or another, bedrest has been hard for you. You knew it was what your body needed to rest, so you listened to the doctor’s advice, still it was a struggle to not just slip out of bed and go on small adventures inside of your home.

Leah had been absolutely amazing. Without a second thought she had called Sarina to tell her that she was pulling out of camp to take care of you. Sarina had completely understood, she had been there on the pitch when it happened, and was just glad to still have you and that Leah was there to take care of you.

Your girlfriend also knew how much of a struggle bedrest for you would be, so she had been distracting you with all kinds of light activity things to pass the time. You had started with movies like on the day that you came back from the hospital, but Leah quickly realised that your brain needed more stimulation than watching a movie, to get through this bedrest.

So, while you were sleeping, she got her mum to help her get a few things to the house. Within an hour, Amanda had been at the door with a few puzzles, two lego sets you had been wanting, some canvasses and an array of painting supplies.

“How is she doing?” Amanda asked when Leah handed her a cup of tea and sat down on the couch with her mom. “Other than struggling to stay put, I think she’s doing fine. She hasn’t complained about any pain, though I know she has to be in some. The doctors said her chest can feel sore for up to a month from the CPR.” Amanda didn’t miss the way her daughter’s eyes turned glossy for a second.

“And how are you holding up, sweetheart?” Her mom’s concerned voice got to her. So, when she looked up to her mom, tears welled in her eyes. “I just keep seeing her down on the field and-” She had been trying to stay strong through everything for you, but now that it was just her and her mom, she broke down. Amanda was quick to pull Leah into her. “Oh baby, I know that must have been so scary. It’s okay, let it all out.”

After Leah had shared all her troubles with her mom, and cried all the tears she had been holding back, she heard something behind her. “What are you doing out of bed?” Her eyes widen when she sees you standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Baby, you shouldn’t be walking the stairs all on your own.” She rushed to your side to stabilise you. “Love, I’m allowed to do light activity if I feel good enough, which I do. So, really it’s fine.”

Amanda saw by her daughter’s body language that everything was moving too fast for her, so she stepped in. “Sweetheart, why don’t you take a shower? I’ll keep y/n company in the meantime.” Leah sighs reluctantly. “Fine,” She turned to you next, “but you, you will sit down while doing light activities.” You knew she was just worried about you and that she meant well. “Alright love, I will. Now go take a shower, I’ll be right here until you come back, I promise.” You sat down at the kitchen table.

“I know it might seem like she’s being too overprotective, but our girl means well.” You smile when Amanda puts a sandwich down in front of you. “Yeah, I know she means well. I was a mess after seeing her do her ACL, so I can only imagine what it’s like for her, you know?” Amanda nods, “Yeah, maybe you two should stay away from injuries for the rest of your careers.” Her joke makes you chuckle, “Trust me, I am not planning to do anything like this ever again.”

When Leah gets back down she watches from the door frame as you’re laughing with her mom, at the dining table where you had promised to stay put, now with a puzzle in front of you on the table. She knew you were in good hands with her mom, still she worried that something would happen when she wasn’t there and she wouldn’t be able to do anything.

A big part of the afternoon was spent finishing the puzzle with the two Williamson women. For the first time since you left the hospital you had felt normal. Leah also noticed that you were way more relaxed like how she had thought something more interactive would do.

Leah saw you physically getting stronger again, and it was helping ease her worries little by little. Today was the second full day at home, and you were ready to get some fresh air. It took some convincing for Leah to be okay with you going on a walk, but with her hand tightly wrapped around your hand, you were finally outside again. The fresh air did wonders to your mood, and having Leah with you was always an added bonus.

Though the walk was nice, you were exhausted after. This time it was Leah who had to do some convincing. It didn’t take much though, to get you to lay down and take a nap. She laid with you, and let you fall asleep in her arms.

After a good nap, you felt much better again, and Leah had lined up another activity. While she intended these for your recovery, she found herself enjoying them a lot. It wasn’t often when you had the time to do stuff like this during the football season. With both of you being starters for Arsenal and the Lionesses, your schedules were rather full, and when there was some free space, you were often found hanging out with friends and family. While this time stemmed from a bad situation, you made the best of it and enjoyed the time you got to spend together.

You were putting the finishing touches on your painting while Leah was staring at you lovingly. “Stop, you’re distracting me!” You chuckled. “Hm, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You rolled your eyes in a joking manner, while you got your painting done. Leah had seen a few TikTok videos where couples would paint each other and then revealed them to each other at the end.

“Please don’t be mad.” You looked over your canvas and to say it kindly, you were not artistically inclined enough to make your girlfriend look as beautiful as she was. “Oh, now I am very intrigued.” You showed off your masterpiece first. Leah tried to hold back her laughter, but failed miserably. “How does that look like me?” She said between tears. “Ehm, a blonde with Gunner earrings, there is no one else it could be.” You both had a laugh before it was Leah’s turn to show off her painting. “Oh my god, what are you complaining about, that doesn’t look any more like me than my painting looks like you!”

You had also started on building the lego sets together, but you decided to do a couple pages a day to make the activity last a bit longer.

Over the next couple of days, you were able to walk further and further again. You wanted to try running again, but Leah managed to talk you down from that. “Let’s wait for the physios to be there, shall we?” You knew she was right, but you just wanted to get back out there.

Another activity you had picked up was cooking together. Everyone knew that Leah was no chef and that you were a pretty decent home cook. So, you used the injury card to get to teach Leah some new things.

You were walking around the kitchen again as if nothing happened, and that is exactly how you felt. No more pain and no more energy loss. You were ready to get back to training, and tomorrow was finally that day.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Leah asked as she plopped herself down on the counter. “I'm a little nervous, but I am ready to get back out there.” You get a bit of the pasta sauce you made from scratch on a spoon and feed it to Leah. “Hm, tastes amazing, love.” Stepping forwards, you stand between her legs. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” She puts her arms around your waste. “It should be about you.” You shake your head, “It might be my comeback, but you and the team were the ones that experienced the scary part. Your feelings are valid too, and I want to know them.” Leah told you she was nervous too, but that she was confident that the physios and the rest of the medical team would take great care of you.

The next day you felt nervous on your way to the training centre, Leah tried her best to comfort you, but nerves were bound to happen. While the doctors said everything should be fine, it was still your heart you were talking about, so every precaution would be taken.

The moment you walk into the dinning hall, you are hugged by your teammates, who are all happy to see you. All of them had come by on short visits over the past week, but nothing compared to seeing you decked out in your full training kit.

Leah’s eyes did not leave you for even a second, as you were training to the side with the physios. With a cardiac monitor to track everything properly, you were starting training slowly. Building up step by step, and you couldn’t be happier to be working on your comeback.

During a small break, Leah was by your side instantly to ask you how you were feeling. You hugged her and kissed her on her cheek. “I feel great.” Leah smiled at your enthusiasm. “I am so proud of you baby.”

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Lionesses just posted

Lionesses: Things we love to see! After being diagnosed with commotio cordis following a blunt trauma to the chest last week, Y/n has made her comeback to training. She will be training seperately from the team, so we can monitor her well. A full return doesn't seem far away!

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#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #lionesses x reader #lionesses #engwnt #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #awfc #awfc x reader #awfc imagine

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witchywithwhiskey · 2 days

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a gift for the bar owner

pairings: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader, soft!dark bar owner!curtis everett x female reader

summary: for curtis's birthday, ari gives you to him for the night.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, drunk sex, intoxication, rough sex, oral object insertion (f receiving), masturbation (m), cumshot, exhibitionism, sadism/masochism, painplay, rough body play, biting, free use, heavy objectification, heavy degradation, humiliation kink, salirophilia (kink for ruining someone's appearance/dirtying them up), somnophilia, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink (only with ari), pet names (bambi, baby, kiddo), possessive behavior, aftercare, a couple mean hot men—let me know if i missed anything!!!

word count: 7.9k

a/n: ok so i have no excuse for this except i saw a gif of a girl getting wine poured over her face/chest and i wondered who of my characters would do that. and apparently the answer is dive bar owner curtis. so here we are. also please note that this little fic takes place after the chapter of trucker king where curtis and lloyd will be properly introduced so no, you're not supposed to know what exactly reader's tattoo is and yes, i will be revealing that in due time.

trucker king masterlist ● trucker au masterlist

Since Curtis Everett was one of Ari Levinson’s oldest friends—and one of the few people he trusted—your trucker decided that the perfect gift to give his friend for his birthday was you. A whole night where you were nothing more than Curtis’s free use fuck toy.

The only condition was that Curtis had to follow the same rules Ari had set the last time he’d let his friend use you—no kissing, no permanent marks, and no coming inside you. Curtis had quickly agreed, and the plans were set.

Ari hadn’t asked you whether you wanted to be gifted to Curtis for his birthday, but you still thought it was a great idea.

After all, Curtis worked so hard running Everett’s Roadhouse, the dive bar just off the highway that was frequented by Ari and plenty of other truckers, and he deserved a night of having his own personal fuck toy to use however he wanted. It was his birthday, and he didn’t have a girl of his own, so you didn’t mind stepping in for the night.

In fact, after the evening you’d spent with Curtis and Ari’s other oldest friend, Lloyd Hansen—when your trucker had given them permission to use you however they wanted in exchange for some favors—you were excited to be Curtis’s birthday gift. You’d liked the big, grumbling bar owner, and you wanted to make his birthday special.

As part of his gift, Ari had let Curtis pick out what you’d wear. So you strolled into Everett’s Roadhouse on the night of Curtis’s birthday wearing the sweetest little sundress you owned—and nothing else besides the shoes on your feet.

The dress was a bright white cotton with little flowers dotted all over it, and short enough to swirl around your upper thighs. The sweet little garment was at odds with your surroundings in the dive bar, which were grimy and dirty, lit by dim lightbulbs and flickering neon beer signs. It made you stand out immediately.

As soon as you entered the bar, every man in the establishment turned to look at you, their gazes ranging from drunken interest to greedy hunger. Even with Ari at your side, his posessive hand on your lower back, they couldn’t seem to drag their covetous eyes away from you, like you were an oasis in the desert.

It took you a moment to understand the attention, but when you did, a delicious tremor of excitement raced down your spine—you were the only woman in the whole building. The bar was closed for Curtis’s private party, and the only people in attendance were his friends, who were all rough-looking men that you presumed were mostly truckers or old friends like Ari.

You wondered, not for the first time since Ari had told you his plans for his friend’s birthday, what exactly Curtis would do with you. You knew Ari’s rules would save you from anything too unpleasant, but there was so much they didn’t cover. The possibilities of how Curtis might use you made your pussy tingle with anticipation.

Ari’s hand was firm on your lower back as he guided you further into the bar, your wedge sandals sticking slightly to the filthy wooden floors of the roadhouse. The gazes of all the men you walked past slid over your bare skin like oil, the sensation settling heavily between your thighs, where a sensual warmth bloomed.

That warmth only grew the closer you got to Curtis, who stood half a head taller than any man in the bar. The imposing bear of a man was leaning against the bartop, talking with someone about something, his broad shoulders and thick biceps stretching the limits of his black t-shirt. Curtis’s blue eyes were bright in the dingy lights of the bar, contrasting against his pale skin, dark beard and shorn hair.

When you finally arrived at the circle of men gathered around Curtis, Ari gave you a shove through the crowd and you stumbled toward the bar owner. It was only when Curtis fumbled to catch you in his arms—the stench of beer thick on his breath—that you realized he was already so drunk, he could barely stand, and that was why he’d been leaning against the bar.

“Hey there, bambi,” he slurred, his arms loosely circling your waist. His hands slid down to grope your ass, but Curtis must’ve forgotten he was still holding a beer, because you felt it tip. A second later, cold liquid spilled over the plush curves of your ass.

Instinctively, you squealed his name, “Curtis!” The cold beer was running down the valley between your cheeks, making you squirm in his arms. You tried to get away from the spilling liquid, but you ended up pressing closer to Curtis’s massive, burly chest, practically climbing the tall man with your fingers fisting in his t-shirt and your body plastering to his.

Thankfully, Curtis didn’t mind in the least. He managed to right his beer and chuckled, looking down at you fondly, his mouth curled in a devastating smirk even as his eyes were hazy with drink. The alcohol seemed to have softened Curtis’s rough edges, and he appeared almost warm—nothing like the grumbling man you’d met previously.

“Damn, bambi, ya just got here,” he said, loud enough for the men closest to him to hear. “And yer already trying to jump on my dick like some kind of slut, huh?” He chuckled darkly and his friends joined in, making heat creep up your neck and fill your cheeks.

But you didn’t deny it.

Instead, you recovered yourself quickly, forgetting the beer still plastering your dress to your ass and pressed closer to Curtis. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your tits against his broad chest, you enjoyed the way his eyes dipped lazily down to your low-cut neckline.

“I’m yours for the night, big man,” you purred, your body warming and responding to being pressed so tight against Curtis’s muscled chest. It wasn’t difficult to let a seductive smile curl your lips. “You can do anything you want with me.”

A grin spread slowly across Curtis’s face, the expression lecherous on his handsome features as he leered down at you.

Before he responded, though, his gaze shifted over your shoulder, and he gave a quick nod. You knew without looking the gesture was meant for Ari—an acknowledgement that Curtis remembered your trucker’s rules and understood he couldn’t do anything. But close enough.

Curtis’s free hand groped your ass hard as he turned to the crowd, taking a swig of his beer before calling out to his friends.

“Didja hear that fellas?” he crowed, his excited energy riling up the throng of men, all of whom seemed to be as drunk or drunker than Curtis. “Ari’s little cock slut said I get to do anything I want with her tonight!”

A cheer rose up from the crowd, men all around you raising their glasses in the air while they yelled so loud it felt like a physical cloud of excitement. The energy was infectious, an eager grin curving your lips as you looked around at all the truckers and degenerates who were celebrating your objectification as a free use fuck toy.

Out of curiosity, you turned to look for Ari among them. You found your trucker standing still and quiet, watching you, a glass of amber liquid in one hand. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he wore a devious little smirk on his face that had your body warming with arousal. Even though he wasn’t joining in on the deafening cheer, you knew he was just as excited by the prospect of seeing you used by Curtis as everyone else.

Before Ari could direct you to look back at Curtis, the big man you were plastered against got your attention with his next words, shouted to the crowd.

Curtis had waited until the cheering died down a little to ask, “So what should I do with her first?”

Obscene suggestions were hurled at you and Curtis, men’s voices blending into a cacophony of depravity. The things the crowd wanted Curtis to do to you ranged so wildly from nearly tame to absolutely vile that it made your head spin. Ari’s rules would prevent the worst of the suggestions, but not everything that Curtis’s friends were calling out, and you wondered with a twisted shiver of excitement what your trucker’s friend would pick to do to you.

“POUR YOUR BEER ON HER!”

Curtis’s whole body turned to the voice that had called out that last suggestion, dragging you along with him since your arms were still looped around his neck, his hand still holding your ass. Curtis pointed at his friend with his beer, some of it sloshing onto the floor with the fervor of the gesture.

“Now that’s an idea,” he shouted to the man in the crowd you couldn’t see. Curtis tipped his beer in his friend’s direction then took a swig. He looked down at where you were still pressed against his chest, your body hanging from where your arms were holding onto him. “Get on your knees, bambi.” His voice was rolling thunder, so deep and dark, it sent tiny, pleasurable zaps of lightning through your nervous system.

The speed with which you detached yourself from Curtis and dropped to your knees had the men all around you whistling in appreciation. You heard more than a few of them mutter things like, “What a good, well-trained slut,” and “Gotta get me a girl like that.”

You preened and beamed with pride at the praise, finding Ari in the crowd again and hoping your behavior reflected well on him. He’d been the one to train you to follow orders so well, after all.

Your trucker gave you a small nod of recognition that made happiness burst in your chest, and you turned back to Curtis with a happy bounce of your hips. You couldn’t help but notice the low groans that came as a result of the little movement and you smiled wider.

The wooden floor was sticky beneath your bare knees, but you paid it no mind. You suspected—and you’d turn out to be right—that you’d be dirtier and filthier than even the floor of Everett’s Roadhouse before the night was through. The excitement you felt made you bounce again, making your sweet little sundress flutter around your thighs.

Curtis’s eyes watched the hem of your dress hungrily, seemingly distracted by the movement until he shook himself and remembered what he was doing. Raising his beer, Curtis let the crowd cheer for a moment while you waited with anticipation. From your spot on the floor, Curtis looked even bigger and more intimidating, which made something low in your belly quiver with excitement, heat gathering between your thighs as your thoughts skated away.

A growled question from your trucker’s friend brought you back to the moment.

“Ya ready, bambi?”

Your hands were laying lightly on your thighs, your knees spread on the floor. You were more than ready, and at Curtis’s question, you tossed your head back and pushed your tits out, giving him a challenging smirk as you purred, “Gimme what ya got, big man.”

A half feral grin spread across Curtis’s face, and then he was tipping his bottle toward you, cold beer splashing over your face mere seconds after you shut your eyes. The pungent liquid rolled down your cheeks and slid down your neck, soaking the front of your white dress.

You could feel the fabric clinging to your skin, the white cotton no doubt becoming see-through as it was soaked in beer. Your nipples puckered and hardened against the flimsy material, putting on a show for Curtis and the crowd of men around you.

The bar owner emptied the bottle over your face and the front of your body, the beer getting in your mouth and nose, rivulets streaming down over your tits and between your spread thighs. It dripped to the floor beneath you, creating a small puddle on the sticky wooden boards.

All around you, men cheered loudly and lewdly, urging Curtis to degrade you as the filthy slut you were. You grinned at the attention, loving every second of it and knowing that the men were only allowed to witness what Curtis was doing because Ari allowed it. Because Ari had given you to his friend for his birthday, and this was what Curtis had decided to do with you.

When the beer stopped flowing, you fluttered your eyes open, blinking the alcohol from your vision as you stared up into Curtis’s darkened blue eyes. You knew you must look a mess. You’d worn makeup that wouldn’t hold up to such an onslaught, and you had no doubt that your black mascara was streaming down your cheeks and adding to the wreckage of your face. But the way Curtis looked at you made you think he liked it—a lot.

“Edgar, gimme another beer!” Curtis called, keeping his gaze locked on you, his blue eyes dipping down to take in the sight of your beer-stained dress.

The slip of fabric was sticking to your skin and it had become see-through where it had gotten wet. But it wasn’t drenched yet, and you could tell from the glint in Curtis’s eye that he wouldn’t stop until it bared you entirely. Excitement fizzed through you, and you bounced your hips while you waited impatiently for Curtis’s command to be met.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw one of the bartenders open a new bottle of beer and pass it into Curtis’s big, waiting hand. Neither you nor the bar owner took your eyes off each other, and it made the moment all the more intense. For all that you had an audience to your degradation, in that moment, you were there for Curtis, and only Curtis. You were his, if only temporarily, and he seemed to relish that knowledge just as much as you did.

“Ya thirsty, bambi?” he asked, some of the drunken slurring leeching out of his tone as he grinned lecherously down at you. His gaze broke away from you and he looked around at the men gathered close but not touching you, his eyes sparkling with depravity when he met yours again. “Ya want some more?’

Your heart was racing with excitement, the awareness of having so many men watching you thrumming deliciously beneath your skin; you couldn’t help the way your hips bounced with eagerness as you nodded quickly. “Yes, please,” you said sweetly, biting your lip to stop from grinning too wide up at your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s eyes darkened with sinful intent and you felt yourself growing wet. But the dampness between your thighs had nothing to do with the beer Curtis had poured on you, and everything to do with the fact that you were so turned on by the way he was treating you. And all the while, you could feel your trucker’s eyes on you, a reminder that you were Ari’s and he’d given you to Curtis as a gift.

“Stick your tongue out,” Curtis rumbled, a thread of steel in his voice that made you shiver. In that moment, he reminded you of the grumbling man you’d met when Ari first introduced you to his friends, and you realized you’d missed that side of him. “Show all my friends what a good little slut you are.”

If you could’ve followed the order and smiled at the same time, you would’ve. Instead, you had to settle for submitting to Curtis’s command, sticking your tongue out as far as possible and tipping your head back, letting him see down your throat.

It was an invitation for him to give you more, to give you all he had, and the entire bar knew it. The men surrounding you roared their approval while Curtis offered you a pleased little smirk. It was the nicest he’d ever looked and it nearly made you smile, but you held your position.

“That’s it, open wide, slut,” Curtis encouraged in a low, roughened voice, depraved delight sparking in his blue gaze as he degraded you on the floor of his bar.

The look in his eye and the tenor of his tone made you quiver. Your pussy throbbed more insistently with need the longer you stayed on your knees and submitted to the degradation the bar owner offered. But you channeled that desire into opening your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out a little bit further, catching the approving smirk that flickered at the corners of Curtis’s mouth.

The bar owner nodded at you, took a sip of his new beer, and then, with no other preamble, he tipped the brown bottle over your face, showering you in the bitter liquid.

With your lips open and tongue out, plenty of the beer splashed into your mouth and you swallowed it down as best you could. Despite your best efforts, you choked and gagged a little, tears slipping from your eyes to join the rest of the mess on your face as you endured Curtis’s treatment.

The men in the crowd jeered as you struggled beneath the degrading pour of Curtis’s beer, but he shifted his hand, the cold liquid moving to pour down the front of your body. The stream seemed endless and you could feel the beer soaking into your dress until the entire front of the garment was drenched.

By the time the bottle was empty, you felt half drowned, gulping down air as the beer you’d swallowed sloshed around in your belly. Your head was a little dizzy, and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the lack of air, but you swayed a little on your knees, glancing down to find that the entire front of your dress was see-through, your tits and puckered nipples on full display for everyone to see.

At the sight of yourself, your pussy throbbed, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing as desire blazed through your body. When you looked up at Curtis, you were certain he could see your arousal in every line of your expression, and he smirked, the expression sharp on his handsome face.

“Y’know, bambi, your dress is a little dirty,” Curtis rumbled, as if he hadn’t been the one to sully it in the first place. But you didn’t care about that, you only cared about the anticipation building in your body. You knew Curtis was leading somewhere and you couldn’t wait for him to get there. “I can’t let you walk around my bar like that, dripping beer everywhere.”

It escaped no one that Curtis’s dive bar was plenty dirty already and a few drops of beer wouldn’t make it much worse, but a cheer rose from the crowd as they caught on to the fact that Curtis was planning something. You bounced slightly on your knees, pouting up at the bar owner and trying to look abashed, biting your lip against a grin.

“What’re you gonna do about it, big man?” you asked sweetly.

Curtis gave you a half-feral grin, the expression more snarl than anything else, and it was your only warning.

Faster than you would’ve thought possible for the big, drunk man, Curtis stooped down and slipped his hands into the neck of your dress, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. You let out a quiet little moan that you were certain only Curtis could hear, making him pause for a brief second, his eyes fluttering closed. But then his hands were moving again, yanking on your dress.

In a split second, Curtis ripped your dress right down the center. You gasped loudly as your tits were bared to the crowd of men in the bar, the sound loud in the moment of stunned silence. Your breasts bounced free of their confines, your nipples hardening and revealing to the whole room how much you were enjoying Curtis’s rough treatment.

The cheer that broke out at your nakedness was so loud, it made your ears ring. It also drowned out the sound of rending fabric as Curtis tore the shredded garment from your body, flinging it into the crowd. His eyes were heavy as they trailed down your body, your skin prickling everywhere he looked—your nipples tightening into desperate peaks and your pussy weeping from where it was nestled between your parted thighs.

Curtis’s eyes flared at the sight of the tattoo just above your slit, a reminder of who you belonged to. But you hoped it also reminded Curtis of the first night you’d met him—the night Ari had given you to both Curtis and Lloyd to use how they wanted. Your pussy dripped at the memory, and it seemed Curtis was just as affected, the big man pausing for a moment before he shook himself.

“That’s better,” Curtis muttered, his gaze lingering on your weeping pussy like he wanted to bury his bearded face against your soft cunt. Instead, he dragged his eyes back up your body, the blue of his irises darkened to the color of the midnight sky as he murmured for your ears only, “Look so fucking pretty, bambi.”

You smiled and ducked your head at the compliment, which meant more to you than the obscene catcalls and lewd cries from the crowd around you. It was a reminder of the friendship that you and Curtis shared. You may have met because he was one of your trucker’s oldest friends, but you hoped Curtis knew you thought of him as your friend too.

“Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at the bar owner from under your lashes. “Are you enjoying your birthday?”

Something resembling a grin curved the edges of Curtis’s mouth, the expression nearly hidden in his beard. His eyes slid away and looked up, and you knew without having to check that he was looking at Ari again. Before you could discern what the glance meant, though, Curtis was chucking you under the chin and saying, “I am, thanks to you, bambi.”

Your heart gave a happy little flutter, but before you could respond, Curtis was standing up and waving his arms to get the crowd to quiet down. “What d’ya think fellas, is Ari’s little cock slut dirty enough yet?”

The beer that had already been poured on you was starting to dry into a sticky, tacky layer on your skin, but your pussy dripped at the thought of Curtis wanting to make you even filthier. And it seemed his friends liked the idea as well, because they cheered so loud, it felt like the floor was shaking beneath your knees.

Edgar the bartender already had a beer open and waiting for Curtis when the big man turned to grab one. That time, the bar owner didn’t even need to command you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue—you did that all on your own. Curtis’s smirk was pleased and his blue eyes glimmered with fondness as he tipped the beer over your face, pouring the liquid down your throat and over your body to the cheers of all his friends.

For the better part of the next hour, Curtis took his time defiling you while you sat, naked and on your knees, in the center of his bar, enduring it willingly as the free use toy he’d been given for his birthday. A good amount of the alcohol that didn’t run down over your tits and splash over your pussy went down your throat, and it wasn’t long before your head began to swim.

Still, your body felt heavy with desire, your nipples tight and desperate to be played with, your cunt pulsing and aching to be filled. It was only because Curtis seemed to be having so much fun, his friends urging him on to make you dirtier and filthier, that you didn’t break down and beg him to fuck you.

But you couldn’t help the way your body was responding, your mouth falling slack at the teasing slide of liquid over your puckered nipples. If you arched your body just right, and spread your thighs wide enough, you could feel the trickle of beer over you clit, and it made a low moan slip from your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

Curtis’s dark chuckle from above was your only warning. At that moment, he shoved the neck of his beer bottle into your mouth, pushing your lips wide and making you gag as your eyes flew open in surprise.

“That needy little mouth is begging to be fucked, bambi,” the bar owner growled, quickly unzipping his fly and wedging the bottom of the beer between the zipper’s teeth so he could hold your head in both hands and fuck you with the glass bottle. “Take it, cock slut, fucking take it,” he grunted obscenely.

All you could do was choke and struggle, the remainder of the beer sloshing down your throat and joining the rest in your belly. Your fingers fisted in the denim jeans encasing Curtis’s thick thighs, but you didn’t push him away. It felt good to finally have one of your holes used, even if you were being fucked by Curtis’s beer bottle instead of his cock like you’d wanted.

Your jaw hurt by the time he pulled away, your lips swollen from being wrapped around the wide glass. Your body swayed unsteadily on your knees, arousal dripping down between your thighs and joining the mess of beer on the floor. The cheers of the crowd had faded into a constant rumble, and you smile dazedly when they urged Curtis on.

Suddenly, a big bear paw of a hand was wrapping around your upper arm and you were being hauled to your feet. Blood rushed to your legs, your head swimming and lolling to the side as you tried to find your footing. But standing seemed impossible—and unimportant as arousal burned through you, making you whimper and whine desperately. You hoped someone would fuck you soon.

Curtis chuckled at your pathetic noises, the husky sound sending shivers down your spine as his lips grazed your ear. “You’re not too drunk to fuck, are ya, bambi?” he asked in a low, growly voice as he pressed his hips against you, his hard bulge digging into your belly.

When you’d first walked into Everett’s Roadhouse that night and saw the state of the bar owner, you’d thought there was no way he’d be able to fuck you with how drunk he was. But the hour spent pouring so many bottles of beer over your body instead of drinking them had sobered Curtis up enough to get hard. He was stiff and twitching and pressing into you through his jeans and you wanted him to bury his cock in you.

Your dazed smile widened into a giddy grin and you tipped your head back, blinking your eyes a few times to get your vision to focus enough to see Curtis’s face. “It’s your birfday, big man,” you said, your voice more slurring than sultry, a hiccup interrupting you and making you pause. “I’m use to yours.” Your expression scrunched into a confused pout, knowing your words weren’t right, and tried again. “I’m yours to fuck.”

Curtis was laughing as he hauled you over to one of the pool tables off to the side of the bar, and tossed you down on the green felt. You lay limply on your back, staring up at your trucker’s tall friend while he glared at the guys who’d been playing a game on the table. Their grumbling quickly cut off and Curtis returned his attention to you.

The crowd shifted to gather around the pool table while Curtis pulled out his cock, which was just as massive as the rest of him. The thick length lay against your mound, the girth covering much of the tattoo there, the tip nearly reaching your belly button. Your inner walls clenched in anticipation of taking Curtis inside you—you couldn’t wait.

“Gimme, gimme,” you mumbled, spreading your thighs wide and pushing your pussy up against the stiff, velvet-wrapped steel of Curtis’s cock. It twitched against your mound, precum dripping onto your belly and joining the mess on your skin.

Curtis chuckled at your antics, rumbling, “Alright, bambi.” The bar owner grabbed your thighs, pushing you wide as he pulled his hips back, lining up the tip of his big cock with your entrance. Without any warning or preparation, Curtis barreled into your cunt, burying his big cock to the hilt with one thrust.

Instantly, stinging pain and scorching pleasure cut white-hot through the core of you, overwhelming your mind and leaving your body to react however it wanted. Your head was thrown back, and your lips parted to let out a piercing scream that shattered through the noise of the dive bar.

“Fuck yeah, bambi, scream for me,” Curtis groaned, his big hands kneading your thighs, fingers digging into your plush softness hard enough to hurt. He pulled your body into his, managing to grind his cock even deeper into your pussy, wrenching another, surprised shriek from your lips.

You felt like you were being split in half, pain and pleasure ricocheting through your body fast enough to make you dizzy, your drunken mind unable to tell the difference between the two. All you knew was that it was so much, so overwhelming, and your hands reached out above your head, searching for something to cling to as your mind splintered and your body trembled from the sensation of being split open on Curtis’s cock.

Two warm hands wrapped firmly around your wrists, pinning them to the rough felt of the pool table, leaving you powerless to Curtis’s massive cock. He was rocking his hips in tiny little thrusts, the tip of his length battering against your cervix and wringing helpless little whimpers from your lips as your hazy eyes searched above you for the man pinning you down—somehow knowing before your gaze collided with the familiar blue of your trucker’s eyes that it was Ari.

His face was hovering above you, upside down as he leaned over the table to catch your gaze. The edges of Ari’s features were blurred, but you would’ve recognized your trucker even if you were blackout drunk—even if you were so intoxicated you were more unconscious than not.

Ari’s face was like a star, familiar and steady, and you smiled happily up at him, your heart warming when you noticed the pride in his gaze.

“You’re doing well, baby,” Ari rumbled, his features sharp and his expression hard. But deep in the blue depths of his eyes, you could see the affection you knew he felt for you. “You’re being such a good fuck toy for daddy’s friend on his birthday.”

You giggled, squirming happily on the pool table, your face upturned to your trucker, your attention completely diverted from Curtis and his cock, even as he still fucked you. You were having fun with the bar owner, but nothing and no one would ever be able to come between you and Ari. You were his, always, and he knew it.

Ari leaned down, and you thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but you should’ve known better. Ari’s teeth nipped the soft lobe of your ear, making you moan, before he spoke words meant only for you.

“When Curtis is done, I’m gonna fuck your filthy little cunt, kiddo, so don’t pass out,” he rumbled, the twisted promise making your cunt clench around his friend’s cock. “Or do, it doesn’t matter to me.” Ari sank his teeth into the bone at the corner of your jaw, biting you hard enough to make you cry out. “I’m gonna use your holes whether you’re awake or not.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips, your legs spreading wider instinctively at the thought of your trucker using your cunt to get off while you lay unconscious in his bed. You smiled adoringly up at Ari, blinking your eyes slowly. It took you a moment before your swimming vision could focus on Ari’s face, and when he saw he had your attention, he jerked his chin sharply at his friend, commanding you wordlessly to look back at Curtis.

You did, following your trucker’s order immediately, finding the massive bar owner watching you and Ari with a look on his face you couldn’t quite identify. The only way you could describe it was…openly gluttonous. Curtis looked like he wasn’t merely jealous of what you and Ari had, he looked like he would’ve stolen you away from his friend if there was any chance in the universe you’d look at him the same way.

But there wasn’t, and Curtis’s expression shifted as he resigned himself for having the piece of you that Ari had given him for his birthday. It would have to be enough, because even though his cock was inside you, you were still Ari’s and Ari’s alone.

Curtis grabbed a beer off the edge of the pool table and chugged half of it. As he set it back down, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and leaned over you, his big hands grabbing your thighs again, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

The pain only made your arousal flare hotter and you smiled up at your trucker’s friend, murmuring, “Happy birthday, big man.”

“Thank you, bambi,” he muttered, low enough that you knew it was just for you. Then a smirk spread across Curtis’s face, his eyes lighting with filthy desire. “Now, scream if my dick’s too big for your tight little cunt, ya filthy slut.”

With that, Curtis pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained in your grasping channel, then he slammed inside you. Even with your body having adjusted to the sheer size of him, his hard, brutal thrust pulled a scream from your throat, your back arching up off the table and your wrists pulling against Ari’s hold.

Curtis laughed loudly as the crowd cheered, the big bar owner setting a ferocious pace as he fucked you hard enough that you knew you were going to be sore for days. But you loved it. You loved the pain and the pleasure and the roaring of the crowd as Curtis fucked you in front of all his friends.

You loved the way Ari’s hands held your arms pinned above your head, how it bared your tits to Curtis, who bent over your body to finally suck on your aching nipples. You loved the way Curtis’s beard rasped against your skin, making you shiver as your pussy clenched hard around his thick cock.

Your mind floated deliriously through the waves of pleasure and pain crashing over your body. You felt drunk on cock and alcohol, not knowing how much time passed as Curtis fucked you, but it seemed to go on forever. Your body was wound so tight for so long, you reached a point where you didn’t know if you were even going to come, or if you were simply going to hover on the edge for the rest of eternity.

“Look at me, bambi,” Curtis growled, dragging your attention back to his handsome face.

It was only then that you realized you’d been staring up unseeingly at the ceiling of the bar, the golden and neon lights swimming through your vision as you lay limply beneath your trucker’s friend.

Curtis’s blue eyes were dark and his mouth was twisted into a desirous snarl, his beard making him look like a feral beast as he pounded into you.

“You’re gonna come on my cock, d’you hear me?”

Words escaped you, your tongue simply lolling out over your bottom lip when you opened your mouth to respond. All you could manage was a frantic whine as you bobbed your head in a nod.

“Good slut,” Curtis grunted, one of his hands falling to your lower belly, his thumb finding your clit between your slippery folds. “Come on my cock, bambi, c’mon, come on my big dick like a good little cock slut.” The rough pad of his thumb rubbed your slick, puffy clit unrelentingly, and suddenly, you were tipping over the edge.

Your mouth fell open wider and your spine arched up off the pool table as you screamed, your release crashing over you, wave after wave of pleasure hurtling you closer and closer to a darkness that wanted to claim you. But you clung to consciousness, your scream turning into a high, keening whine that could’ve been a sign of pain or pleasure.

Your release seemed to spur on Curtis and he rutted into you, fucking your clenching pussy as he watched pleasure contort your face and body. Then, with a final grunt, Curtis pulled himself free from your body. He jerked his cock in a big fist until he spilled all over your belly, making sure none of his come fell anywhere near your pussy or the tattoo there.

Curtis’s chest heaved, his eyes distant and dazed with pleasure as he wrung every last drop of come from his cock, and you watched him with the satisfied smile of a job well done.

When the last rope of his come had splattered, warm and sticky, against your belly, Curtis finally sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the beer handed to him from the crowd. He took a deep swig while he tucked his cock away with the other hand.

“Thanks, Levinson,” Curtis rasped, tipping his bottle to your trucker, who just nodded. Ari’s hands were idly massaging your wrists and you melted onto the rough felt of the pool table, knowing your trucker would take care of you. Curtis turned his blue eyes on you, and he tipped his bottle to you as well. “Always a pleasure, bambi,” he said, a genuine look of appreciation on his face.

You were about to respond, but then Curtis turned his beer over and he used the alcohol to wash his come from your skin. You squealed loudly when the cold liquid rushed over your heated skin, instinctively bringing up your legs to curl into yourself, making the crowd laugh and jeer.

When the beer was empty and his spend was cleaned from your skin, Curtis stumbled away into the crowd, the big man being swallowed up by the well-wishers and revelers congratulating him on fucking you good. Since you knew Curtis was done with you, you looked up at Ari, twisting your hands to wrap your fingers around his arms.

“Can we go now, daddy?” you asked softly.

Ari nodded and gathered you up from the pool table, setting you down on the edge while he pulled off the flannel shirt he’d worn over a white t-shirt. He tugged it over your head and helped you get your trembling arms in the sleeves, then ducked down to brush a kiss to your lips. The events of the night were catching up to you, and you were drunk and exhausted, but you sighed into your trucker’s mouth.

“You did good tonight, baby,” Ari murmured against your lips, and your heart felt like it was suffused in the warmest sunlight. Ari’s praise made you feel lighter than air, even as he pulled away.

You smiled up at your trucker as he straightened, staring at Ari like he was your whole world, which he was. His eyes were the softest you’d ever seen them as he stared right back at you, the tiniest smile curling the corners of his mouth.

Just then, Lloyd materialized out of the crowd and Ari finally looked away from you to exchange a loaded glance with his other oldest friend. Lloyd seemed to be much more sober than Curtis, and he helped your trucker lead you to the bathroom, where Ari cleaned you up a little and let you relieve yourself after all that you’d had to drink that night.

Then, Lloyd cleared a path through the drunken crowd while you and Ari followed. Between the two men, no one dared to try to touch you, and you sank into Ari’s side, feeling safe with your trucker as you looped your arms loosely around his waist. He smelled familiar and wonderful and you didn’t even try to hold yourself back from burying your face in his chest even as you kept on walking.

Lloyd pushed open the door of Everett’s Roadhouse and you sighed happily when the cool night air brushed against your heated, still slightly sticky cheeks. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of your sandals, and you blinked your eyes in the darkness until they focused enough to see Ari’s big, black truck looming in packed parking lot surrounded by other long-haul rigs.

“Drysdale’s gonna have a lot of business tonight after that show your girl put on,” Lloyd commented, casting his gaze across the expanse between Everett’s Roadhouse and Diesel Dolls, the strip club on the other side of the parking lot. Lloyd snorted and adjusted the front of his pants, and it was only then that you noticed the sizable bulge there. “Including me,” he muttered.

Your hazy thoughts strayed to the strip club, and you couldn’t help but imagine Lloyd getting a lap dance from a beautiful stripper. The tattoo artist sitting back on a plush couch while a gorgeous woman gyrated on his lap, his fingers twitching to grab her and touch her and defile her the way you knew Lloyd liked.

You didn’t even think to picture yourself as the stripper. Instead, in this little fantasy, you were sitting on Ari’s lap, your trucker’s cock buried in your cunt. Maybe he’d even let you get your own lap dance from Lloyd’s stripper, your body pressed between Ari’s and the other woman…

Your body lurched forward and if it wasn’t for Ari’s firm grip on your waist, you would’ve gone sprawling across the parking lot. For the rest of the walk to Ari’s rig, you tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and not let your mind wander so you wouldn’t end up feeling more sore than you already were.

When the three of you came to a stop beside the driver’s side door of Ari’s truck, Lloyd let his eyes slide to you before moving quickly to your trucker.

“I hope you had a similar gift in mind for my birthday, Levinson,” Lloyd said with his usual oily charm, his mouth curling into a smirk beneath his well-groomed mustache.

“We’ll see,” Ari rumbled, but his tone was good-natured. You couldn’t help the way your body clenched at the salacious, and somewhat victorious smile Lloyd shot your way.

But the events of the night were weighing heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion creeping into your bones, and you didn’t have the brainpower to wonder what Lloyd might do with you if you were gifted to him on his birthday. Even if you knew you’d have just as much fun with Ari’s other friend as you’d had with Curtis.

“Daddy,” you whined softly, burying your face against Ari’s beefy chest. His hand squeezed your hip possessively and he said his goodbyes to Lloyd, then helped you into the truck, making sure he was the only one who could see the way your pussy flashed as you climbed into the cab.

Ari followed you up and locked the door behind him while you crawled into the cot in the back, laying down on top of his soft blankets despite the sticky residue still clinging to most of your body. Ari pulled off his t-shirt and kicked off his pants, then joined you in the narrow bed.

Your body melted at the familiar comfort of his weight behind you, and you began to relax as sleep tugged at the edges of your awareness. But when Ari’s cock pressed hot and hard against your bare ass, you remembered his promise from inside the bar, how he said he was going to fuck you whether you were awake or not. You moaned softly while he bunched up the flannel shirt you still wore around your waist.

Your face was already pressing into the soft pillow on Ari’s bed, your eyes closed, but you arched your back and pushed your ass against Ari’s hard length, inviting him to slide inside your slick cunt. You were sore from Curtis’s fucking, but wet again for your trucker. You were always wet for him, your body craving the feeling of his cock filling you up in the perfect way that only he could.

“Ya gonna stay awake for me while I use your messy cunt, cock whore?” Ari rumbled into the back of your neck. The flat of his tongue swiped up the column of your throat, wringing a soft whine from you as he licked the beer from your skin. It felt so good, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps all over your body. “Or did my friend wear you out?”

All you could manage was an unintelligible mumble, the sound muffled by the pillow crushed beneath your face, as sleep pushed more insistently into the border of your wakefulness. Ari’s deep chuckle rumbled against your spine, making you even wetter for your filthy, perfect trucker.

“Go to sleep, kiddo,” Ari murmured in your ear, his hand sliding over your hip to press against your lower belly, his fingertips grazing the tattoo that was branded into the skin of your mound, just above your pussy. His touch moved your body slightly, arching you enough for the head of his cock to find the slit of your cunt. “Let daddy use your tight little hole while you get some rest.”

Ari slid inside your pussy slowly, pressing the air from your lungs as he took his time impaling you on his cock. Your aching inner walls clenched around him desperately, pain and pleasure flaring to life and zinging through your exhausted limbs. A rough, greedy grunt rumbled in Ari’s chest, the sound softening into a warm, satisfied groan once he was fully seated inside you.

It hurt a little to be stretched out around Ari’s cock so soon after taking Curtis’s pounding, but when your trucker wrapped his arms around you, holding you cocooned in the cage of his broad chest while he rocked his hips almost gently against your ass, you felt yourself melting into him. Ari’s lips and tongue worked against your neck, licking sticky beer from your skin, his beard deliciously familiar while he set an almost soothing pace as he fucked you.

Despite the soreness between your thighs, and the tiny zings of pleasure thrumming through your body from Ari’s cock rocking into you, your exhaustion was too great and it wasn’t long before you were slipping into the warm comfort of sleep. That night in Ari’s truck, you fell asleep with a blissed out, cock drunk smile on your face, happy as could be to be in your trucker’s arms.

You may have spent much of the night as a gift for the bar owner your trucker called a friend, and you were glad you could be part of making Curtis’s birthday special, but you would always belong to Ari. And you would always end your nights in his arms, because that was where you wanted to be and where you belonged—with your trucker, Ari Levinson.

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iris-qt · 3 days

Text

𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜

⭒ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⭒ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

⭒ ɢʀᴜᴍᴘʏ x ꜱᴜɴꜱʜɪɴᴇ | 2.4ᴋ

⭒ ᴀ/ɴ: ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ

⭒ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴄᴏᴄᴋʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪɴᴅ ʀᴀᴠᴇɴ��ʟᴀᴡ. ʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴜɴꜰᴀᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ, ɪɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇᴅ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴘᴏᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪɴ ʜɪᴍ ᴏᴠᴇʀ. ʙᴏʏ ɪꜱ ʜᴇ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ..

“Speak no further, Nott. Ravenclaw tower at 9 and that's that.”

Fuck.

Astronomy was quite a time-consuming class, but Theodore Nott would do anything for the credits. Even if it meant partaking in various group projects. It played out in a similar way each time: he’d get partnered with some blithering imbecile and do all the work. Or, worst case scenario, he’d get partnered with some pining girl and have to hide in the deepest corners of the library to avoid their presence which consisted of blabbering on about Merlin knows what. The topic always consisted of everything BUT the task at hand, and Theo would be forced to nod at the appropriate times while doing the project for the both of them.

He wouldn’t let anyone ruin his A grade streak.

The only person he could trust was himself.

Until you waltzed in, threatening to ruin it all with a bright smile and brisk walk.

Infuriating.

Sure, you were smart. Possibly smarter than him, although he’d never admit it, but he hated…no despised working with another person. There were always conflicting methods and ideas which ultimately led to Theodore not getting what he wanted. And what Theo wanted was to ace this project with his own ideas. Difficult to do with a headstrong ravenclaw butting her head in. And so, when the partners were ordered to begin planning, he strode up to you, resolved with his stubborn ideals.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Theod-”

“I’ve got this, don’t worry. Just put your name on the final paper when I’m done.”

You raise your eyebrow, smirking up at the crazy boy. How dare he assume you’d easily give in to such blasphemy. You worked hard for the grades you got and this wasn’t an exception.

“Nice try, but you’re not getting rid of me,” you stand up, scooping up your Astronomy textbook in your arms.

“But-”

“Speak no further, Nott. Ravenclaw tower at 9 and that's that,” you smile deviously, walking away, leaving Theodore scrambling to think of a way to shake you off.

Perhaps if he pissed you off…

But how could he do that?

After consulting with the king of pissing people off, also known as Mattheo Riddle, his task was clear. He walked up the long flight of stairs leading to the Ravenclaw common room with a devilish smirk on his face.

You were waiting right outside the common room drowning under the weight of multiple star charts and apparatuses. As you heard his footsteps, you exclaimed, “You actually showed up!”

He scoffs, relieving you of some of the equipment you were holding; the pile so high it hid your face. He took most of the burden, revealing your beaming smile.

“Don’t make me change my mind, Y/L/N,” he looked around. “Why didn’t we just meet at the Astronomy Tower?”

Your eyes light up as if you’d been waiting for him to ask that question.

“Literally everyone and their mum are at the Astronomy tower right now doing the project.”

Theo frowned at that as the prospect of being amongst even more people did not entice him in the slightest. Noting his scowl, you laughed.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Nott. I know a place.”

He grumbled at your demeaning statement but he couldn’t ignore the way shooting stars began ricocheting around his heart at your words. He followed you into the Ravenclaw common room, in awe of the bronze accents amongst the deep blue waves of gleaming drapes and chairs. The ceiling was made up of moving star charts and planets, making their way around their orbits. Truthfully, this was the most breathtaking common room Theodore Nott had ever set foot in.

You led them to a balcony opening up from the common room, and it contained a giant table, lanterns, and a gleaming silver telescope. He couldn’t help but think the other three houses got the shorter end of the stick, although that may just be because Nott has always been enamored with the stars. Plus, the deep azure blue spread across the ravenclaw common room just happened to be his favorite color.

You set everything down and began to set up, spreading everything out on the table with precise precision. Theodore placed a compass caliper on the table slightly crooked and you gently pushed it into a straight position. He raised his eyebrow, amused at your antics.

“You know we’re just gonna pick that up in a few minutes, right?”

“It’s good to be organized, Nott.”

“Please, I’ve seen all the crumpled parchment in your bag.”

You smiled sheepishly, looking up at him, “That’s called an organized mess.”

“Whatever you say, love-,” and his eyes widened as he realized what he said, panic blooming in them. “Love-leyyy weather we’re having today?” he grinned quite maniacally.

Lightning struck the distant rolling hills visible from the balcony as you shot a smirk at Theo.

“Quite.”

Reaching up to mess up his hair, you moved to the telescope to start setting it up, leaving Theodore wildly blushing, not wanting to reach up and fix his messy hair caused by your touch.

Did he smoke one of Mattheo’s “special” cigs today? Perhaps the stress of this project was leading him off the rails. It’ll pass by tomorrow…

Nonetheless, his plan to piss you off consisted of simply not helping at all until you got mad and quit.

He abandoned that when he saw that your ideas and methods not only aligned with his, but improved upon them.

The rest of the night was spent charting the pattern of the aligning planets and measuring their orbital distances. Awkward glances and light touches were scattered throughout this process as Theodore realized he was entering uncharted territory with you.

At one point, you both attempted to reach for a graphite pencil at the same time, hands touching, and Theodore had an awkward fit as he flung his hand away so quickly it nearly knocked over the telescope.

“Never felt the touch of a woman, Theodore?” you teased him, grinning and finding joy in his odd behavior.

At another moment, he was stuck staring at your furrowed brow and focused expression as you were doing some complicated trigonometric calculations. It’s as if he were hypnotized by your lips softly mouthing the numbers corresponding with your mathematical work. The way you had to fix a lock of hair every few seconds when it fell in your face…

He reached out and tucked that piece of hair behind your ear in a way that would prevent it from falling again.

Tearing yourself from your math, you shoot him the brightest smile.

Brighter than the cosmos visible in the dark heavens above.

He quickly looks the other way, walking off and standing in the farthest corner of the balcony. As far as he can from that evil witch.

She had hexed him.

He was sure of it.

They wrapped up a bit past midnight and agreed to meet at the same place the next night to continue working on the time consuming project …

“I’m telling you, she’s using dark magic or something!” Theo throws up his hands, pacing around the slytherin common room, ranting to Mattheo.

He began muttering to himself, rubbing his face, lost in thought about what you were doing to him. Riddle watches Theo, thoroughly amused. In their whole lifetime of knowing each other, Mattheo had never seen Theodore this worked up about something…especially someone.

It didn’t take a genius to realize Theodore was down bad, and Mattheo intended to do something about it.

“You know, I’ve caught a couple girls tryna spike my drinks with love potion…”

“AH-HA!” Theo points at Riddle maniacally. “SHE SPIKED MY DRINK. Probably my water bottle since it was just sitting on my Astronomy desk.”

Mattheo smirks, “And what’re you gonna do about it?”

“Confront her, of course. Put an end to this nonsense.”

Mattheo grinned, his intended plan coming to fruition.

“Go get ‘em Theo.”

That night, Theo met you again right outside the common room and followed you to the balcony, still stressing about how he’d bring this up with you.

You started laying out a 150 pack of markers and colored pencils along with 3 different bottles of glitter on the massive oak table, putting your hands on your hips after unloading the myriad of art supplies.

Theo looks horrified as he begins to doubt the respect he had built up for you in the past day.

“Are we bedazzling the star chart?”

“No, Nott, we’re making the best poster Professor Sinistra will ever lay eyes on,” you smile, huffing happily.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about the poster,” he leans against the table, looking curiously at you.

Sure you were smart, but how did you brew a love potion from scratch? It was one of the most difficult potions to brew. Perhaps you bought it, although you weren’t rich. Love potions cost quite the amount of galleons. Especially ones this strong. It seemed to be so strong that the idea of you going out of your way to brew a love potion or spend such a pretty penny on it flattered him to no end.

Lost in his reverie, he was spooked as you approached him, leaning over him, supposedly trying to kiss him?

KISS HIM?

Theo enters lockdown mode as his eyes widen to the size of the moon in the ink black sky. He doesn't know how to react to your sudden move, so he closes his eyes and slightly parts his lips, awaiting your own. He buzzes with ecstasy, realizing he wants this more than anything. Want?

No.

He needs to feel your lips on his own.

Instead, he hears the loveliest little laugh and a gentle “boop” on his nose. He opens his eyes, bewildered, and realizes you had simply leaned over to grab a protractor from the table he was blocking.

“Spaced out there, huh Nott?” and you collapse into a fit of laughter. “Get it? SPACED out? Because, you know, space.” She points to the night sky.

He responds with a dazed, furiously blushing expression.

“Just me? Ok,” you sigh dramatically as you move over to start creating the informational poster.

This was it.

Confrontation time.

Her evil antics had gone too far, and, as warm as the feeling felt, he was ready to dispose of this funny, breathtaking, witty, heavenly project partner. His maddening astronomy partner that had him seeing stars. He huffed angrily as he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention.

“I know what you’re doing.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Our..project?”

“No, I know what you did to me.”

You cross your arms, smirking, wondering if this was his weird, socially awkward, very Theo way of confessing. You weren’t emotionally blind, it was obvious this boy was so down bad. But you couldn’t judge. So were you. Perhaps for longer than he had ever been.

“And what did I do to you?”

He scoffs, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Impossible for a genius to play dumb,” you grin.

He squints his eyes at you, heaving a sigh, “You spiked my water with a love potion.”

There was a moment of silence between you two as you registered his bizarre claim and burst into laughter. Theodore must have truly lost his mind.

“And where would I get my hands on that, Theo?”

He looked offended at your laughter and glared at you, fully convinced there was foul play involved in whatever feelings were brewing in his heart.

“Listen, I know you did something. Just tell me.”

You smirk, moving closer to him, eyes averting down to an unbuttoned button on his shirt. Fixing it, you glance up, speaking softly, “What is it you feel, Theodore.”

He felt a lot of things at that moment. He felt as if you were the most ethereal sight in the world. The dramatic lighting of the candles highlighting your face in every right angle. He felt as if he could implode at that moment; the redness of his face causing a cataclysmic supernova of his very soul. He felt as if he could stare into your eyes forever, sinful thoughts arising at the cocky look on your face as you peered up at him. So many thoughts in his head, and ever since the previous night, each and every thought, the ones in the forefront of his mind and the back, had consisted of you.

He subconsciously moves closer, finally letting his gut feeling have a say. Finally listening to his heart over his head, and his heart told him that what he felt for you could not be replicated by any curse, hex, or potion. It was real and pure. It was foreign but as sweet as the nightbird’s song. As radiant as a galaxy far far away.

But you weren’t far far away, you were right in front of him.

And maybe he’d get that kiss now.

He leaned down as you tilted your jaw to perfectly capture his lips in a passionate kiss, hands in his hair, his on your neck.

Making out with Theodore Nott while you were supposed to be glitter bombing the hell out of your guys’ project was not on your agenda, but you’d easily make room for it anytime anywhere.

It was everything you dreamed it would be.

Pulling apart from the kiss of your dreams felt like being launched light years away from him, but in reality he was standing right there, breathing heavily, his lips swollen and pink.

He quickly looked away, fidgeting anxiously, “That…that's what I feel.”

“Definition of actions speak louder than words,” you laughed, taking his hand in yours.

He smiled at you, heart racing a million beats per second.

“That was no love potion,” he laughed, tucking your hair behind your ear once more as his hand laid to rest gently on your chin, tilting it up.

“No, it was just my raw charisma, Theodore.”

He laughed, shaking his head. His laugh was a sound you hadn’t fully captured, and now that you had, you never wanted him to stop.

Theo learned about a lot more than planet alignment during this project. He learned that you were an amazing kisser.

And hey, maybe team projects weren't so bad after all.

#theodore nott #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott one shot #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys #theodore nott x y/n

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 10 hours

Text

foolish spring winds, blow my way ; satoru gojo

summary; a snippet of the spring you share with a certain satoru gojo — who seems intent on making your high school life as difficult as possible.

word count; 5.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, enemies to friends (..but the ’enemy’ part is kinda one-sided), fluffy n sweet overall, satoru doesn’t know how to make friends + thinks lighthearted bullying constitutes as a bonding activity, he’s a little shit but he means well, switching povs, lots of gojo slander (but reader sees the light eventually), big shoujo vibes, they’re both tsunderes <33

a/n; i ended up scrapping the series i wrote this fic for originally, so i thought i’d rewrite it and repost it on its own!! teentoru is such a grumpy little kitten i need to squish his paws

satoru gojo is annoying.

it might seem blunt, but after many weeks of careful thinking, you’ve decided no description could possibly fit him better.

when you first met him, on that first day of school, you had no idea what to think. no real expressions or tonal shifts to clue you in on who he was, how he felt — nothing but the slightest peek of a terrifying blue to set your nerves on edge.

in hindsight, you’re almost certain it was intentional. he wanted to appear unreadable. purposefully hiding his personality and mannerisms, to gain the upper hand — observing you, dissecting you inside his mind, while revealing nothing about himself apart from his surname.

it’s a kind of power; a safety measure.

… but evidently, holding back isn’t exactly gojo’s forte. the very next morning, he was already beginning to loosen up, after getting more accustomed to the new environment and classmates. showing you his true colours; just a little hint of cerulean, a single dip of paint on the blank canvas of his soul.

and with the revelation of his genuine personality — your unease around him festered even more.

where could you even begin to describe him? for one, he’s childish. and cocky. and loud. arrogant, selfish and flamboyant — just generally an asshole? you could go on and on. none of the traits are particularly flattering, and you know he couldn’t care less.

gojo is annoying, plain and simple. almost constantly up to something, eager to push someone’s buttons, to get attention. like a bratty toddler. uninterested in manners, or even common courtesy; he says what he feels, regardless of how other people take it.

to put it simply, he has no regard for the people around him. his self-interest is limitless.

as if that wasn’t annoying enough — you have no choice but to admit that he does have a certain presence to him. a kind of charisma, or what you think could become charisma, if he’d just get off that high horse already. he won’t, though. you know he won’t. he revels in it, in looking down on everything and everyone, annoyingly boisterous and irritatingly tall. freaky, long limbs. like a noodle and an alien had a baby.

but, more than anything — above all else — what frustrates you most is the fact that his unbridled confidence isn’t exactly unwarranted.

as much as it pains you to say it… gojo is maybe just a little bit incredible. a natural-born genius. he’s intelligent, and observant, and awfully pretty, with those baby blues eyes and those snowy locks of hair. and he has no issue getting what he wants.

absolutely zero.

there’s something admirable about it, in a twisted way. like he doesn’t even need to try. he’s good at anything, if he just gives it a single chance. you can only assume he’s never given much thought to the prospect of being a decent guy, because that’s the only thing he sucks at.

effortlessly perfect, in the most imperfect of ways. that’s probably how you’d describe him.

… annoying is still the most fitting word, though. or maybe obnoxious. he’s got this spoiled rich kid vibe that irks you, gets under your skin. you doubt he’s ever had to empathize with anyone, in his entire life.

and, yes — maybe you’re being a little harsh to him. but why should you bother being jovial when he won’t return the favour?

gojo is annoying; and when you say that, you mean annoying to basically everyone. as a basis for existing. always teasing and taunting, looking down from that high horse of his. you’re no exception to this rule, of course. but you’re almost certain that he has it out for you specifically.

you know he looks down on you, from behind those tacky sunglasses. you’re sure of it.

compared to geto or shoko, you aren’t very self-assured — and you think he must have sensed it the moment he laid eyes on you. sensed that you’re a little meek, a bit of a doormat, easy to push around and get a rise out of. maybe he also noticed your apprehension towards him, your apparent unease.

you’re easy prey, to put it simply.

evidently, he’s developed a fondness for getting under your skin. it started as soon as introductions were over, and it still hasn’t gotten better. he loves catching you off guard, throwing you an unneeded comment or two, just to see what reaction you’ll give him next. almost like he’s solving an equation — said equation being you, the limit of your patience. and you keep giving him what he wants; a scoff, a roll of your eyes, an earnest fuck right off. you can never seem to successfully ignore him. he’s just far, far too good at being insufferable.

… and, more than anything, he’s far too out of reach. even when you try to get along with him, it backfires. you don’t have a single thing in common. you don’t understand him at all.

(and that suits you just fine.)

a heavy sigh slips from your parted lips, as you examine your blurry reflection in the surface of the mirror. fatigue clings to your skin like a layer of sweat, your mind muddled, stuffed with anxious thoughts and discomforting feelings.

you’re exhausted. completely and utterly spent, even though the day’s barely begun — running on three pitiful hours of sleep, all broken up and jumbled by nightmares that wouldn’t stop spooking you. not a single wink of proper rest.

and it’s painfully obvious. in your face, your posture, the dark crescents beneath your eyes; in the way you can’t help but drag your legs as you walk, your hair disheveled, little sighs and grumbles slipping from your lips for every step you take. all you can do is sluggishly blink the exhaustion away.

you just feel so tired.

it could be worse, though. you don’t have any classes today, no real reason to get out of your comfy bed, leave the safety of your cozy little dorm room. but you need breakfast, right now, or else you’ll literally explode — so you still get up on shaky legs and try to mimic the appearance of someone… even moderately well-rested.

it doesn’t work, but that’s besides the point.

so you make your way to the dormitory’s shared kitchen. walking idly — clumsily — enjoying the sight of fleeting, fluttering cherry blossoms through the windows you pass. little pink butterflies.

once you’ve crossed the threshold, you’re relieved to find the open space entirely devoid of people. no shoko, no geto, not even a mischievous gojo. running into the first two wouldn’t be the end of the world — but it still wouldn’t be ideal. you don’t want anyone seeing you like this, tired and meek, a little vulnerable.

(least of all gojo. you shiver at the bare thought.)

with laboured, groggy movements, you waltz around the kitchen, getting cups and plates and turning on the coffee machine. enjoying the soothing melody of the pan sizzling, singing along to the purring of espresso being made. it’s nice and pleasant to your sensitive ears, as you blink under the rays of sunlight shining in, throwing together a lazy breakfast.

you waste no time in taking a seat by one of the tables once you’re finished. eager to soak in the peace and quiet, wolf down a sandwich and copious amounts of caffeine.

but, as always — the world seems to have it out for you specifically.

”oh? well, look who it is. and here i thought you had left too.”

you stiffen. ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but still enough that you physically feel the dread envelop every single cell of your body. the voice that echoes out across the open air is a chipper one, a familiar one. a voice you were desperately hoping not to hear today.

all you can do is continue to sip from your cup of coffee, inwardly wincing, silently going through all five stages of grief simultaneously — before accepting your unfortunate predicament.

(that’s just your luck, isn’t it?)

finally, you raise your weary head, knowing exactly what sight you’ll be met with once you do.

and, lo and behold — there he is.

gojo looks the same as always. grinning brightly, a little woflish, wearing those ugly sunglasses and making his way across the room like he owns it. a trait you can’t help but admire, envy, hate and worship at the same time. he plops down next to you like it’s nothing, a little too close for comfort, unconcerned about your concept of personal space.

”whatcha up to?” he chirps, in that sugar sweet tone, layered over with a boyish kind of excitement. there’s a teasing tilt to it, too — the one that always accompanies his voice when he’s speaking to you.

under normal circumstances, you’d flip him off. maybe even just glare at him, silently, or raise a brow in challenge.

but you’re far, far too tired to. too anxious. too in need of sleep, in need of a peaceful breakfast that he oh so cruelly ripped from you. all you can muster is the energy to glance his way.

for just a second, your eyes meet. not like you can actually see them, from behind his glasses — but you know they’re there. menacing and uncanny, bright and excited. too much to handle, right now.

”… morning.”

as soon as the mutter has left your lips, you take a tentative bite of your sandwich. gaze trailing sluggishly back to your plate.

gojo blinks.

he immediately notes that your voice sounds meek. even more so than usual. he expected you to give him a scoff, or even just a timid huff — but no such luck.

you’re just sitting there, quiet, curling into yourself.

after a moment’s consideration, gojo opts to look at you. to really look at you, study your face, the way those twitchy fingers move to curl around the ceramic handle of the cup you’re drinking out of. the way your eyes shift from place to place, unfocused, your eyelids flicking shut every couple seconds. slow.

he’s always been observant — but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re tired.

gojo is silent, for no more than a mere moment; contemplating his next course of action. he’s never seen you like this, before. did something happen?

…

(— well, it doesn’t matter. not his problem.)

”you look like a zombie,” he grins, a little teasing, showing off the white of his teeth. even though you look out of it, he can’t help himself — despite his own intuition telling him to let you be.

you’re just too fun to tease. suguru and shoko only ever raise their eyebrows at him, or stare him down like a misbehaving dog, but you always have a good reaction to give. something to entertain him when he’s bored, distract him when his mind is too full of noise.

so he can’t help but tease you, a little. hoping it’ll soothe the restlessness inside his chest.

but for once, what gojo expects isn’t what he gets.

what he expects is for you to glare at him. tell him to leave you alone, or even just sigh in exasperation — either one would be fine. it’s just mindless enjoyment, to him, a little fun to lighten up his day.

especially now, when suguru is away on some day trip he wasn’t privy to. that traitor. shoko is nowhere to be seen, either, probably off smoking in some random alleyway. or hanging out with one of the kyoto losers.

… the whole dorm is so eerily quiet.

(gojo would never admit it, not in a thousand years… but maybe he’d feel just a little bit lonely without any of you around.)

for a while after waking up, he assumed he’d have to spend the whole day alone. no one to talk to, no one to look at. he was practically dying of boredom. but then he entered the kitchen — and saw his saving grace. his dear little irritable classmate.

he was so relieved. content in the knowledge that he’d get to push your buttons to his heart’s desire, bask in your playful banter and cold, joking little looks until suguru finally comes home.

only this time — you don’t react at all.

you don’t give him what he expects, don’t indulge his little antics, in the way he’s grown so accustomed to. you just keep eating your breakfast, and drinking your coffee, in total silence.

gojo waits, just a couple moments more. hoping for a delayed reaction, a witty counter, a snarky comment. anything.

but it never comes.

finally, he starts to sulk. slumping against the leather seat behind him, quieting down with a low huff. furrowing his brows, as his glossy, cherry-tasting lips curl down into a little pout.

honestly, he’s kind of annoyed. just what is your problem? what is with you, today?

… it’s no fun if you’re not playing along.

gojo can’t help but grumble, a little, under his breath. you’re usually so responsive, so easy to rile up. so what’s wrong? why are you just sitting there?

…

whatever. so what if you’re not talking to him? so what if you won’t even spare him a glance? gojo has better things to do, bigger fish to fry. he wasn’t even that excited, when he saw you. the thought of bantering with you didn’t lift his spirits, even in the slightest.

not even a little bit.

…

but, really — would it take so much effort for you to just say something? to just respond to his friendly little quip? you can’t possibly be that tired.

or, what — did you get insecure, or something? because he called you a zombie? no way. you’re not that sensitive… are you? or is that it?

what a hassle.

you know he’s just messing with you. he knows you know. so why are you acting so….

(sad, gojo wants to think, but he buries the thought before it can reach his frontal cortex. he doesn’t want to empathize with you, not right now — doesn’t want to feel that discomforting pang in his chest.)

a strange sensation bubbles up in his chest. something frustrated, a little unnerved; at your lack of a reaction, the weak glint in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand why — and that frustrates him even more.

why can’t you just bite back, like always?

(… it’s fun when you do.)

the silence lingers on, stretches out across the room, festers and grows as you gulp down your breakfast. all while gojo keeps on sulking, still sitting beside you, waiting for something to happen. he briefly considers getting up and leaving, or saying something annoying to hopefully spur you on —

but you stand up before he can convince himself to go through with either option.

having finished your breakfast, your legs carry you to the sink. finally, you can head back to your room. gojo’s being weirdly quiet, but you pay no mind to it; methodically washing your dishes in silence.

you don’t bother saying goodbye to him, either. still sitting there, seemingly deep in thought, grumbling something under his breath.

he watches as you leave, gaze trailing after you, until you’re completely out of sight.

then he lays down, flat on his back, with a frustrated huff. trying desperately to brush away the memory of your dim eyes, the slight frown on your lips. the dark circles under your eyes, that he tried so hard not to notice because they made him feel so weirdly uncomfortable. the meek, meek look you gave him.

gojo sighs.

(he feels just a tiny, tiny bit bad.)

when you wake up from your slumber, you immediately note that your body feels lighter.

this time, no nightmares came to haunt you. having practically collapsed once your head hit the pillow, your body finally decided to give you some peace of mind, some well needed rest. thankfully.

with a groan, you lazily stretch out your limbs — enjoying the feeling of your veins waking up, gaze falling on the clock on your wall. you’ve only been asleep for about two hours, or so, but it’s more than enough to give you the little jolt of energy that you need.

what to do, what to do. you still have the whole day ahead of you. another nap wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t want to waste your precious free time just rotting in bed — maybe you could take a walk around the schoolyard instead? the cherry blossoms have started to unfurl, and the grounds of the school are just littered with them.

even just the mental image is enough to have you changing into some light and comfortable clothes, reaching a hand out to push your door open. excitement stirring in your veins.

as you do so, something is knocked over.

all you hear is a soft little thud, accompanied by the sensation of something colliding with the door. a low curiosity overtakes you — eagerly peeking around for a look at the mysterious something.

your gaze falls on something pink.

it’s tiny, awfully out of place, just laying unassumingly on the dusty floorboards. as you crouch down to get a better look, you recognize it instantly; a small carton of strawberry milk. a plastic straw plastered on its side, and an evil looking cow mascot staring at you from the front. one of the items sold in the schoolyard’s vending machines — your personal favorite. you drink it every time you need a tiny pick-me-up, the sweet taste always managing to soothe your spirits.

and it was sitting right outside your door.

you stare at it, silently, in deep contemplation. holding it in your hand as the gears turn inside your head. could someone have dropped it? no, that’s dumb — who’d drop it right outside your door and then not pick it up?

… did someone leave it for you, then? because they know you like it? that could be it, maybe, but who would —

…

your mind stills.

(no way.)

when you think about it — that’s the only explanation that makes sense. shoko and geto aren’t there, and you barely know any of your senior students. yaga-sensei would never give you strawberry milk without a lecture on the dangers of cavities, either.

that just leaves one possible culprit.

but you can’t wrap your head around it. why would he do something like that? he doesn’t like you — you know that much. so it couldn’t possibly be him.

… then again, you have seen him drink it. both of you like it, contrary to your other classmates; shoko doesn’t like sweet things in general, and geto wouldn’t go for strawberry milk if he could choose something else. it might as well be the only thing you and gojo have in common — the one thing that binds you two together.

a single carton of strawberry milk.

it’s almost comical.

(if it’s really true — if he really did do it… then you wonder why. maybe he noticed that you were feeling under the weather, and figured it’d make you happy.

you wonder if it’d be foolish of you, to believe that it’s true — if only because you kinda like the idea.)

your feet move on their own, before your mind has a chance to question the decision.

where could he be? in the kitchen, still? in his dorm?

just as you begin to wonder, a flash of white dances in the corners of your vision. when you glance out the window, you see it; white, soft hair, like a fluffy cloud, in the midst of all the pink petals fluttering about.

you stop.

then you start walking again. with more decision, this time. hurrying to the exit.

gojo is sitting right outside the dormitory, on a wooden bench, legs swinging idly as he gazes at the sky. his hair sways slightly with the breeze, soft strands moving and caressing his skin. pink petals dance all around him, gracefully descending down to the ground, together with a trail of bubbles. gojo is blowing them, haphazardly, following their movement with his keen eyes. they glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting all shades of the rainbow.

the sight is just a little bit breathtaking.

the ground crunches beneath your feet, when you take a step forward — and gojo turns towards you. you stiffen like a deer in headlights, instantly regretting your decision. blinking nervously. you walked here almost entirely on impulse, but now that you’re face to face…

(it’s a little scary.)

… still, it’s far too late to back out now. you can’t do much except join him, so that’s exactly what you do — albeit a little hesitantly.

trying to ignore his continuous stare, burning into the side of your head, you plop down beside him. feeling the steady bench beneath you, breathing in the scent of sweet-smelling cherries and soap.

an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air around you both, as he waits for you to say something.

it’s a little tough. mustering up the courage to say anything, even just to face him. the decisiveness you felt just a moment ago has faded, now only the ghost of a sensation — you’re too nervous to verbalize anything.

but eventually, after a deep breath or two, you force yourself to speak. hoping you won’t come to regret it.

”… hey, gojo?”

it’s almost a whisper. soft and fragile, mumbled beneath your breath as you stare at the cherry trees in front of you. you know his eyes are on you, though. you can feel them, almost feel their weight in the palm of your hand. like marbles.

weakly, you raise up the carton of strawberry milk. glancing over at him, not quite managing a smile, but trying your best to look somewhat appreciative.

”thanks.”

a confused blink. gojo looks down the strawberry milk, and then back up at you. eyelashes fluttering.

a moment passes.

then he turns his head away, swiftly, his hair tousled by the movement — a couple pink petals stuck between the soft strands. you can’t see his face anymore.

”i have no idea what you’re talking about,” he huffs, with a voice you’ve never heard him speak through.

when you look a little closer — you think the tips of his ears may be just slightly red. it makes your lips curl up into a small smile, but you barely feel it.

(like this, he’s actually kind of cute.)

cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, dancing joyously, without a care in the world. a spring breeze ruffles gojo’s hair, as he sits beside you, having begun to blow his bubbles again. not saying a word, and looking straight ahead. but you can’t help but stare, as sneakily as you can muster.

you find yourself thinking that he looks right at home, among the petals. fleeting, hard to get a grasp on. so pretty, and so out of reach, despite being so close.

if you wanted to, you could reach over and touch him. you could reach for his sunglasses, lift them off his face, and finally see those eyes he’s so intent on hiding. you could see him, see straight into his soul — and find out who he really is.

you won’t, though. some boundaries aren’t meant to be so callously crossed.

instead, you puncture the pink carton in your hand with the plastic straw, and take a tentative sip. the sweet taste soothes you, straight away, blooming on your tongue. you can’t help but sigh, softly, relaxing even further — it’s absolutely perfect, for this kind of weather. the sight before you, cherry petals and shining bubbles, a boy you don’t like, but definitely don’t hate.

you both look up, following the bubbles with your eyes, as they float up into the sky; as they get smaller and smaller, farther and farther out of reach. neither of you say a word, but the silence is comforting. light.

gojo is the first one to break it — in a voice so small you barely hear it.

”… you don’t look like a zombie.”

a second passes. you’re left blinking in confusion, trying to decipher the sudden statement. you can’t get a good read on his expression, with those eyes of his conveniently hidden; he must have regained his composure, then.

it takes a couple seconds for his words to sink in — but once they do, all pieces seem to fall into place.

and you burst into laughter.

gojo blinks at you, caught off guard, his eyelashes flapping like a little dove scrambling to get off the ground — staring at you like you just grew a second head. that makes you laugh harder, a bout of giggles spilling past your lips — you just can’t help it.

”did —” you wheeze, softly, thoroughly amused. trying and failing to bite back the laughter. ”did you think i was bothered by that, or something?”

gojo looks at you. a little stunned, for a moment. the sight only makes your smile bloom further, eyes crinkled as you meet his gaze. from the angle you’re viewing him through, leaning back against the bench, you catch a glimmer of his eyes. they’re awfully pretty — blue and bright, full of life. when you look closer, you can see tiny, tiny splotches of white.

they look like the blue sky.

you called them menacing, before, but now you aren’t so sure. they seem soft, in the sunlight, especially when seen like this — right after catching him off guard. it’s a rare moment, terribly precious. something to savour.

gojo doesn’t let it linger, though.

after a moment of two, he scoffs — turning away yet again. a soft, soft pout on his lips.

”obviously not,” he huffs, sounding nothing but irritated, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm. ”but with how sensitive you are, i wouldn’t be surprised.”

usually, a comment like that would irk you. now it just makes you giggle, lightheartedly — the tips of his ears turning redder at the sound.

(he really isn’t so bad, after all.)

for a while, you don’t say anything else. afraid of ruining the tender atmosphere. you feel closer to gojo than ever before — and you wonder if maybe this is the gojo that geto sees. childish, but well meaning. arrogant and cocky, but oddly innocent. selfish — but not really. you’re starting to think that you may have been slightly off, with that one.

the strawberry milk on your tongue tastes sweet. a little sweeter than usual, though you choose not to dwell on it.

”hey,” you break the silence, surprising even yourself. the words fall from your lips like soft little breaths, rolling off your tongue like marbles pouring out of a glass bottle. ”i don’t dislike you, you know?”

it’s an impulsive admission. saying it out loud doesn’t feel wrong, though. maybe a little humiliating, sure, but not wrong. not dishonest.

you suspect that gojo may be looking at you, out of the corner of his eye, but you aren’t sure. after all, you’re vehemently avoiding his gaze — a little embarrassed by your own sincerity.

he doesn’t know how to respond. you’re being strangely unpredictable, today, and it makes him feel unsure of himself. your tone is soft, almost friendly. he only ever hears it when you’re talking to shoko or geto.

not learning his lesson, gojo opts to tease you again. as always. afraid to let the silence linger for too long. it’s a halfhearted attempt, though, more of a vaguely amused huff than anything.

”what, got a crush on me or somethin’?”

this time, you don’t scoff, or roll your eyes, or give him an earnest fuck right off. you only chuckle, in a way that almost borders on fond. you’re not one to tease, contrary to the boy on your left, but your words are teasing even still. ”i have better taste than that.”

gojo should be irked, should grumble and bite back, but you don’t give him the chance to.

”i just… you know,” you taste the words on your tongue. ”i still think you’re annoying. and childish.” gojo huffs, and your lips curl up. ”but i really don’t dislike you.”

you take a sip of the strawberry milk, before continuing, hoping it’ll make the words easier to say. ”… and it’s not like i know you, anyway. so i’m sorry for making a bunch of assumptions.”

a pause. for a split second, you quiet down, a little flustered. gnawing on your bottom lip.

”… that’s all i wanted to say,” you exhale, gaze glued to your lap. feeling a heat on your nape.

as always, you can’t tell what gojo’s thinking. out of the corner of your eye, you try to catch a glimpse of his face, but you have a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. his eyes are hidden by those sunglasses, after all, acting as a wall between him and the rest of the world. so you don’t know if the words reach him, if they mean anything at all.

but you hope they do. even as you brush cherry petals and non-existent dust off your lap, and get up to leave.

gojo just sits there, for a second, deep in contemplation.

he tries to bury a certain thought, before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex — before he has to accept that it exists. only this time, he doesn’t succeed. the words die before they reach his tongue, but he hears them, in his head. he hears them loud and clear.

and he flushes under the light of the sun.

(i don’t really dislike you, either.)

what actually ends up leaving his throat is merely a scoff, so faint he doubts you even hear it.

”whatever,” he mutters, hoping it’ll come across as cool and unbothered. it doesn’t.

one last smile reaches your face, before you head back inside. gojo stays behind, on the bench, lost in thought.

tossing the now-empty carton into a trash can, you try to calm yourself down. feeling oddly excited, as if you’ve reached something, the start of an eventual conclusion. something worth cherishing.

you still don’t understand satoru gojo. but you get the impression that you just grew a little bit closer to him. there are layers to him, more than what meets the eye, hidden behind those sunglasses of his. you can only imagine what the world might look like, from his perspective. what you look like, reflected in his eyes, a blur of colours and facial features, sparks and dots.

you wonder if the whole world looks like a painting, to him.

you feel a little ashamed, for thinking you had him all figured out. a spoiled, self-centered rich kid, with no functional empathic abilities. it might be partially true, but you’ll have to reevaluate the statement. to see how well it holds up. you still don’t think his emotional intelligence is anything to gawk at, but you may have been underestimating it. it’s there, despite everything — in those eyes, in that single carton of strawberry milk.

you think there’s a certain maturity, there, in spite of his childishness. or perhaps the latter is no more than a product of the former, a way for damaged children to dress their wounds. the way he carries himself and the way he speaks both seem a bit forced. like he’s used to performing, used to moving in a way that demands attention. all eyes on him, at all times.

you think that sounds just a little exhausting.

even as you return to the safety of your dorm room, you still can’t help but wonder. there’s still so much you don’t know. despite the moment you shared, and the connection you think may be growing between you, he’s still so out of reach. almost lonely, in a way. you wonder what he looks like, when he’s alone, when there’s no one around to perform for.

(what is an actor without their audience?)

and, despite everything, after all is said and done — you really, really don’t understand satoru gojo. not at all, not in the slightest. not one bit.

but you think you’d maybe like to.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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thewritingrowlet · 3 days

Text

The Outing Trip pt. 3, ft. tripleS Xinyu, Dahyun, Nakyoung

tags: deepthroat, creampie, squirting, first time anal, anal creampie, cheating (again), FFM, girl-on-girl (just a bit)

word count: ~9k

author's note: this took a bit longer than I had anticipated, but I hope it's satisfactory nonetheless. I plan to write another tripleS fic based on one of the ideas in my inbox, please look forward to it.

You’re ready to send Xinyu back to her room after giving her a shower and making sure that she’s presentable should anyone see her on the way back. “I’m glad I didn’t mark you; it’d be awkward if someone saw you running around with hickeys on your neck”, you comment as you comb her hair. “I mean, I have concealers”, she says, “but I get your point”.

You go in for a quick good night kiss before she leaves. “Can I ask what you’re doing with the video?”, you question her. Xinyu shows you a cheeky smile, “you’ll see soon enough—I promise I won’t leak it, oppa”. You make her do a pinky promise before sending her away, “I love you, baby—we’ll be going over their essays tomorrow morning, okay? Good night”. Xinyu waves at you as she’s leaving the room, “love you more, oppa. Good night”.

You woke up at 4 am, way before your alarm had the chance to buzz. You feel refreshed even though you didn’t sleep as much as you usually do, and you have Xinyu to thank for that; “sex is the best thing to do before sleep, oppa”, she said some time ago. You decide to spend the time by exercising, maybe do a shootaround if you’re lucky. As you enter the resort’s gym, you see a basketball sitting on a rack by its lonesome, and you’re tempted to skip warmup and mess around with it, but you don’t want to risk getting a cramp. You decide to take the ball with you to make sure no one steals it from you.

You start the treadmill at the lowest speed and walk on it for 5 minutes before increasing the speed and repeating it until you reach your walking speed limit to make sure that your body is fully awake before you do anything else. You then get off the treadmill and lift some weights, adding the weight after each two eight-count reps until you reach 80 kg.

“Surely that’s enough warmup; time to have fun now. What do you guys think?”, you ask the empty gym and get no answer, “great minds think alike, hey?”. You feel excited to be able to play basketball after not having played for months; “I hope I don’t miss too much; that’d be embarrassing—not that there’s anyone watching”, you utter. “I’m watching”, a girl says behind you, and you almost pass out from the shock. “What the fuck are you doing, Dahyun-ah?”, you ask her. “I always wake up around this time, oppa—what are you doing?”, she points at you. “Just trying to move my body a bit; we’ve been sitting a lot, haven’t we?”, you shrug, “how did you know I’m here, though?”. “I was on my phone when I heard your door open and close again, so I decided to check and sneakily followed you here”, she says, “please, start doing whatever you came here for”.

You stand on the free throw line and take your first shot, making it go through cleanly with the help of muscle memory. “Whoo!”, Dahyun cheers you, “more, oppa!”. You’d be lying if you said that her cheers don’t excite you, as you’re smiling like a kid after making each shot from the same spot. After consistently making a handful of shots from the line, you move to the top of the key and attempt the first long range shot of the day. Time seemingly slows down as the ball leaves your hand and makes its way to the rim, your eyes locked on to it the whole time. The satisfying sound the nylon nets makes when the ball goes through the rim makes you feel like you’re about to bust, and you’re met with Dahyun’s loud cheer. “My God, you’re such a do-it-all, aren’t you?”, she says.

You pick up the ball and looks at Dahyun with a smile. You see that she has ditched her jacket and undone the first few buttons of her pajama top; her cleavage exposed for you to see. You pretend to not see it, but Dahyun bends backwards just enough to make you drool; “I thought you’ve promised to not do this again ever? Do not betray Xinyu, boy”, the angel on your shoulder warns you. You try your hardest to shake off the thoughts and focus on playing basketball again.

“Oppa, you’re so fucking hot”, Dahyun says as you walk up to her, your T-shirt drenched in sweat. “I smell, though”, you sniff your armpits, “oh, God, that is foul”. Dahyun gets on her tippy toes right in your face, getting dangerously close to you, “I haven’t had your cock in my pussy, oppa; when will you give it to me? Do I not deserve it, oppa?”. You take a deep breath and think about your options. That is, until you hear a familiar voice in your head; “go on, son; give her what she wants”, the devil says, “you don’t want to waste this opportunity, do you?”. You take a few seconds of silence and wait for the angel to make a counter argument, but you hear none—he’s probably busy trying to find the biggest hammer to smack you in the back of the head with; “okay, fine; you want it? Come get it”, you say to Dahyun.

You take off your soaked T-shirt before sitting down on the bench next to Dahyun. She then moves to straddle your lap and comes in for a kiss. “We need to talk as soon as we leave this place, sweetie”, you say to her. “Mmh, sure”, Dahyun says as she moves to kneel between your legs, “give it to me, oppa—please, I can’t wait any more”. You take off your shorts along with your boxers, and your cock jumps out and smacks Dahyun in the face. You mutter a soft “sorry” to her, but she dismisses it, “getting hit in the face with a cock is my favorite pastime”.

Dahyun parts her lips and wrap them around your cock, making you let out a low moan at the first contact. You pet her head softly as she’s busy taking your cock deep, “good job, sweetie; keep going, okay?”. Dahyun, hearing your approval, goes straight down and stuffs her throat with your cock without gagging; an incredible feat, all things considered. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, sweetie?”, you say to her between moans. Feeling suffocated, however, Dahyun removes your cock from her throat with a sharp gasp and falls backwards onto her butt. “Holy fuck, oppa”, she says, her chin painted with spit, “I can’t; I’m sorry”. You pull her into your lap and peck her cheek, “it’s okay, sweetie; you tried your best. Let’s catch our breaths for now, okay?”. Dahyun nods and tucks her head under your chin as she tries to compose herself.

“Oppa, can I put it in?”, she asks you after getting herself together. Your heart rate instantly spikes thanks to her question, and you’re not entirely sure if you’ll let her do it. Dahyun, seeing you be unresponsive, asks again, “please, oppa; I’ll make it worthwhile for you”. You look at her right in the eyes and see her genuine desperation, so you agree to her request for sex. “We need to be quick, though, sweetie”, you say to her.

Dahyun lifts her butt off your lap just enough so that she can put your cock in her pussy. She lets out a long moan as she slowly sits down on your cock. “S-so big—ah-ah, fuck”, she says when your shaft is fully inside her. “Come on, sweetie; let’s do this”, you whisper to her ear, and she replies to you with a nod. You hold Dahyun by the waist and thrust up roughly, making her yelp loudly in surprise. “Oppa—ngh, fuck—yes-yes, I love it”, she chants softly into your ears. Dahyun’s ability to control her volume during sex is admirable—Xinyu would just scream as loud as she could if given even the slightest chance.

You keep bouncing Dahyun on your cock until Dahyun calls for a timeout. “Oppa, please—angh-ah—stop for a moment”, she says. “You okay?”, you ask while panting, exhaustion finally catching on. Dahyun pants a few times before answering, “I-I’m so close, oppa”. You’re confused; if she’s so close, why would she want to take a break? Wouldn’t it be better to keep going until she reaches her orgasm? “I want to make sure if you’re close too; I-I want to cum with you”, she says. “Aha, that’s why”, you think to yourself, “if you can keep gripping me like this, I’ll cum soon”.

You stand up from the bench and hook her legs with your arms. “You ready? We’ll cum together, sweetie”, you say to Dahyun. She gives you a nod, thus you start smashing your cock into her pussy roughly to get yourself and Dahyun to the finish line before people start waking up. The rough fucking, combined with the unfavorable position, makes Dahyun scream loudly—you silently wish you had another hand to cover her mouth and stifle her screams with.

“I’M CUMMING!”, Dahyun shrieks before biting her lips to mute the sound. Dahyun’s body starts shaking violently as orgasm takes her to the sky, removing your cock from her pussy in the process. You hear the slosh of her juice hit the wooden floor underneath you. “Do you always squirt, sweetie?”, you ask her. “Ngh, fuck—o-only when I’m with you”, she answers, “I-I don’t squirt when I touch myself”. You free her from your arms and have her stand up next to you so that she doesn’t step in the puddle.

You move her hair that is covering half her face before giving her a peck in the forehead; “I’m glad I can please you”, you say to her. Dahyun smiles in gratitude before coming in for a fleeting kiss. “What about you, oppa? You didn’t cum”, she asks, seemingly concerned about your pleasure. “Don’t worry about me, sweetie; I’ll figure something out. I’ll see you after your team building, okay?”, you say to her. Dahyun tidies her clothes and leaves you alone in the empty gym. You wipe Dahyun’s little puddle with the dry part of your T-shirt; “people should think this is sweat”, you say to yourself.

You text Xinyu as you’re leaving the gym, telling her that you want to have a little bit of morning sexbefore essay review. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there”, she replies.Xinyu is standing in front of your room when you arrive. Seeing that you’re shirtless, Xinyu bites her bottom lip sensually. “God, you’re so hot, oppa”, she comments as you drag her into your room.

Guilt starts creeping up on you as you watch Xinyu take off her clothes, “I can’t believe I called Xinyu to finish Dahyun’s job—fuck”. You’re lost in the sea of thoughts until Xinyu throws you a lifebuoy, “oppa, are you okay? Thinking about something?”. “I’m sorry, love”, you deflect, “something came to mind—it’s okay, though; it’s not important”. You pull Xinyu into your lap before expressing your love, and you’re trying your hardest to maintain your boner despite the surge of guilt and uncertainty.

“Oppa, you don’t seem to be in the correct state of mind for this”, Xinyu says, “talk to me, please”. You decide to tell her about your relationship with Dahyun without revealing too much detail; “Dahyun-ie has been chasing me around, Xinyu-yah. She’s said multiple times that she likes me, a-and I don’t know how to act”. You close your eyes and brace yourself for a hard slap from Xinyu, but it never lands. “Is that why you cried in front of Professor Kim, oppa? Because you didn’t know how you could please us both at the same time?”, she asks, her tone soft as silk. You answer her question with a nod, “I wasn’t sure if I could talk to you about it, so I kept it to myself. That is, until Dahyun pressed on and proposed to be my side chick, and I didn’t know what to do”. Xinyu holds your head with both hands and kisses you, “we’ll talk about this again soon, okay? Do you still want to have sex?”. You let Xinyu go from your embrace wordlessly, and she starts putting on her clothes again. “There’s nothing to worry about, oppa; I still love you and will continue to love you”, she says.

Xinyu pulls you into bed and lies down on your body, “let’s cuddle until breakfast time, oppa”. She is really doing her best to comfort you and remind you how much she loves you, and despite knowing that she means well, it makes you feel more and more guilty for giving Dahyun even the smallest chance to be with you—cock-in-pussy sex isn’t small, though; let’s be for real for a second. “Oppa, say something, please”, she says while poking your stomach playfully. “I love you, baby”, you say to her, “I love you so much”. Xinyu looks at you and shows you her cute smile, which you adore so much, “I love you too, oppa”.

After having breakfast with everyone at the resort’s restaurant, you head back to your room with Xinyu and invite Nakyoung and the ministers over for essay review. “Welcome, guys”, Xinyu greets them as they enter the room. Aecha immediately hugs Xinyu and starts sobbing, “my brother’s platelet level is dropping, Xinyu-yah, and-and I-I want to go home—let me go home, please”. Xinyu looks at you over her shoulder and you nod to her in approval. “Of course, Aecha-yah. We’ll find you a bus after this, okay?”, Xinyu says.

Everyone sits in a circle on the floor to review project ideas the recruits have come up with yesterday. Aecha says that she has chosen her top 2 and hands them to Nakyoung—Aecha has always been the diligent one, and the fact that Jaehwan is sick motivated her to work faster so that she can leave sooner. Xinyu whispers to you and asks for permission to take Aecha for a walk. “Go on, baby; try and make Aecha feel better, okay?”, you give Xinyu your approval.

After Xinyu and Aecha leave, you and the others start going over the essays on your laptops and tablets, breaking them down one by one and determining if it can be implemented in the future. You hear Nakyoung laugh as she reads an essay. “This one is similar to the project that made Xinyu cry back then”, Nakyoung tells you, “surely you won’t approve, right, oppa?”. “Let’s put that to the side for now; I need to hear Xinyu’s opinion before we can decide if want to throw that into the bin”, you say to her.

Xinyu ended up not returning to the meeting, knocking on your door about an hour after the review had finished. “Hi, oppa”, she says in a low-spirited voice, “Aecha is on the bus heading to the city”. “No wonder you two didn’t return—thanks for taking care of her, baby”, you say to her. Xinyu drags you to the bed and sits on your lap, “Aecha was quite adamant about going home, so I thought I might as well help her go home”. You peck her forehead in praise, “you did very well, baby; I’m proud of you. Did you check on the others, by the way? Are they done with team building?”. “Actually, I talked with Dahyun-ie”, she reveals, “I know about your little romance”. “Ah, fuck”, you say in your head, “I’m so fucking dead”.

“Yah, are you listening or not?”, Xinyu gets off your lap and calls out to you, snapping you out of your silence. You dare not look at her in the eyes, “y-yes, I am, baby”. She slaps you with all her might, and you hear a sob after. “Don’t call me that, Jung Jisung—you fucking lied to me”, she says as tears run down her cheeks, “sightseeing? Really?”. You can’t come up with anything else but an apology, and you know full well that it isn’t enough. “Tell me what happened on the ferry—go on, lie to me again; I fucking dare you”, she threatens. “I, um, I got a blowjob from Dahyun-ie”, you confess, still not looking at her in the eyes. “What happened to your honesty, hm? Did you throw it into the sea or something? Did you send it down to her throat along with your cum?”, she asks in disbelief as she breaks down in tears. You try to approach her slowly, but Xinyu retreats and looks at you in disgust. “Baby, I’m sorry” is the only sentence you managed to come up with. “I don’t want to talk to you; I’m leaving”, Xinyu says as she walks out of the door, leaving you alone to simmer in regret and shame.

You hear some rapid knocks on the door, and you see through the hole that it’s Nakyoung, seemingly mad about something. She slaps you in the cheek forcefully as soon as you open the door. “Fuck you”, she says after the slap, “you broke her heart, you fucking asshole”. If this were any normal situation, you’d be hurt by the manner of her speech, but considering the events prior, you’re more shameful than offended. “I’m sorry”, you say to her. “I don’t want your apology, but I want you to be a man and fix this mess—are we clear?”, she delivers her demand while pressing her index finger on your chest, her eyes fiery. Seeing that you’re not answering, she asks again if you understand her words. “Yes, I understand”, you say, letting out a depressed sigh after.

Nakyoung leaves after delivering her demands, slamming the door as she does. You feel your phone vibrate a few times in your pocket as you’re getting back to bed.

[🍒] I’m sorry I ruined it for you I’m so sorry I’ll leave you two alone from now on I’m sorry for everything

No matter how much Dahyun feels guilty, you’re still the one at fault for falling for the devil’s deception and hurting your beloved girlfriend who, quote, “has been with you through storms and tranquility”. “Ah, fuck, I’m so fucking stupid”, you slap yourself in the forehead, “fuck, Xinyu, I’m so sorry, baby”. “The audacity to call her ‘baby’ after all this bullshit you’ve pulled”, the angel returns with an insult, and you hope that he has found a sledgehammer to smash your head in with.

You muster up the courage and text Professor Kim, hoping that she’ll allow you to talk to her and ask for counsel. She calls you a few minutes after you sent the text. “Hello, president. You want to talk about something?”, she asks. “Hello, professor”, you greet her, “um, Xinyu has found out about my little stunt and now she’s livid—I’ve taken two slaps in the cheeks, professor”. “No hard feelings, Jisung-ah, but I think you deserve it”, she says, almost in a mocking tone—one that you deserve, “I’m guessing you’re now wondering how you can fix this”. You involuntarily shed a tear, “yes, madam, I am; any clues? I’ve apologized, by the way”. The professor sighs over the phone, “well, I suggest letting things run their course for now; I imagine Xinyu needs some time before she’ll allow you to approach her again—what about the other girl?”. You tell Professor Kim that Dahyun has apologized over text and promised to leave you alone, and it presumably satisfies her. “Yeah, just give Xinyu some space for now. That’s all I have to say”, she says. You thank her for letting you call her and hang up the phone after.

You’re now lying in bed, using all your brain cells to come up with a plan to make it up to Xinyu. One brain cell suggests giving her flowers, and as tempting as it sounds, you’re not sure if a bouquet wrapped with a big ribbon saying “I’m sorry” will convey your feelings properly—the last thing you want is for Xinyu to think that you’re taking this lightly, which you are not. You look around the room for ideas, and you see a small piece of paper and a pencil next to it sitting on the table. “Ah, I should try writing a letter to Xinyu”, you say to yourself. You sit at the table and start stringing words together thoughtfully using two of the oldest tools known to man.

“Dear Xinyu

Hello, this is Jung Jisung

Before I begin, please allow me to call you by these names for now as I don’t know if I’ll get to do it again.

I’m sorry for hurting you, sweetheart. I understand that I did such a horrific job of being the man in this relationship; lying to you and hurting you by yearning for something that was never appropriate for me. If you, my love, were willing to forgive me and take me back in your arms, I would be more than grateful—more than mere words can express—but considering how hurt you are because of me, I dare not hope, no matter how much I want to.

I love you, and I’m sorry for hurting you.

I hope this letter finds you well.

Yours always,

Jung Jisung”

After writing the letter, you fold the paper in half and write your signature on the cover and a small heart that you fill in with pencil. You put the letter on your chest and pray that Xinyu can sense the sincerity and honesty in the words. You then start walking out of your room and towards Xinyu and Nakyoung’s on the other side of the corridor.

You slide the letter through the bottom gap and knock a few times. Seeing that you get no response after standing in front of their door for a minute, you turn in the other direction and start walking back towards your room. You’ve taken around a dozen steps when you hear a door swing open behind you and feel someone crash into you and wrap their arms around you while crying. “Oppa”, the quivering voice steals your attention, “I love you—fuck—I love you so much, oppa”. Hearing the familiar voice makes you shed a tear, and you turn around for a hug. “I love you too, Xinyu-yah. I’m so sorry for hurting you, my love”, you say as tears start running down your cheeks. You and Xinyu cry in each other’s arms, showing each other how real the feelings you have for each other are. You finally compose yourself after a few minutes and invite her to your room for privacy. Xinyu agrees to your idea, so you carry her in your arms and rush towards your room.

You sit down in the middle of the bed with Xinyu in your arms, and you fire all the “I love you” and “I’m sorry” bullets in your magazine. “I’ve been waiting for you to knock on the door for so long, oppa; I was sitting behind the door when you slid that letter, you know”, she says, her voice trembling from the emotions. “I’m so sorry, love; I was so busy trying to come up with an apology”, you say to her before pecking her head, “I’m so sorry, baby”. Xinyu bursts out crying again, seemingly overwhelmed with feelings, “please, please don’t hurt me like that again—I’m begging you, oppa; I don’t want to hate you”. “I won’t, baby—cross my heart”, you deliver a promise to her, one that you plan on never breaking as long as you two are alive.

After regaining composure, Xinyu moves to sit on your lap and puts her hands on your shoulders. “Oppa, why did you lie to me? You, of all people, lied to me, oppa—I thought we agreed to be honest to each other?”, she says, her tone heightening in disbelief. “I’m so sorry, love; the only answer I can give you is that I was thinking with my penis and not my brain”, you give Xinyu the frankest answer you can think of. “If-if by any chance you were bored with our sex, oppa, you could’ve just told me and I would’ve come up with something to spice it up. I-I’ll do whatever you want me to, you know that, right?”, she says. You shake your head in denial, “I promise you it was not about sex at all, love; I’m always satisfied and happy with what we usually do. I just happened to let lust fill my head and control my actions, which is never acceptable for a man to do, and for that I sincerely apologize”. Xinyu seems to be satisfied with your answer, as she rewards you with a peck on the lips before tucking her head under your chin. “I love you, oppa. Don’t lie to me again, please; being lied to fucking hurts”, she says.

You ask Xinyu if she wants to go to the restaurant and get some food after she has regained calmness, and in typical Zhou Xinyu fashion, she accepts your offer without thinking twice. You see Nakyoung outside her room as you’re walking towards the restaurant together with Xinyu. “Oh, hey, look at you, holding hands like a happy couple—you’ve sorted out your dissent, haven’t you?”, she comments with a smile of relief. You smile and nod, “yeah, Xinyu was kind enough to forgive me and give me the chance to redeem myself”. “That’s nice to hear”, Nakyoung says, “so where are you going now? I know we have some time to kill before announcing the essay winners”. You tell her that you’re going to the restaurant, and Nakyoung asks if she can tag along. “Like you’ve never done that before, Miss Secretary”, you say in playful mockery, earning a light smack of annoyance from Nakyoung.

Xinyu and Nakyoung say they want to have crispy chicken steak and fries, so you get the same thing as them to save time. “Oh, wow, look at that!”, Xinyu excitedly claps her hands when she sees the waiter set the food on the table. Seeing Xinyu be happy brings joy to your heart and reminds you to stay loyal and honest to her. “Haha, Jisung-oppa is smiling like a dummy”, Nakyoung teases you. Xinyu smiles at you softly while reaching out to hold your hand, “I love you, oppa—please don’t lie to me again”. You know that speaking will make you emotional, so you reply to her with a loving smile and a finger heart.

You head towards the hall with Xinyu after the lunch-dinner—petition to call it “lunner”—while Nakyoung opts to take a walk around the resort. “Oppa, wait”, Xinyu calls out to you while looking at her phone, “Chanwoo just texted me; he said that Jungwoo-oppa just fought someone again”. “Shin Jungwoo?”, you sigh, “we’ll call him later, babe; let him catch his breath for now—did Chanwoo say anything about the other guy, though?”. Xinyu shows you her chat with Chanwoo, “he fought a bully, oppa. Apparently, Professor Bae knows about this as well”.

You sit in the front row with Xinyu next to you, sharing laughs and giggles with her, rejoicing in the mended relationship. You make a joke that Xinyu finds to be exceptionally funny, causing her to laugh out loud while clapping her hands in amusement. As you wait for her laugh to die down, you see Dahyun open the door in the corner of your eyes. You turn your head slightly to make eye contact, but Dahyun evades it and disappears behind the door. It’s unfortunate that it had to end like this, but you’d like to think that this is the best possible outcome as you’re now in Xinyu’s arms again, as self-centered as it sounds. You silently promise to make it right to Dahyun and cut your ties properly—possibly tearily.

Nakyoung takes the stage after everyone has gathered in the hall. “Good evening, everyone. We will be announcing the 3 teams that have come up with the best ideas and those 3 teams will do a presentation right here, right now—we’ve asked you to prepare for a presentation, haven’t we?”, she says, her voice heard through the speakers. Nakyoung then proceeds to announce the top 3 and congratulates each team as they come up to the stage. Nakyoung tells them to do rock-paper-scissors to determine the order of presentation before giving up her spot on the stage and sitting down.

Reading is cool and all, but it doesn’t allow you to hear the rationale behind every word that is written. An idea that might look uninteresting on paper can turn out to be exciting when you know the thought process behind it, as proven by the number 2 team, who has come up with a seemingly mundane idea of visiting an elementary school nearby and participating in teaching 1st and 2nd graders. They had read this journal that spoke of increasing student’s learning stimulus in class and decided that they wanted to try it out themselves. “The university might get positive publicity, but more importantly, we aim to be able to help the teachers and students, since we believe that education—especially in elementary—should not be dull”, the speaker says. The speaker and friends look at you, hoping that you’ll say something positive, and honestly, you’re already sold on the idea. You don’t want to jump the gun and ruin it for the next team, opting to start collective claps with the audience instead.

You’re struggling to focus on the last team since the second one has already managed to steal your heart. “I need you to pay attention on this one, baby; I’m already sold on the previous one”, you whisper to Xinyu. She pinches your thigh in annoyance, “you can’t be biased like that, oppa”. You want to make a counter argument, but Nakyoung pinches your other thigh firmly, forcing you to focus back on the presentation.

Not only does time fly by when it’s spent with your loved ones, but also when you’re not paying attention to your surroundings. One minute you were (loosely) listening to the presentation, next minute you see Nakyoung end the session and send everyone to their rooms. “I swear, initiation trips did not used to go by this quickly”, you say to Xinyu. “Yeah, well, we were the ones doing these assignments back then, and now we’re the ones sitting back—the cycle never ends, oppa”, she says. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, what now?”, you ask the two girls in front of you. “You said that we’d call Jungwoo-oppa”, Xinyu reminds you of your promise from earlier. Nakyoung, who used to have a crush on Jungwoo, asked in curious worry as to why you’re calling Jungwoo. “He fought someone earlier, Naky-yah; we need to check up on him”, you explain briefly to her.

The three of you rush to your bedroom and sit on the floor in a circle. You find Jungwoo’s name on your phone and call him, and he picks up after two rings. “Good evening, this is Shin Jungwoo”, he says over the phone. “Good evening to you as well, this is Jung Jisung. Where are you, man?”, you ask him. “I’m at a burger shop with someone—Yooyeon-ie just left, by the way”, he says, “can I help you, president?”. You proceed to ask him about the rumors, and he explains that a group of freshmen has been bullying a fellow freshman and that he fought one of the bullies. “We can’t keep defending you, man”, you say to Jungwoo. Impatient, Nakyoung steals your phone from you and cuts off Jungwoo mid-sentence, “oppa! Oppa, are you okay? Are you hurt? You need to stop fighting people, seriously”. Jungwoo doesn’t recognize Nakyoung’s voice at first, thus making Nakyoung seemingly irritated. Jungwoo then promises to talk about this again when you come back and bring the victim, a girl named Kim Suyeon, along and introduce her to you.

Nakyoung starts letting out tears as soon as Jungwoo ends the call, her old feelings for him resurfacing after being buried for nearly two years. “I’m proud of him for standing up against bullying, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t let his fists fly so easily”, Nakyoung says as she wipes her tears. Xinyu hugs Nakyoung from the side and offers comfort while you hope that Jungwoo would stop fighting bullies, no matter how big of an example he’s made of these assholes. You also sympathize with Nakyoung, who used to have a crush on Jungwoo and only “leaving” him because she got scared after seeing him knock someone out with her own eyes. “Let’s convince him to become an advocate against bullying instead of a fighter, okay?”, you pat Nakyoung’s shoulder softly to calm her.

Nakyoung jumps off the bed and leaves your room, citing that she needs some fresh air. Xinyu turns to you in confusion, “u-uh, sure; I-I’ll see you later, Naky-yah”. You sigh in exhaustion as one more huge wave crashes into you. “I need to lie down; my head hurts”, you complain. Xinyu climbs your body and sprays your face with kisses, “oh, no, no, no—headache, leave my Jisung-oppa alone!”. You chuckle at her little aegyo, “you’re so cute, baby”. Xinyu covers her cheeks to hide her tomato cheeks, “aw, please don’t say that; I-I’m just trying to help”. You get up to a sitting position with Xinyu on your lap; “I’m so thankful for you, baby. I’m so sorry for hurting you”, you say to her, sounding as sincere as possible. “I was going to forgive you regardless of whether you’d apologize or not”, Xinyu says as she grabs something out of her pocket, “this letter helped me, um, get over it, I guess”.

You put a hand on Xinyu’s nape, and she immediately goes in for a kiss to tell you that she has forgiven you and accepted you in her arms again. “Hurt her again and I’ll smash your penis and balls with this hammer”, the angel delivers an ultimatum, and you dare not ignore it. Xinyu breaks the kiss with a gasp, “fuck, I can’t take it anymore”. You look at her with raised eyebrows, and that is when Xinyu pulls her T-shirt over her head and throws it away, “take me, oppa—please, I’m desperate”. It’s crazy to think how Xinyu relies on you heavily for everything, from assignments to sexual pleasure. You reach behind her back and unlatch her bra quickly before palming her tits.

Xinyu seems to be very impatient, as she humps your crotch even though the both of you still have joggers on. You pinch her nipples in response, “you need to be patient, love”. “O-oppa”, she says, throwing her head back in thirst and frustration, “please, make me yours again”. You lay her down on the bed and take your clothes off swiftly. You grab the waistband of her joggers and see the wet spot on her crotch, “horny much, baby girl?”. She wants to express with words how horny she is, but since her head has been taken over by lust, she only manages to come up with unintelligible sounds.

You get in between her legs after taking off her panties, ready to plunge into her warm cavern. “Baby, I’m going in”, you say to her, and Xinyu closes her eyes in response. As much as you’re tempted to tease her with your fingers, you don’t want to wait any longer, resulting in you diving deep into her right away. “Oppa, kiss me please”, she says, her arms reaching out to hug you. Xinyu uses her long limbs to secure you in place as soon as you lean forward for a hug and a kiss. Despite being stuck in a love lock, you’re still able to move your hips and fuck her at a consistent pace, earning soft bites and moans from Xinyu.

“Oppa, I’ve missed you”, she says between her soft moans, “I’ve missed your cock”. You laugh internally considering that you did in fact had sex with her yesterday, but you don’t want to ruin the mood thus replying to her with a deep groan. “You’re so warm and tight, princess—so fucking good”, you praise her as you start fucking her faster. “Yes-yes—oh, fuck! Please, oppa, fuck me; I’m your good girl”, she says, her voice shaky from your fast thrusts. You gather your strength and use it to fuck her deep and fast, aiming to make her cum in the next few minutes.

Your plan works, as she announces into your ear that she’s about to explode. Xinyu tightens her grip on your cock, squeezing you hard, as if trying to milk your cum out of you. As a result, you blow your load into Xinyu with no prior consent from her. “I came as well; sorry, love”, you say to her. “N-no”, she deflects, ”I—fuck—I’m glad we came together, oppa”. You put your lips on her forehead as the both of you ride the high of orgasm together. “Oppa, my lips are down here”, she says softly with a chuckle. You reply to her chuckle with your own as you move down to kiss her passionately.

Xinyu releases you from her strangling limbs and you immediately fall to the side in exhaustion. “I’m spent, oppa; take care of me, please”, she says as she moves to hug you from the side. “I came inside you without asking, love”, you say to her in an apologetic voice. Xinyu palms your limp cock and strokes it softly, “that means I’m officially yours again, oppa. Thank you for taking me back in your arms”. You peck the top of her head and tell her that it was supposed to be your line. “I love you, oppa—we didn’t catch the cum drip on video, though”, she says. You ask her what she’s doing with that video, but she refuses to answer properly, saying that you “need to be patient” and that you “will find out soon enough”. You’re not entirely satisfied with her answer, but you hope that it won’t end up terribly for you and Xinyu.

You were half asleep when you heard two different voices near you, presumably discussing something. “Are you sure he consents to this?”, one of them says. “I’m 99% sure”, the other says. You slowly open your eyes and see two figures standing side-by-side in front of the bed. “Who are you?”, you say as you rub your eyes. “Why, I’m your girlfriend, of course”, Xinyu says, confirming her presence in the room. The other person greets you, and hearing it sends shock throughout your body. “Kim Nakyoung? What are you—yo, I’m naked; cover your eyes!”, you say, your tone high in disbelief. “Respectfully, oppa, I like the sight—never seen you like this before; damn, you’re so hot”, Nakyoung says, letting out a giggle after.

“Nakyoung-ie has been longing for a man’s touch, oppa”, Xinyu explains, “I figured you could help”. “Are you sure?”, you ask her, “you didn’t forget what had happened earlier, did you?”. “I consent this time”, Xinyu answers, “please, oppa, help a girl out, please”. Xinyu even said “please” twice, probably without realizing it, and you can only let out a sigh. “I’m only doing this because Xinyu consents, just so we’re clear—I’ve hurt her enough”, you say. Xinyu claps her hands in excitement, “you’re the best, oppa!”.

You get off the bed and stand in front of Nakyoung, “what are we thinking?”. Nakyoung takes a few steps back and starts undressing herself. Xinyu, who has always had the image of someone who plays for both sides, proves her “open-mindedness” by kissing Nakyoung’s neck until Nakyoung pushes her away. “Don’t mark me, Xinyu-yah”, Nakyoung says. You pinch Xinyu’s cheek lightly for her clumsiness before turning to Nakyoung to peck her lips. “I need to hear your explicit consent”, you say to her. Nakyoung puts her hand up like she was testifying, “I, with no doubt in my mind, consent to everything we’re about to do tonight”. You chuckle at her words, “everything, hm? Let’s see how far you think ‘everything’ is”.

You hold Nakyoung’s hands and pull her into your lap as you sit on the end of the bed. You see in the corner of your sight that Xinyu has found comfort on the armchair, watching the both of you like a cuckold. Nakyoung takes your hands and guides them to her bare breasts, “what do you think of them, oppa?”. You take her tits in your hands and softly squeeze them, “so soft, Naky-yah; I like it”. Nakyoung looks at Xinyu quickly before looking back at you, “ac-actually, I-I want to be called by pet names, oppa”. Her words sting your heart; you used to call Dahyun by pet names behind Xinyu’s back, and now Nakyoung wants you to do the same in front of Xinyu. You glance at Xinyu and see her nod in approval. “Alright, sweetie”, you comply to her request, “are you ready for this?”.

You lie down in bed after Nakyoung shows you the green light, your cock pointing to the ceiling in front of her stomach. “That’s so fucking big”, she comments as she starts stroking your cock. The softness of her hands makes you think that maybe she has put on some lotion or the sort, “your hands are so soft, sweetie”. Nakyoung smiles shyly, “um, Xinyu gave me a bunch of tips before this, and this is the result”. “Before this? How long have you guys been planning for this?”, you ask, bewildered. “Been a while, actually—the cum video was my idea, by the way”, Nakyoung reveals, her hands still busy stroking your cock. You turn your eyes towards Xinyu, and she winks at you while smiling.

Nakyoung moves her head, hovering centimeters over your cock. “Oppa, look at me, please”, she says. You make and maintain eye contact with her as she parts her lips and slowly go down on your cock, choking halfway to your pelvis. The little mishap causes her to remove your cock from her mouth, gasping sharply as she does. “Fuck, how does Xinyu manage to do this all the time?”, Nakyoung comments. “It took her a few months to get used to me, Naky-yah; I don’t mean to overstep but if you want to be like her, you’ll need a lot of practice”, you say to her. “I can be your side girl, oppa—if Xinyu allows it, that is”, she says, replicating Dahyun’s line from some time ago. You’re stunned; you’re not sure how much Nakyoung and Xinyu know, thus you’re unsure about how to respond aside from a fake groan to deflect her proposal.

Nakyoung returns to the task at hand (literally) and take your cock in her mouth again. She seems to have made it her goal to reach your pelvis, as proven by how she keeps going down, fighting her gag reflex in the process. She finally reaches the bottom of your cock after trying so hard; her spit is leaking everywhere as her jaws are wide open to accommodate your girth, and she’s making this very sensual gurgling sound. “Fuck, that’s a good girl”, you and Xinyu say at the same time, causing the both of you to chuckle. Nakyoung finally goes up after a few seconds, falling backwards onto her butt as she does. “H-how did you two say that at—hah, fuck—at the same time? Great minds think alike or something?”, Nakyoung says as she wipes her mouth. “I say good girl a lot to Xinyu during sex”, you explain, “I guess she’s fond of that line”.

Nakyoung looks at Xinyu and asks for permission to put your cock in her pussy, and Xinyu shows her approval by getting naked, ready to touch herself while watching; “go on; I’ll watch”, Xinyu says. “Oppa, I hope you consent as well”, Nakyoung says as she hovers over your cock. “I do, but can I ask if you’re okay doing it raw?”, you ask. “You’re my third, oppa, and I know that Xinyu was your first so it should be fine—I get tested regularly, by the way”, she says. Nakyoung proceeds to lower herself until your cock touches her entrance, letting out a gasp at the first contact; “I’m about to get ripped in half”, she murmurs.

She lets out a long, pained moan as your cock gradually fills her pussy. “Ngh, fuck—so fucking big”, she says as she feels her muscles stretch to contain your shaft. Nakyoung finally manages to sit squarely on your lap after struggling with your size for a while. She then plants her hands on your abs before she starts fucking herself with your cock. You’ve never seen Nakyoung make this sort of expression before, and you find it to be arousing—Xinyu used to make this face during the early days of your relationship, as she also struggled getting used to your cock. “Go on, Nakyoung-ah; show us what you can do”, you challenge her. She accepts your challenge and starts going up and down on your shaft rapidly while letting out moans which volume is making you concerned. You glance quickly to the left where Xinyu is sitting and see that she has her legs spread and rested on the armrest while her hand is vigorously rubbing her pussy.

Nakyoung has found a decent pace after getting comfortable with the stretch, and you find the sounds of her and Xinyu’s moan to be very arousing. You look at Xinyu again and summon her to you by moving your index finger, and she obliges immediately. Xinyu knows what you want and sits right on your face, her lush thighs serving as noise cancelling headphones. You can’t see what’s happening up there, but since you don’t hear anyone moaning, you assume that they’re tongue wrestling as they ride different parts of your body. You start working on Xinyu’s pussy with your tongue from below, holding her down by her thighs to make sure she doesn’t wiggle around. A light nibble in the clit makes Xinyu jolt but she doesn’t stand a chance against your strong arms that are gripping her firmly.

This threesome of yours has been going on for God-knows-how-long when both girls announce that they’re coming. You feel Nakyoung lift off your cock at the same time as Xinyu leaves your aggressive tongue. They cover their mouths and spray their juice all over your body; “holy fuck, I made them cum at the same time”, you think to yourself. They both fall limp next to you, hugging each other as they savor their high.

You get off the bed and head to the bathroom to wipe their combined juice and your sweat off your body. When you return, you see them kissing while playing with each other’s tits, seemingly busy in their own little world. “Excuse me, girls”, you interrupt them, “which one of you is going to make me cum?”. Xinyu breaks the kiss with a giggle, “I’d like to use my authority as vice president and delegate the secretary but there is a condition”. “That is?”, you ask, trying to figure out where she’s going with this. “Nakyoung-ie will take you in the ass”, Xinyu says, biting her bottom lip naughtily after. You are dumbfounded, “excuse me?”. “T-take my ass, oppa”, Nakyoung says, “take my anal cherry”. You are dumbfounded again, “are you sure? Have you even put anything in your ass before?”. “Y-yes, I-I’ve put a dildo in there some time ago”, Nakyoung shyly confesses.

Nakyoung rolls off Xinyu’s body and onto her back, “please, oppa”. Since she has decided to be naughty, you use this opportunity to match her; “that’s daddy to you, Kim Nakyoung”, you say to her as you get on the bed. You fold Nakyoung’s legs over her body and tell her to hold them. Since you don’t have lube, you decide to use Nakyoung’s pussy juice to coat your cock before entering her ass. You plunge quickly into her pussy for a couple of thrusts before pulling out, stroking your cock after to make sure that it’s coated entirely. “I’m not asking again, Nakyoung-ah”, you warn her. “Take me, daddy; I’m ready”, she says, nervousness clear as day to see.

You put your tip on her rear entrance, and Nakyoung gasps at the first contact. You see that her fingertips have turned white as she tries to hold her legs in place. You then start moving forward and stretch her rectum with the first few centimeters of your cock, forcing Nakyoung to furrow her eyebrows in pain. “Deeper, daddy; I-I can take it”, she says. You keep pushing into her ass until she begs you to stop, “s-stop, daddy; it-it hurts—fuck”. You look down and observe the situation; she has managed to take half of your length in her ass—that’s way more than Xinyu, considering that you’ve never had anal with her.

“Fuck, sweetie, you’re so tight”, you praise her. “Fuck me, please; make it hurt”, she says. You grant her wish and start moving your hips back and forth slowly, impaling her rear with your big cock. “It hurts, it hurts”, she chants, “fuck, it hurts so good”. Noticing that she’s reacting well to your length, you pick up the pace and fuck her harder. “Fuck, such a good girl”, you praise her, “keep gripping me like that”. Nakyoung bites her lip sexily, “Xi-Xinyu doesn’t let you in her ass, does she, daddy?”. Even with your cock in her ass, she still manages to tease—this naughty (and sexy) cat’s mischievousness knows no end. Xinyu seems to be ticked with Nakyoung’s words, and she starts rubbing Nakyoung’s clit rapidly to stimulate her further. “Oh, fuck, you two are going to make me cum again”, Nakyoung says with troubled breaths.

You maintain your pace and depth of your thrusts and notice that Nakyoung’s pain has subsided and been replaced by pleasure. You also notice that your cock isn’t just halfway in her ass, no, no, no; you’re fully lodged in her rear hole now. Xinyu hasn’t let up her work either, still rubbing herself and Nakyoung passionately. Xinyu has a different idea, however, as she dives into Nakyoung’s pussy and starts licking her clit from the side. Nakyoung tries to scream, but she manages to stifle her voice before it leaves her mouth. “Daddy, mommy—fuck, you’re going to make your baby cum”, she says. You’re astounded by how naughty she is in bed, and it fuels the fire of lust in your heart—she even calls Xinyu “mommy”, what the fuck?

“Sweetie, I’m cumming in your ass”, you say to Nakyoung, whose eyes are almost entirely rolled to the back of her head. “Cum in my ass, daddy—fuck, fuck, fuck—please, cum in my ass”, she chants as she savors the sensation of first time anal. You lodge the entirety of your shaft in her ass and blow your load deep into her guts, letting out a very deep groan as you do. Xinyu leaves Nakyoung’s clit and grabs her phone, “pull out, oppa; I’ll get it on camera”. You slowly retreat from the intense tightness of Nakyoung’s ass as Xinyu records from the side while making sure that no one’s face is caught on video. Nakyoung’s asshole struggles to return to its original shape, and Xinyu aims her camera straight at it; “oh my God, look at that gape!”, Xinyu comments with a gasp. You see through Xinyu’s phone and pay attention to how your cum drips out of her anus, “fuck, that’s crazy”.

Xinyu ends the recording after a few seconds and mutes the audio before throwing her phone away. “Take my ass next, daddy”, Xinyu begs. “I’m sorry, love, but I’m spent; I’ve blown a load inside you earlier, remember?”, you try to reason with her. “Ah, you’re right—next time, I guess”, Xinyu says. You free Nakyoung’s legs from her hands and put them down on the bed, “you did so well, Nakyoung-ah. Thank you very much”. Nakyoung’s pussy squirts out another load of juice belatedly, surprising both you and Xinyu. “Fuck, oppa, that was so fucking hot”, Nakyoung says, her pants deep and heavy.

You look over your shoulder to see the time. “It’s 2 am, huh? We’re leaving at 7, aren’t we?”, you ask your girls—yes, your girls. “The-the bus—fuck, I’m tired—the bus will be here at 6:15, oppa”, Nakyoung says. You lie down in bed with Xinyu and Nakyoung on each side, “how was it, Nakyoung-ah? Did it hurt?”, Xinyu asks. “Fuck, my ass was literally on fire, Xinyu-yah—Jisung-oppa is so fucking big, you should be grateful”, Nakyoung answers, “if I were you, Xinyu-yah, I would ask him to fuck my ass at least once a week”.

Xinyu contemplates her choices for a moment before turning to you, “please fuck me in the ass regularly, oppa”. You nod in agreement, “sure, love, but I want your clear consent written on a letter”. Xinyu tells you that she’ll write it on the flip side of your letter and hand it to you next weekend. “Alright, let’s get some z’s before the sun rises, okay?”, you say to the girls, and they each say good night before shutting your eyes. You imagine that both the angel and the devil are scratching their heads in confusion, wondering how you ended up fucking two girls in one night—one of them in the ass—but truthfully, you are as clueless as they are.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut

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